Amazon

Squirrel monkeys
Photo: ©Simone van den Berg

An unforgettable adventure on the legendary river

Story by Tom Crosby

Tom Mulak stood among a dozen people on the flat-bottomed metal boat bobbing gently in the brown waters of the Amazon River and dropped his beef-baited fish hook over the side to see if the piranhas were biting.

With a shout, he jerked his line from the water as an orange piranha, razor-sharp teeth gleaming, twisted futilely on the hook.

"I was in a state of shock because it happened so fast," said Mulak, a 59-year-old pharmaceutical editor from New York City who had never fished before. Not many people can boast that their first fishing trip was on the Ucayali tributary in Peru, one of 1,100 tributaries that feed the Amazon River.

On this unique 10-day trip along 412 of South America's 14,000 miles of Amazon waterways, fishing for piranhas was only one of many memorable experiences for Mulak and the other members of our group. We paddled dugout canoes, hiked through dense jungle foliage and visited native villages. We watched as our guide plucked a small, alligator-like caiman from its hiding place in the water lilies after sunset. At night, the spotlight on the prow of our riverboat illuminated the riverbanks and attracted tens of thousands of harmless, gnat-sized water spiders. A snow blizzard of bugs swarmed around us as bats swooped overhead, gorging themselves on the flying delicacies.

Nothing in North America prepares you for the Amazon.

The river basin covers nearly 2.3 million square miles of rainforest, fed by the tributaries that push 500 million cubic feet of water eastward daily from the headwaters in the Andes Mountains to the Atlantic Ocean—enough fresh water in one day's flow to satisfy New York City's water needs for nine years.

Eleven of the 1,100 tributaries are larger than the Mississippi. They flow through Peru, Ecuador, Bolivia and Colombia to reach the ocean on Brazil's shoreline.

Scientists have spent lifetimes cataloguing the Amazon's species and acknowledge there are probably thousands still undiscovered. There are reptiles and amphibians, mammals, insects and the people who live among it all—including the Peruvian river people, Riberenos. They exist simply, fishing and hunting the same way their ancestors did, living in harmony with a river that can erode or deposit 150 yards of shoreline in a single season. There are no roads; the river is their transportation everywhere.

Our journey began with an evening flight into Peru's capital, Lima, home to more than a third of Peru's 22 million people. Lima's cool, dry climate is the opposite of the rainforest, which is humid year-round with temperatures in the 80s during the day and in the 70s at night.

The next morning we flew into Iquitos in northern Peru to board the Amatista, a 12-cabin riverboat which would be our home for the Amazon journey. The rugged 148-foot vessel brought air-conditioned comfort into the heart of the rainforest, with meals prepared by a chef, cabins with showers, laundry service and even a bar. Every day we climbed into one of two flat-bottomed metal boats to travel along the riverbanks and view wildlife.

Our guide was George Davila Flores, who grew up in a village of 20 families, 70 miles north of Iquitos. Flores has been a guide for 14 years and now holds a doctorate in ecology. He understands that visitors influence the native lifestyle but he also relishes the idea of "making new ambassadors for the Amazon and our culture."

"I love sharing what we know and helping educate our people about the outside world," he said. "They need to know what is out there, while still maintaining their ability to survive in the rainforest."

He regaled us daily with fascinating stories while identifying hundreds of birds, monkeys, sloths, bats, and river inhabitants like the freshwater pink and gray dolphins. We learned soldier termites contain a type of turpentine and are used by river people, crushed against their skin, to protect against bites from other insects. Another tidbit involved the sandbox tree, used to make the low-slung native dugout canoes that are paddled or motored up and down the river. The tree's sap contains cyanide, which keeps the canoe free of bugs and fungus. The natural protection in the wood lasts three or four years before the canoe becomes water-saturated and in need of replacement.

From the confluence of the Ucayali and Maranon Rivers (the fifth and 11th largest Amazon tributaries) we proceeded upstream on the 1,600-mile long Ucayali through primary forest. Here the trees are located on higher ground and are not always affected by the river's rise in the wet season from December to May. At Requena, a village of 65,000 people, we saw how the inhabitants survive by living in floating houses, farming during the dry season and fishing in the wet season. In other places the river level may rise 45 feet and riverbank trees display previous high-water marks on their trunks.

Another day we stopped at San Vincente, a small village where the children sang their national anthem for us. Flores gave the teacher school supplies we had been asked to bring along for such visits.

Afterward, the children took some of us for a short trip in their dugout canoes. Villagers showed us how they crush sugar cane for sweet juice, weave palms for rooftops, color palm fronds and weave baskets. Visits to villages such as San Vincente are not scheduled, so that the villagers don't come to rely solely on tourism to survive.

"They were so enthusiastic, showing us their homes and culture," said Mulak. "It was an exhilarating experience."

At the Pacaya-Samiria National Reserve, a pristine jungle preserve, a ranger wielding a machete guided us on a two-hour walk through thick jungle. We saw mulberry trees so high you couldn't see the tops, thick underbrush and palm trees with nuts lying on the ground below, full of maggots that the natives find nutritious. We listened to howler monkeys in the distance and viewed a tangarana tree, called the "punishment tree" by the river people.

Tangarana trees are home to an ant species that defends the tree from fungus and other insects—a symbiotic relationship. In times past, captured enemies were tied to a tangarana tree and its trunk was struck with a machete, causing the defending ants to swarm.

Our other animal sightings were as varied as the Amazon itself. On this trip the list included five primate species, 93 bird species, four bat species, otter, agouti, iguana, water snakes and two species of river dolphins—both pink and grey. Other groups have seen anaconda, jaguar, tapir, monkey-eating parrot, manatee, giant anteater, giant armadillo and vampire bats.

And the piranha fishing? Nearly everyone in our group caught one. The bony but sweet-tasting fish were served with supper later that evening.

In this group of eco-adventurers, I shared the Amazon riverboat experience with travelers from age 22 to 89, from a multitude of professions and backgrounds. Emily Morris, from Eatonton, Georgia said it best: "When I told my friends I was going to visit the Amazon, they asked me why. I can't wait to get home and tell them."

Iquitos, Peru

The Peruvian Amazon contains approximately 70% of Earth's known species and is one of the largest areas of the Amazon rainforest that remains in its natural state.

Iquitos (pop. 370,000) is Peru's main river port and the starting point for numerous river and rainforest tours. The city is surrounded by jungle and can be reached only by boat or plane, usually from Lima—there are no roads outside the city limits. Official languages are Spanish and Quechua.

Climate varies little year-round, with daytime temperatures in the 80s and heavy rain, but November through April are the wettest months. For more information on visiting Peru, see your travel agent.

Tom Crosby is VP of Communications at AAA Carolinas.