The
first step, as we soon witnessed, was a thirty minute "bailing"
of our almost completely submerged boat. Maybe it recently rained
a lot, I thought. Then I noted that the other boats didn't seem
to full of water. This was not a good sign.Wednesday, October 7, 1998
I arrived at the Amazonia Adventures office in downtown Rurrenabaque as scheduled, 7:30 am. The owner, a nice English-speaking middle-aged guy said to the few of us that were actually on time: "Go and get some breakfast. Our departure is scheduled for 8:30." When quizzed as to why he told us 7:30, he said that if he says 7:30, most people will show up by the scheduled departure time... Western thought process, eh? I was impressed. I've used that technique several times myself, especially when meeting up with Aussies...
Breakfast was delightful, and I took the opportunity to meet some of the people on the tour -- Ted and Greg from rural California and clearly going for a Grizzly Adams look with facial hair completely out of control, Sarah and Josie from Sydney, and Carina from Holland who seemed ever so slightly "off"... The others were late of course.
Before leaving town, there were the inevitable stops for gas, supplies, bathroom, etc. Seems that no one in the third world has ever heard of preparation in advance. The crowded van took about three hours on a very bad dirt road to reach the city of Santa Rosa, a port town to the swamps of the Amazon. Let the Adventure begin!
Our guide, introduced as Ancir, readied the gear. Our group of 11 (I was promised a "maximum group size of 10," mind you) was comprised of Greg and Ted (California), Sarah and Josie (Aussies), Carina (off Dutch girl), Eric and Ingrid (France), Elly (a delightful Dutch girl), and another Australian couple Mick and Sarah, our guide Ancir and our cook, Manuel. Our group had a dazzling array of gear.
The
first step, as we soon witnessed, was a thirty minute "bailing"
of our almost completely submerged boat. Maybe it recently rained
a lot, I thought. Then I noted that the other boats didn't seem
to full of water. This was not a good sign.
After
the boat was bailed and all the gear was loaded, the gang boarded
the boat. As I expected, we were riding pretty damn low and there
was a real chance that we'd capsize -- in pirranha and crocodile
infested water. But, a roar (OK, maybe not a roar) of the 25 horsepower
motor, and we were off.
The 3.5 hour trip down the river was very scenic. Around every corner, we came upon snowy white egrets. At the first sight of the boat, they'd fly downriver a few hundred meters or so, gliding carefully just above the surface of the water. I really believe that we chased the same egrets for the entire time. We passed crocodiles sunning on the murky banks. Howler monkeys, both red and yellow subspecies, played in the trees. The largest rodent in the world called a capygara, a gigantic guinea pig looking animal the size of a very large dog, ate grass at the waters edge. Caymans and alligators gave the crocodiles company. Fish Eagles perched in the trees and eyed us suspiciously as we glided past.
The entire time, of course, the cook bailed the boat. There was a very large rapidly spewing leak in the front of the boat. If he had stopped bailing for more than a minute at a time, we'd have definitely capsized. I gave him a little relief, and a few of the other guys and girls on the boat did as well, but it was definitely a losing battle.
We arrived at the campsite at a little past 5. As soon as the boat stopped moving, we were attacked and literally infested with mosquitoes the size of model airplanes. Never in my life have I seen so many mossies. I wore long sleeves but I could feel them stinging me through the material. Everyone hurriedly put up their mosquito nets and escaped to relative safety. Elly and I built a fire in an attempt to ward off the 747s with smoke. That didn't work so well.
Our cook, doing a mosquito-avoiding-lambada, prepared dinner. Miraculously, just after sunset the mossies disappeared for a few hours and we all settled in for food and conversation. Then, it was off for a night boat ride -- in search of big crocs. By shining a bright flashlight across the surface of the water, it's easy to locate the big boys by the light reflecting off their eyes. An hour or so on the river, and it was back to mosquito land -- a quick dash to the nets and straight to sleep.
Thursday, October 8, 1998
I
awoke to the insistent buzzing of an alarm clock at around 6:30.
Only complication was that no one brought an alarm clock with
them. The mosquitos, now forming a swarm so thick that they could
blot out the light from the rising sun, made the annoying buzzing
sound. I was not about to exit the net for breakfast.
And neither, it seems, was Carina -- the slightly off Dutch woman. "Oh Australian girl," she bellowed, "bring me tea." "French man," she wasn't wise enough to remember names but was wise enough to remember nationalities, "please get the guide to bring me tea." She went on and on. I exited the tent with full anti-mosquito apparel on and had breakfast with the rest of the gang. She remained tented. "Bring me tea, damn it!" she screamed. I finally got upset and said, "No one is going to bring you tea so you best just shut the hell up. Anyone that brings you tea will have to beat me up first." She responded with some anti-american sentiments not suitable for print. The group cheered me.
Eventually, we set out for our morning boat ride. More wildlife, of course. Eventually, we ended up at a grassy plain and disembarked. "We'll go find an anaconda now" the guide said. Anaconda? Yes, the world's largest snake. It seems that it frequents these grasslands. So, off with the shoes, on with the extra repellent, and for the next two hours we slogged through waist deep, cow-patty floating, putrid water. And we paid money to do this, of course. Worse, there were no anacondas. Seems there was too much water.
We made our way back to camp by boat, but only after stopping to swim. In crocodile and alligator habitat where pirannha and anacondas are very frequently seen. Smart? No, but it was damned hot and I desperately needed to get away from the damned mosquitos if only for a few minutes. A few of us swam -- me, the guide, Elly, and French Eric. Everyone else stayed in the boat and swatted mosquitos.
Back at the camp, we took a vote. After carefully reviewing the facts and counting the huge welts on our bodies, we decided to call it quits and head back a day early. It was a tough decision to make, but somehow I managed to convince even the steadfast that it was for the best. We headed back.
Along the way, we were delighted to catch a glimpse of the outstanding pink river dolphins frollicking in the murky water. I didn't even know there were fresh water dolphins! But, we couldn't really stop to get a better look without getting pounded by kamikaze mossies. After a long ride, we made it back to the port at around 5. But, our van wasn't scheduled to pick us up until the next day. Ah, only a 10 mile walk to Santa Rosa.
Eventually, Ancir hitched a ride to town and got the van and the rest of the guests. We set up camp at Ancir's house. And we bought beer. Lots of beer. After the horrors of the pampas, Ancir's house provided relative comfort and a semi-mossy free environment. We drank the beer and then headed to the disco for some karaoke, bad disco music, and to watch the now lip locked Ancir and Elly make out on the dance floor... It was quite a show, I must say!
Friday, October 9, 1998
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. The mossy bites from the past two days swelled and pussed up. My legs looked like a picture from a lunar landing mission. I actually had less than most of the people on the trip.
After a quick breakfast, a sleepy-eyed Ancir suggested we go down to the local lake for a swim. So, we headed off for the 2 kilometer hike. It took over an hour, and several of the group turned back after it was clear that the 2 kilometers was actually more like 5. I persevered somehow and managed to reach an outstanding lake where it was quite easy to disrobe and take a swim.
Back to Ancir's house, we packed up and headed back to Rurrenabaque. After a much needed shower and dinner, I fell instantly asleep in a room shared with Elly. The next day, I was headed for a six day adventure in the Amazon Jungle!