DAY 50. IT IS TIME FOR A SWIM

I had barely opened my eyes when I rushed to check the net with the burning desire to catch at least some small fish, so that all yesterday’s effort was not in vain. And yes, I did! I caught half a catfish that looked like a pike. Why do I say ‘half’? My old mates got to it first, those notorious corpse-eaters. I think the locals called them ‘candiru’. Several fishermen had assured me that these fish avoided nets, but that was not true at all. Anyway, if I round it up, I got one fish!

Due to the abundance of snags, I tore part of the net. I am even glad that this way of fishing takes so much effort and I do not feel like a dirty poacher. I still reject this way of fishing with my gut feeling.

I had time to think about the events of the last few days. I decided that things could not go on like this. I had been carefully cultivating this fear in me for a month, to the point where I am afraid of every boat. To the point where I am thinking about finding a place to spend the night safely. And here is the truth: even if I put all my energy into finding a new village every day, it does not guarantee me any safety, it just increases my stress level. It is up to the river to decide where I am going to spend the night – in a calm pool, on a rapid, on an island or on the bank – or at the bottom. Anxiety will not help; it will only eat away at my much-needed strength. I decided to continue the journey at the same pace with only one innovation – every evening I will cover the boat with a tent and, if necessary, mask it with branches. No more camping in plain sight, as was the case in Peru. How much things have changed in the last few weeks!

It took me almost an hour to untangle the main part of the net. Doing it in a cramped boat was unbearable. I tried to fish on the current (I have seen locals doing that along the banks) and I almost caught a dolphin. The clever creature only touched the net and did not come any closer. Dolphins, it must be said, became astonishingly aplenty. I guess the desertedness of this area plays its role. In the channel, where I am now, sometimes I see up to four dolphins that synchronously jump out of the water just ten metres from my boat.

It has been six hours into the journey today, and I still have not come across a single boat or person. It seems like the river has died out. I guess it is Saturday, and all big boats run on weekdays. I am alone with the nature now. Tete-a-tete with her majesty the Amazon.

I ate all the salted crocodile pieces. They taste like chicken and smell like fish. That is an interesting combination.

It is pleasantly hot outside, and after the rainy days, it makes me very happy. I washed myself and did my laundry properly. My shirt is not so white anymore, though.

Today is my 50th day on the river. I decided to celebrate the anniversary and go for a swim! In no other place than right in the central riverbed, diving from the bow of the canoe. Strangely enough, this can be much safer than near the bank because the banks are where snails that carry schistosoma live, not to mention the more obvious dangers. In Iquitos, for example, people showed me their piranha bite marks which they got while swimming. They looked as if two to three centimetres of skin had simply been ripped out of their legs. No, piranhas do not really attack people, but they can mistake people for their prey initially, and these mistakes are very unpleasant.

The moment has come. I stood on the bow of the boat. I thought about everything I knew about the river. Sometimes my memory works at 146% of its capacity. For example, I remembered that there was a case when a ship with passengers sank, people ended up in the water, and the noise attracted some large catfish which pulled some of those in distress underwater, which was witnessed by those who managed to escape their death in the abyss. That is not good news for me, is it? Especially right at this moment.

I gathered my thoughts and hesitated for about five minutes. I threw the rope overboard in case something suddenly went wrong. I looked around, there were no crocodiles in sight. That is too bad, as I am actively looking for them!

3… 2… 1… 1! Jump.

I cannot see anything. I cannot see anything. I emerge to the surface and see that the boat was swept five metres to the side. I am swimming towards it at such speed as if all the piranhas and crocodiles of the river are already chasing after me. Another blink of the eye, and I am back on the boat. Whew. I think that is enough for the first time, ‘achievement unlocked’.

After a few more quiet hours on the water, I heard the first boat motor near a small village hidden in the jungle, but the boat was not travelling far – just to the opposite bank. Apparently, they were fishing.

It is time to camp for the night. There are kilometres of flooded forests all around. Among them I find a narrow passage that leads straight into the jungle, winding between tree trunks. The forest is all around, it seems that the bottom is very close, but my three-metre-long paddle does not allow me to fathom the depth. The forest around and the depth underneath mesmerize me.

I go on and on until suddenly I hear a loud splash in the middle of the forest. That’s interesting, isn’t it? It sounded as if a 100kg arapaima had jumped out of the water and landed sideways! I try to follow the noise, but the boat is too big. It does not fit in the space between the trees. There might finally be some crocodiles here!

Unfortunately, the convenient path ended at someone’s shelter in the thick of the forest, and I hurried away. I found a backwater, cast my net, and squeezed deeper into the forest, cutting through the greenery. I would be safe here.

3 June, ~73 (2125) km covered.