DAY 57. CHANGES IN MY DIET

The night traffic on the river was so bad that it drove my boat deep into the woods, despite the rope that should have held it in place. I did not get much sleep and I feel wrecked. The waves had also tangled the fishing net. Only one fish got caught in it – that pike-like fish. The long dorsal spiky fin must have let it down. It would be all right, but I did not get the whole fish, as my candiru friends got to it first and almost dismembered it. I am not upset though, as I know that its remains will be used as bait, and I can return the favour to the little greedy thieves.

There is fog on the river today. It is only for the second time during the whole trip. Is it getting colder?

A couple of hours later, the morning presented me with another candiru. It was smaller than the last one, but its head and tail would make great bait! The whole boat is covered in slime and blood again, though… Phew.

On the river I met a man called Guinei. He approached me in his motorised canoe out of curiosity. I asked him about the fish. Indeed, the locals do not eat fresh candiru because of all the worms, but if the fish is salted, there should be no problem. That works for me.

Guinei was on the way from his banana farm to his house, so he gave me some bananas, which came in handy, as I almost ran out of mine. More importantly, he assured me that the nearest stretch of the river was safe, that the pirates had not been here for a long time, so I did not have to worry about them. I surely hope so.

By lunchtime my boat looked like a fishing schooner – three tackles were equipped on its sides for fishing from the depth on the move. I set them up for the depth of 3-4 metres, 7 metres and about 15-20 metres. The last one was equipped with a huge hook, weight and steel leash. There is no telling what kind of a monster could be caught at this depth! A candiru fish has several rows of teeth and a vigorous character, so my tackle will be more reliable this way. I sat in the front part of the canoe and started cleaning and unravelling my fishing net. In my opinion, this is the most unpleasant of daily chores.

The catch of the day exceeded all expectations. I caught one small candiru and three large ones! Now I have a pan full of meat, even if I do not count the previously caught piranhas and paku.

I have decided to stop fishing for now. I am not starving; I was just trying to diversify my diet. Eating farinha for 57 days is no fun – and sometimes I had it four times a day.

Summing up my fishing experience, the 5-7 metre tackle has proven to be the best performer, but the 3-metre tackle has also helped to finish off those fish that have gone off the deeper hook. Fish heads of 5-7 centimetres in length work best as bait, while fish tails do attract fish, but it bites at the hook less often. A candiru swallows a fish head whole and therefore leaves itself no chance to escape.

There are few worms in the fish, but I will wait at least three days until the fish is properly salted to at least somehow protect myself, because many parasites are simply not visible. In any case, I do not plan to cook a fish sagudai (a Siberian dish cooked of freshly caught raw fish – a translator’s note), and after the trip I will take pills to get rid of all kinds of potential worms. I do not need any extra mouths to feed!

As soon as I pulled my fishing gear out of the water, the wind blew in. Very quickly, powerful waves came up from the bank. A downpour was approaching. I sealed all my belongings and clothes from the water and took off the tent so that I could paddle more efficiently.

I fought the waves until I came across two huge logs floating crosswise. They were so big that they dampened the waves. I positioned my boat between them and had to hold the rope in my hands in case something went wrong.

If I keep going at 60 kilometres a day, I will get to Manaus on day 69. I think that would be a very symbolic number; it kind of describes what the Amazon River has been doing to me all these days. Although, of course, it has been pretty tough.

Indeed, I have been thinking about my return after the journey quite a lot. I miss the contrast. As amazing as this river is, during the two months of monotonous routine it has become my home. It is already harder for it to surprise me, and it is harder for me to discover new things. I think I have even been through most of the probable difficulties. The fear remains, but I will politely pack it and keep it. It keeps me alive on the river and protects me from foolish decisions.

I decided to spend the night in the middle of a flooded field, not in the forest, as I usually do. I am going to try the net again. I want to see more species of fish and maybe find another trophy. Dreams, as they say, do not do much harm. Oh, this sunset is just so beautiful!

A huge frog croaking in the bush nearby keeps me company tonight. I wish I could understand what it says. Maybe that is how it sings.

10 June, ~65 (2479) km covered.