Preparation, Preparation, PreparationThe Final CountdownEl Mercado Mira FloresLa SelvaChipaotaThe First Leg: Chasuta to YurimaguasPacaya Samiria ReserveThe way to Iquitosto LeticiaThe Slow Boat to ManausDifficult Questions
 | RainforestPartnership |  | 2009 Trans-Amazon Expedition |  | Pacaya Samiria Reserve |
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Nov 1 2009, 10:18 PM
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Lagunas, Peru
After spending a day buying food and portaging the boat to the entrance of the reserve we woke up the next morning, paid our entrance fees and headed out.
That big blue boat which is so perfect for the waves of the bigger water of the Marañon and Amazon handled like a yacht in the tight bends of the upper reserve. Everytime we took a turn the stern would swing into the opposite bank and i would get raked by branches and palm spines and vines. It was hot, the going was slow and by noon I had spines in my back, twigs in my hair, dirt and and ants everywhere else and a nasty temper. Tim wasn´t fairing much better up front and that day was one of the few times we went at it. He was telling me how to steer and I was telling him if he knew so well he should just do it himself and sit back here and get pelted with sticks while I sat up front and drank water. So I dug in and cranked a hard right turn snapped the paddle and Tim shot back with a ¨well I saw that one coming.¨ I started laughing then he started laughing and I thought to myself, ¨well, there´s Day One in the Reserve.¨
From then on, Genaro rode with Tim in the yacht and i paddled his canoe which had a gash six inches long in the side that was patched with mud and leaked all day. When I wasn´t paddling I was bailing water out of the boat. I asked how many years old a canoe could be before it was no good. He said five. I asked how many years old this canoe was. He said eight. We were a strange looking bunch; a big, blue barge, and an old, dilapidated canoe, but we were going down river
As the river widened we slipped into the rhythem of waking early, taking a long breakfast, and spending the day on the river, listenening to the rich din of shreaks and growls and sqwuaks of the rainforest, and listening to Genaro tell stories about catches long since had as a fisherman in the reserve. We saw monkeys and guacamayos in the trees and turtles on the banks and were followed for days by pink dolphins surfacing feet away from us, diving down and blowing bubbles under our boat.
Any reservations I had about Genaro evaporated as soon we got on the river. He was sixty five, had been guiding the Reserve for twenty two years and had fished it for another decade before that. He grew up in this rainforest, this is all he knew and he wore that knowledge in his leathery bare feet, work-hardened hands and sun-blackened arms. Sixteen days is a long time to spend with someone in a boat, and despite the language, generation and cultural barriers that stood between us we became close. He taught me the skills that seem almost innate to people in this region and he did it with a real enthusiasm because it meant something to him that we had a real desire to learn. When we stopped in ranger stations for the night we would cook dinner, drink coffee then go out fishing at night with a flashlight and machete, looking for sleeping fish near the banks.
There is a large turtle repopulation effort going on in the Reserve where they dig eggs up from the beaches, hatch them in artificial beaches and release them in the river. By chance at a station named Santa Elena we had the opportunity to help with the release of over five hundred baby Charapa and Taricaya turtles. At sunset we paddled downriver with the baby turtles in buckets and let them go by the handfuls, watching them dive down and disappear into the water. Wildlife mangement is different here than in the states. There are no quartered off sections of beaches. There are no rubber gloves. There are no people with poles chasing off pigeons. These turtles are just turned loose. I asked the ranger, ¨won´t a lot them be eaten?¨ as he tossed in another handful. Of course,¨ he said, ¨some of them will be eaten by fish that will be eaten by bigger fish, and this is the way, one dies so another can live.¨
The days passed as we floated through the reserve until we reached the mouth of the Rio Samiria. After sixteen days we were at the end and I was sad that we had to leave the Reserve. It wasn´t like other backcountry trip I´ve taken where you go in and kind of make do until you leave. We ate and bathed and washed clothes on the river. We woke up and fell asleep to the sound of the rainforest. We began to live there, and that was a way of life that was hard to leave.
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laid up so long
Written by lkincy 28 months ago
Hello. Why were you laid up for so long? Why did you not post a blog entry?
Re: laid up so long
Written by RainforestPartnership 28 months ago
We didn´t have internet access from Yurimaguas until Iquitos. The next leg we won´t be able to blog until Leticia, Colombia. That should take us 12 to 13 days. Thanks for checking up on us and being patient!