A Day on the River

Leopoldo or “Polo” was our guide’s name. He couldn’t say any of the Fuchs’ names, so he would simply call “Rebeca” and direct me to tell the niño, the señor, o the señora whatever he wanted to communicate. He hired a friend who had a boat, then went to buy bread which we’d need for the fish, he said. Except we found it funny that he and his friend ate all but one piece of the bread.

We weren’t actually on the Amazon in Puerto Nariño; rather we were on the Loretayaco, a tributary. The Amazon is nearly a mile from bank to bank in places and even on the Loretayaco, it seemed the water would never end. Polo told us that the current rainy season would bring the river to its highest in May and pointed out the watermarks that explained why houses near the river were built on stilts. He also told us, to our surprise, that when the dry season (lasting through August) came, the river would go so far down that it would only consist of a few 10 foot wide streams running in the great bed.

Entering our adventure "under the jungle"

Walking trees

Hanging out in the walking trees

The first step of our tour was sailing “under” the jungle, basically a swamp tour. We were warned we might see caiman, but we didn’t. We did see more plants than we could ever categorize, and we learned about the “walking trees.” These trees grow branches outward that have strings hanging off. The strings reach down and touch, becoming roots in the ground from which a new trunk forms. The original trunk then dies even as the new one is repeating the branching and rooting process. In this way, one can see where the tree has “walked” over a period of a few years. One of these walking trees was known as the “biggest tree in the jungle.” While I love climbing trees, and the walking trees were perfect to play on, my fun was inhibited by the fact that when I looked down I did not see ground, but water. I never thought I’d be so glad to get back in a boat.

We traveled to a lake (which I could not distinguish from the river) to look for the dolphins, grey and pink. It was overcast and showering when we arrived, perhaps the reason that our spottings were sparse, but they were real and we did see them. They aren't just pale pink either... more the color of a fair skinned little girl with a bad sunburn. Anyway, while dolphin-watching, it began to rain. Hard. At first Polo and his boat driving friend were going to drive us to the banks to get out of the rain, but when we explained our fascination with rain, they agreed to just put the sides down on the “lancha” (motor boat) and sit tight. This was a stretching experience for me.  Every time someone rocked the boat (gives a whole new meaning to the phrase!), I’d flinch a tiny bit, especially when it dawned on me why there was a bucket... to bail the rain water out. Tyrel found my paranoia hilarious and did his best to get a reaction. My only comfort? “You can’t drown me, because you won’t survive without a translator!”

Waiting out a rain storm. Unfortunately, the pink dolphins don't show up in the overcast weather.

Long story short, we did what  few have done - sat through a rain storm on the Amazon. And then proceeded to the next of our tour events: piranha fishing. Polo tore up the bread, tied a piece and a hook on the sticks with string, threw the string in the water and caught a sardine (live ones look like... fish!). He cut the sardine into pieces, tied a piece to a line, threw the line in the water, shook it, pulled it out and dropped a black piranha, about 4 inches long, into the boat. He then handed the rod to Tyrel. We all got our chances, and I can now say I’ve been fishing AND CATCHING and it was much more fun than just fishing. My first few fish I pulled out with a bit too much enthusiasm, giving new meaning to “catch and release fishing” as I dropped them on the other side of the boat, but I finally pulled a couple in. Tyrel endeared himself to the boat driver as a “champion” by catching 10 or more, including all 4 varieties: black, white, red, and fox. Our guide cheerfully complied with our request to cut the “shark teeth” out of one, although he wanted to take it to the village and have it cooked for us, an idea we were NOT thrilled over. 

My first time to catch while fishing...

Shark teeth. Piranhas will not attack UNLESS they smell blood.
Judging from how fast they bit our bait, I don't think I'd risk a swim.

Finally, fishing over, we began the journey back to port. Our guide had told us he would sing and tell stories as part of our entertainment and this he proceeded to do, pulling a harmonica out of his pocket as an introduction and bridge for his songs. We were pleasantly surprised to find that both his singing ability and the songs he’d written about his beloved home were actually quite good. His last feat was to try to talk us into a “night tour.” I was, again, suspicious. Too much time in Bogota, where nights are not particularly safe and people not particularly honest. We asked if we could meet him after supper...By this time we were all hungry and salt-starved. Though the day hadn’t been as hot (we were wet from rain, not sweat), we still found that we’d drunk and not peeed, a sure sign that something was inbalanced. We asked at the touristy hostel and they looked at us oddly. Of course a night tour was safe! Who was doing it? Oh yes, it would be fine.

Polo entertaining us on our trip back.
See this video with sound on facebook
 https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10203328548552343

At this point, we didn’t care about anything except food, so we started trying to find the place Polo had told us about, where a meal was only $4000 pesos. Polo had taken Tyrel to buy machetes, and the man at that store informed us that nothing healthy was to be found at that price. We decided to up our budget, especially when we realized how difficult it was to come by a meal with no fish in a river town. After eating, we realized all we had energy for was sleep, or so we thought, so Polo took us back to our “hostel.”