Third day in the Amazon–archipelago canoe trip
This was the last outing for our stay at Anavilhanas. It was kinda sad in a way, but also kinda satisfying: we had successfully enjoyed and endured everything the Amazon had thrown (like a girl) at us lilly-white, lilly-livered Americans. And now, all we had to do for a complete scorecard was take a trip around part of the archipelago in native canoes. Sounded easy.
Elmo was our guide again, so we had gotten right chummy with him. Col. Cayman was our co-pilot. As we were assembling on the dock, the Valecha family and guide were pulling in.
They had caught 8 fish, and the guide was keeping them to take home to
feed his family. The catch and release rule seemed to have a grey
area–smart and benevolent at the same time. While the Colonel was tying three small canoes to the big boat, Robo was able to pose with the stringer of piranhas, being as he was such pals with the Valechas by now.
I decided not to bring the soggy Canon on this outing, particularly if we were gonna end up in the drink (shudder!), so the only two pieces of photographic evidence come from Pettus.
I love his expression. It reeks of “what could have been.” The fish give him no pleasure at all. Only a sense of failure, seeing as none of us gringos caught anything when we went.
Also notice what Robo is wearing. Like he’s going to a gol-durned golf tournament. I, on the other hand, had on my favorite Art from the Heart t-shirt, food stained from years of enjoyment, soft cotton worn thin, stretched large like a dashiki and dotted randomly with peek-a-boo holes. A nice study in contrast.
We all got in the boat with Elmo and the Colonel and took off slowly down the river towing the three canoes. Before long, we entered a large slough with tons of overhanging trees interspersed with large open areas of water. We pulled up on the bank, and the Colonel began to untie and arrange the canoes. Meanwhile, Elmo was trying to figure out who would be in which canoes. “I need to equalize the weight,” he said. Okay, so that would mean Pettus and me in a boat and Jean with Robo. That way we would both be in a boat with partners possessing some sort of expertise, maybe. No. Jean and I were in one canoe and the Kennemers in the other. Elmo had his own.
That was a laugh, trying to get the ungainly Burfords in this little bitty canoe without tipping it over. And let me tell you, tipping it over was a very distinct possibility. Elmo instructed us to get in the boat while it was on the bank, which we did. He then pushed us until we had started moving on the water. He got Pettus and Kennemer in their boat and on the water in a flash, then hopped in his canoe and with a couple of strokes was in the middle of the river before we knew it. The Kennemers were right behind Elmo, gliding like natives. Meanwhile, Jean and I were rocking erratically back and forth trying to get our bodies at least stabilized. And the rim of the canoe was very close to the water. Jean made sure to point that out. Repeatedly.
Meanwhile, the rest of them had hauled ass into this big area, and Pettus (who did most of the rowing) was cutting these Olympic styled moves while Robo sat like Caesar in the back. Little wonder. Pettus is part Alabama Cherokee. That explains a lot.
Little by little, Jean and I got the rhythm of it, and began to catch up to them. Every now and then we’d have a little lateral movement that would rattle us, but it became less frequent.
Pettus took this of Jean and me with her baby Canon. It’s actually very cool, because it reminds me of the last scene in Anaconda, when J.Lo and Eric Stoltz finally get to see and film the elusive Shimmy-Shamma tribe that they were looking for in the first place, before Jon Voight hijacked the boat with his wild ideas about catching giant snakes.
Behold that big t-shirt! Looks like THAT Shimmy-Shamma needs to Shimmy a little bit more. Also notice the miniscule amount of wood between us and the piranhas below. Egads! A small failure and there’d be some genuine gringo thrashing that would lure those little bastards from near and far. Jean didn’t bring the MawMaw purse, thank God. That would have put the whole thing over the edge, though she probably has some sort of piranha-related remedy or product in there.
Soon enough, we were pretty proficient in the thing, with Jean and I tossing back nautical insults to each other that put the zing into the whole event. The sound of all of us laughing as unobnoxiously as possible echoed in the small areas. It was really fun rowing around all that stuff, but always plenty creepy when we’d go under trees, which we did frequently.
Our canoes were just like the one our friend, Jim Klopman, world traveler and bon vivant, had brought back from the Amazon years ago. He has a delightful tale of getting that thing on airplanes and through customs. Apparently the lady was cool, and didn’t see any harm in him having it, so she devised some great way of describing the item on the form, and it went through. I first saw it in his backyard at a party one night, and noticed it was filled with water. Mosquito breeder, I thought, and dumped it out. It was then that I found out from Jim that he keeps water in it to prevent the wood from drying out. Oh.
As we cruised around these beautiful sloughs, Elmo would point out various wildlife to us. We saw toucans fly overhead, “always from higher trees to lower landing,” he said. There was the nest of the weaver bird, which, when pronounced by Elmo, sounded just like Jon Voight saying it: “wee-fvuhr buhrd.” It was great! The whole bringing to life of one of the world’s great films WITHOUT the actual anaconda!
Robo was the first to overflow with satisfaction from the trip, and seemed rather chagrined as Elmo led us deeper and deeper down this watery path. The late afternoon sky was beautiful, and of course overcast, so there were some patches of sprinkles in addition to downright ominous canoeing for a while. I thought we were gonna go back and meet the Colonel where we let off, but by then I was so turned around I had no idea where we were. But it was true. He was there waiting for us as we slammed into the bank with the dainty boats and then erupted into raucous laughter as he pulled us up. No stepping in the water for us! “Where style and nature meet.” Indeed!
Elmo was wonderfully tolerant of us, and the ride back to the lodge was very nice and relaxing. We hadn’t capsized or anything! And it was time for cocktails in the lobby followed by a great dinner.
Throughout the trip, Jean had been trying to figure out a way for us to see the meeting of the waters: the junction of the Rio Negro and the Rio Solimões. It looked like truly an amazing sight from the pictures she had showed me. The Rio Solimões comes from the Andes Mountains, making it cooler than the Rio Negro. The color is of light chocolate milk, and the water is not acidic like the Negro. The settlements along the Rio Solimões are subjected to the infernal mosquitoes for which the Amazon is legendary. But the rewards are greater: there is far more bird and animal life and more spectacular flora merely because of the increase in bugs and lack of acidity.
I don’t know which would be better. I hate mosqitoes, I know that.
When the Rio Solimões meets the Rio Negro in Manaus, the two waters don’t mix, due to the heavy density of the Negro and at least a 10 degree difference in water temperature. They travel side by side for about 10 miles, finally exhausted with fighting each other as they mix to become the Amazon River.
What a spectacular show! And while we were so close, Jean wanted to see it. Bad. And nothing can stop MawMaw when she’s on a planning jag. She had asked the owners at first how it could be accomplished, and they provided her with information for a seaplane trip that would be totally cost-prohibitive.
During cocktails, she talked with Elmo and Cassio about how we could accomplish the meeting of the waters before we had to leave Manaus. Cassio had told us that the docks were close to the airport, and that it was possible for us to do it. He would take us. Elmo got in there with news of a driver that could take us three hours earlier than our shuttle was supposed to leave, and it looked like we were all set.
We were experiencing the traditional warmth that comes from a couple of brisk strolls down to the cabin for liquor. And dinner looked fantastic, though I can only remember the broccoli and the toasted manioc flour. Our table (us, Yavor & Natacha and Rupi) spent a good bit of time with the Valechas after this particular dinner. Robo got everybody’s name and address, and Yavor gave me a Jailhouse Chili card. Cozy and international. Rupi made sure we all drank his wine.
So the plan was set for our trip to the waters: our van was going to leave at 5 a.m. to take the four of us to Manaus. Being as the van scheduled for that’s day’s departure wasn’t until 8:00, and our flight was at 11:50, we couldn’t have gone on that shuttle anyway, so Jean figured that our van ride wouldn’t cost us anything. The package price for the lodge vacation included transportation to and from the airport in Manaus. All was in order. Elmo assured us. Cassio was going to meet us outside the Opera House and take us to the waters. A price of some sort was agreed upon, and it turns out the excursion was going to be very reasonable. We thought.
Back to the Monkey room to begin the hated packing process, once again having to deal with wet clothes of all kinds. The place looked like a locker room with stuff draped all over everything, and with the 110% humidity, it wasn’t gonna dry any time soon.
We got our special staff gratuities together and divvied them up in labeled sacks. Jean and I had also decided to give two of our pairs of Havaianas from Rio to Sebastian and Captain Piranha. They had been most important in our experience, barring the guides, but I thought the flip flops would be a more personal gift that really showed our extra appreciation (along with the money, of course). One of the twins at the front desk was glad to take them for us.
I was through packing before Jean (imagine that), and flopped down on the bed to watch her finish. I was conscious of the rain outside, but was so used to it by that time that it was nothing but soothing.