DAY 47. SOME COMPANY

It is a good thing that I usually get up early, at 5:20, just before dawn. As soon as I set off today, I saw a fast-moving boat travelling downstream along the opposite bank. Waking up to its waves would not have been pleasant at all! And it was just the beginning: 10-15 minutes later I encountered two more cargo ships that were travelling along my bank against the current, causing large waves on their sides. So, it is great that I am an early riser after all!

Having breakfast at my new table as I watch the rising sun is wonderful. While I was eating, I noticed someone’s large paw sticking out from under the kitchen dark box, where I keep farinha and where the remaining ant soldiers hold their last stronghold. Is Vaska back?! I decided against extending my hand of friendship for now: who knows what creature had settled there.

Today I intend to reach Tonantins, one of the last towns before the big wasteland (500 kilometres long), where one can find no more than one settlement per 150 kilometres of the river length. I think this is the most dangerous part of the river, but for me it is the most interesting part as well. Maybe I will reduce my daily travel distance from 60-70 to 40-50 kilometres – however, I should not tease the dragon and stay in this wilder territory too long. In the town I will need to buy more food and charge my phone and power bank. I am sure people there will help me.

It seems today is really a day of rest for me. The weather is beautiful – it is sunny, a gentle breeze blows away all gnats, and the current is strong and reliable. I do not need to do much paddling. Dolphins – both pink and blue – started to show up more often than usual. I noticed that they tend to gravitate to the harbours; it is probably because harbours are often situated at the confluence of the Amazon and a large tributary, so there is plenty of fish in such places. 

I am enjoying the day and resting while I can. A floating log gently taps on the boat, pulling me down the river at 8.9-9.3 km/hour. The waves quietly chime overboard, and I revel in reading, for now it is not long before I can charge my phone. My sore toe is much better, there is almost no pus left.

I have figured out the way to eat that strange fruit I have recently bought. It is the size of a peach, I use a knife to peel it, and inside there is a large stone with a thin orange layer of pulp. This pulp is oily, but one cannot chew it, one can only squeeze out the oil. I realised that the taste resembles an avocado, which means the fruit is best eaten with salt and bread. It is very tasty and probably nutritious.

Just some 7 kilometres before the port, a brisk headwind came up, bringing a downpour with it. It quickly turned into an intimidating storm and immediately pinned my boat to the bank as I had paddled in its direction in advance.

It is only 5 kilometres to the town, and it is only 13:22, but I cannot travel against the will of the elements. These metre-high waves will hit right into the side of my boat, and this is dangerous for my ‘Libertad’. The river is literally covered in white peaks of waves! It is an unbelievable sight.

Like everything else in this part of the world, the storm was powerful, but swift. When the waves subsided a little, I carefully waded along the bank, where I saw a curious sight. On a rather high bank there is a huge (by Amazonian standards) field, and there is a stilted house in the middle of it. When the wind drives a large wave, it almost reaches the floor of the house, rolls right across the field, bends grass and small bushes! After that it retreats noisily. It looks like a local country estate, there is even a beach here.

When I finally reached the settlement, the usual vital question came up: where I should dock. Everything would depend on it. Should I choose the petrol station? Should I tie my boat at the pier where the tourist lancha has set anchor? As I linger in the middle of the bay, my confusion is noticed by people in a house right near the water, and they call out to me. Well, here is the answer to my question.

It turned out that several houses on the water belong to one company that buys fruit and large fish from the locals, and then sells them in Manaus at twice the price. I met the whole family and all other employees right away. I was welcomed warmly, and they wondered how I had got here.

I got acquainted with the administrator – his name was Nogueira, and he was a man in his mid-forties who clearly knew a lot about fishing and told me a lot. I also met Philip, an inquisitive 18-year-old lad who already had a wife and two kids! Well, this happens but I am glad that I was not that fast. We chatted about fishing, about the trip, about the pirates who, as it turned out, were operating in the reaches of the next 150 kilometres – on the border of the inhabited and the wild parts of the river. I decided to pass it as quickly as possible, and then slowdown in the middle of nowhere. It will be safer that way. The people around me agreed.

When they learned about the issue with my solar panel, I was reassured that they had seen a similar power adapter in a local shop. Indeed, as soon as I got up to the village, I saw a lot of cars, including a police car, with a Starlink satellite dish on the roof (thanks you, Elon Musk). This miracle never ceases to amaze me.

After a couple of hours of wandering around, I finally found the charging adapter which I needed! Later in the evening, I would twist the wires back together and could hardly wait for the morning to check if it worked.

I was shown the fish the company buys from the locals. They are huge five-pound palometas, golden-coloured gamitans, which are said to be particularly expensive and tasty, and catfish of all kinds. Every specimen is huge! One arapaima, which is already lying in a corner without its shell, is called a paiche here. I talked about fishing in the evening with a dozen people from 20 to 60 years old. All the conversations boiled down to the fact that I already knew – big fish do not approach boats, and a fishing rod is only used rarely to catch some bait. Only fishing nets work! And they require careful assembly and casting. I do not like nets. But when 47 days of bad catch have been proving the idea that my fishing rod only catches tiny fish the size of my palm, I cannot help thinking about buying a fishing net. I ask where I could find a small one. The unanimous answer is: there is no such thing as a small fishing net.

In the evening the sky became cloudy, and the family opened a garage on the water for me, where there was one free place. This space was enough to host four boats like my ‘Libertad’, but the owner of the company was away together with his boat, so I could occupy the place. It was starting to rain outside again, so this kind offer was very timely.

Moreover, when I was about to fall sleep, one of the workers brought me something like a mattress (he was also the one who had been teaching me how to cast my tarafa net during the day). For six weeks, my back had rested on nothing softer than a thin layer of rubber foam. This dirty old mattress was pure bliss to me.

31 May, ~64 (2002) km covered.