DAY 40. THE NEW CHALLENGES

In the morning, I went out of the channel into the main riverbed. My body was aching after yesterday’s overexertion, so I decided to do some warm-up first, which is not a typical part of my daily routine.

Half-awake and groggy, I slowly stood in the middle of the boat and stretched –and suddenly a dolphin jumped out of the water right in front of the canoe! It was not a little blue dolphin, but a large three-metre pink one. I almost fell overboard at such a fright, but I managed to turn towards the bed, so I fell into it. It was like a dream come true. I guess that is it for today.

These dolphins are amazing creatures. The longer I am alone with the river, the closer I feel to them. Sometimes it seems to me that only animals can understand me in their harmonious lust for life. This feeling is heightened when I return home from another journey and my world has recently turned upside down, got filled with new tones and halftones, and back home everything is the same as it was before. I talk about freedom, aspirations, and dreams, and people keep telling me about stability and security. It is a pity.

I nibbled on one of the salted fish for breakfast and got to the secret stash of sweets that had been travelling in various corners of my gear for months. I feel like I do not consume enough sugar. My sealed jars and containers saved everything but it from the shipwreck. Now farinha will be even more boring. The locals had been expressing their surprise at the news that I can feed on it for weeks. Heh. The thing is, Peru has developed a unique food culture. I would even suggest that the average person here has a significantly better diet than in Europe, despite the rather meagre living conditions. As in Bolivia, any dish here is a mixture of three or more ingredients. It is not possible to have just potatoes with chicken, for example. The dish will also have some lettuce and some kind of beans added to it. I remember this now with particular appreciation when I look at my salted fish.

The Amazon is stormy today, but the wind is favourable. That is a good thing. I am being carried down the river faster than a log would be. I cannot help thinking about building a sail. It is a pity that the wind is too fickle here. I have always wanted to go sailing. Well, I will get round to it eventually.

Yesterday I pulled out some sand from under my toenail, which had been bothering me for a long time, but the density of events had been occupying my thoughts with more pressing matters. Today my toe hardly hurts at all, unlike the ear. The otitis is still painful, but this pain is slowly receding, too.

There is hardly any gas left. With whatever is left, I boiled four bananas. They should be enough fuel for me to get to the village, where I can replenish my water and food supplies. It is only about 80 kilometres to the Brazilian border, so I think I will reach it tomorrow. The journey is more difficult without gas, because now I would only be able to cook on fire in dry weather, but it was a conscious decision on my part. I had bought just enough gas to reach Brazil, and then I am planning to adapt to the new challenges.

Speaking of challenges: it rains incessantly – again. This does not look like the dry season at all. If the water does not go down, fishing will be tough, but I still hope to catch something with my tarafa net. I keep practising the correct way to cast it.

I docked at the Peruvian village of Cacao, where I replenished my water and sugar supplies. I could not find a notebook for sale, but one of the local girls gave me one as a gift. Her overall appearance seemed remarkable to me. As we had a conversation, I learned that she was Colombian, like most of the inhabitants of the village. People here are not bothered much by national borders and the fact that the right bank of the river is Peruvian while the left bank is Colombian does not influence their life much. They are free from bureaucracy in the form of checkpoints – all thanks to the mighty river. I love this sort of stories.

The villagers were very helpful, as they always are. Before setting off I was warned to stick to the Colombian side of the river as the other side was ‘too calm’. I doubt they meant the speed of the current, as I am constantly told that pirates abound on the river. Some people even start praying for me. That is my life now.

It is raining again. Luckily, there is no wind. On a river this big, you can clearly feel the way the wind rises and falls. The sound changes long before a new wave arrives. Oh, the waves! Yesterday’s events are still fresh in my memory. What can I do to get rid of this fear? I have no clue.

On a happier note, I have my farinha sugar-coated again. No boiled bananas can compare to it. And I could buy some dried bread crackers in the village, so now I am having a nice lunch.

As soon as I had enough to eat, the wind picked up. As I realised what was next, I fastened the cover on the bow compartment with a rope and a couple of nails. I did not want anything to be washed away from the boat because of the waves. I already lost my cooking pot.

The rising wind was followed by rising waves, and it began to rain. I sat deeper in the hull and accepted the challenges thrown at me by Mother Nature. An idea occurred to me that I could use my raincoat like a kayak spray skirt.

It seemed like an eternity before the wind died down. I have no strength left at all. I spotted a small stream and turned into it. I was surprised to find a tall eucalyptus tree, to which I tied my boat securely. Now it is time to rest.

I am so tired. There is a colony of particularly aggressive ants running around the boat. Usually, they tend to lay their paths and take refuge in some corner, but these ones are different. They sting me painfully and insist that I must leave. And what do I do? I am sitting in my boat, soaking wet. There is even steam coming off my body and clothes. There will be no fishing today. I should sleep. I just need some sleep.

The jungle is teeming with life. Words cannot express the polyphony that can be heard by the river in the heart of the Amazon. There are dozens of birds, insects, and monkeys. I have no strength to move, but I can listen to this beautiful symphony of life until I fall asleep.

24 May, ~60 (1542) km covered.