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Magazine
TIME OUT
Afloat in the Amazon
USHA KRIS
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A cruise up the Amazon gives one a rare peek into a way of life and an environment that is sustained by the energy of the river.
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Photos: Usha Kris
Vignettes from the cruise: A surprise catch.
From Lima we came to Iquitos by a small plane, and then a two-hour bus drive brought us to the “harbour” of Iquitos. Large boats with traders ply on the water as roads do not connect to places far away. Iquitos is land locked. The Amazonis a major lifeline. A slight drizzle welcomed us into the La Amatista, the river cruise ship. There were 20 of us, in the care of Jungle Expeditions, the oldest operators navigating the river towards the headwaters. La Amatista was fashioned after its 19th century predecessor. Miguel, Rolland, and Yvonne made the trip interesting, exciting, comfortable and memorable.
We sailed out watching the logging that was denuding the largest rain forest in the world. One football field size of forest is cleared every minute! The depression of seeing this forest turn into logs for commercial gain lasted for a brief period, for, the energy of the mighty river flooded all other thoughts out of the mind. Within half an hour, we saw the river branch into two. One was the mainstream of the Amazon, going to Brazil, another thousand miles away, and the other going towards the headwaters in the general direction of the Andes. For, it is up in these snow-clad mountains that the Urubamba originates, tumbling hurriedly to meet the Maragnon and the Ucayali, three of the thousands of rivers that merge body and soul to create the most astounding and awe inspiring of rivers — the Mighty Amazon. We were to be on the ship for the next eight days, cut off from the rest of the world, akin to the lotus-eaters.
Staggering size
The Amazon (the Peruvians are soft on the Z, making it sound like “ts” sound) is the mightiest of all rivers. The statistics are mind blowing: It is 4,000 miles long, pouring a staggering eight trillion gallons of fresh water into the Atlantic every day. This volume, just to give you an idea, is 200 times the water requirements of the United States of America. The secret to this phenomenon seems to be that it pulls the waters off every other river from Peru, Columbia, Venezuela, Brazil, and Bolivia, claiming it as a part and parcel of itself. Perhaps a mile wide at the headwaters where we were, we sailed down river toward the Ucayali. Though the river originates in the Peruvian Andes at 18, 200 feet altitude, it descends in a swirling cascade of white water which is the Urubamba. Losing its altitude, as the Ucayali, the river settles down in a yogic calm to receive the Maragnon river, and later on, the other hundreds of rivers, till it is eight miles at the widest place in Brazil. Tumbling down from the Andes, it rolls down the 3,000-mile journey at an easy pace, descending a mere two to three inches every mile.
Settling into our cabin, we handed over our lives for the next eight days to the Captain and his crew. This was no lazy and luxurious trip like the Princess Cruise along the Alaskan coast. Up by five in the morning, we took the smaller boats exploring the shorelines. After breakfast, the group was ready for the next round of exploration. Spotting over a 140 species of birds was part of the game. If you think you are going to see “big”, just forget it. The king fisher, caracara, hummingbirds, of which there are over 120 species in the forest, are all very small and our naturalist Rolland wanted to show us every one of them! Yvonne, our other naturalist, kept us entertained with her ready wit and keen sense of fun. Miguel, in his own quiet way, kept us together, making sure that nothing was wanting throughout the trip, from start to finish at Lima.
Villagers in their dugouts.
The whoops of joy as one person after the other caught a fish on the boat in the Amazon, echoed through the silent waters. The sounds would have been enough to scare any fish away, I imagine, but no, apparently the Piranhas did not get scared that easily. A grand total of 65 fish was the count of the 20 of us who were fishing, but it was with no thanks to me, I can assure you. Tui Tui, our local hunter turned naturalist, deftly put the piece of meat on the improvised fishing tackle. A timely jerk, and lo and behold, a fish dangled helplessly. I on the other hand, had to be content to feed the fish, for that is exactly what happened. With the bait in place, I would carefully lower the rod in to the waters and feel the tug, pull up but there was no fish at the end of the line. I had always thought of the Piranha as a large fish, at least 12 to 15 inches in length. I was surprised to see that the biggest of them was only eight inches. The tales of these flesh eaters probably made them larger than life in our minds.
I revered all the dreary waters of our own rivers in India, and not to take a dip in the free flowing Amazon seemed sacrilege. Not imagining that it was a daring act, my first dip was to be near the boat while pink and grey dolphins checked me out at the lake Yanayaku. Later at a village, I dared to venture out a little further into the river, and found that I had set a trend where many of the others followed me into the river, while those on shore looked on anxiously. They were a clear 20 feet above us, at the village which was on a high bank. Dripping wet, I arrived on the scene. The show was on. The villagers had gathered their baskets, wooden objects, and of course beads made from seeds. The bright eyed school children gathered together to receive the school supplies and goodies that the visitors had brought for them. In the small rivulet that flowed by the village, a row of dugout canoes with one boat girl in each, waited for us. Getting into one, life jacket and all, I balanced carefully and picked an oar. Though for us it was a joy ride, it was the only mode of travel for the villagers.
Moments of eternity
It was pitch dark, the stars peeked through the canopy of trees. Yes, Adventure Expeditions had planned a nocturnal walk in the woods. Ed put his foot in a two foot hole. Margaret’s torch gave out, my camera battery went dead. Yvonne spotted a scorpion, Tui Tui, our best hunter, saw the spider. He was the one who had caught a caiman with his bare hands earlier. The baby tree frog was lying in wait for us, and we were surrounded by those silent sentinel trees. Dry leaves crunching under our foot was the only man-made sound. Rolland whispered, “now switch off the torches”. The silence and the dark of night enveloped us. I could feel the trees seemingly waiting with us, their presence felt. We were not alone, for sure, as the sounds of the forest increased in volume. Now we could distinguish the sounds of the different nocturnal creatures. And the stars twinkled merrily, playing hide and seek through the tree tops. Possibly the gaiters we wore, protecting us like gum boots, would have protected us from the snakes that roamed freely. Insect repellents kept insects at bay. There was chill in the air. Then the thoughts of all the people I loved, all those who would have enjoyed this adventure, that special feeling I may never feel anywhere else in the world mingled with the jungle sounds.
I had been to no place like this anytime in my life. The moments stay with me for eternity.
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