DAY 6. MY BED

As soon as I left the bank, a huge barge called ‘Pacifico’ (which ironically means ‘Quiet’ in Spanish) passed by. Its bow is very high, so it would easily pass over any logs or unlucky amateur canoeists.

I decided not to wait for the worst of times and cut that coconut open. With a machete it was a surprisingly easy thing to do, even though it was the first time I had ever done it. It was delicious! The sensation was enhanced by the fact that I had found it myself, opened it myself and, of course, ate it myself. Are there coconut palms along the river bank after all?

The bananas in the bunch were fully ripe on the sixth day. I decided to remove the stem and the bananas that had been damaged by insects. I arranged them in the cooking pot in order of ripeness.

I also found a new driftwood log to pull me forward. This way I can rest after a rough night.

Once again, a spider has got into my boat. It is small, but it is never a good idea to judge danger by its size, because usually it is just the opposite rule. Tree scorpions and frogs will attest to that. I will have to evict the unwelcome tenant.

My health condition demands some attention today, especially my hands. I have blisters from the oar, splinters and paint from the boat get stuck in my skin, and there are some thorns under my nails. Every day I check my fingers for pain or inflammation. If I see a wound, I disinfect it and clean the dirt out. For this purpose, I have a couple of bottles of alcohol in case of emergency. Unfortunately, because of the humid climate, wounds take a very long time to heal here. In my normal life, I heal quickly.

For the first time I came across streams with black water flowing into the river from some mangrove forests. Apparently, the uplands are near. Could the black soil with worms appear next? I am waiting for my fishing adventures to begin.

As I had put the canoe’s bow in order, it was time to start constructing my bed of reeds. I decided that I had suffered enough and sawed reeds to fit the width of the canoe. The back of my machete is a saw. It turned out I did not have enough reeds, so I went ashore, wandered through the thickets, drowned in wet sand a couple times and found some good trunks. I washed the boat from the sand I brought on my boots and finally finished the bed place.

It is hard to overestimate such an acquisition. I had to place the bars wider, with large gaps between them both to provide ventilation for my belongings and because there was not enough construction material for that now, but I just need to turn around and get it. Now is a good time to think about the tent. I do not know how I am going to fix the raincoat on the frame as I do not have any nails except the few I thoughtfully packed in the harbour while building the canoe, but is that a problem? I have a machete. If I have a machete, there are no problems I cannot solve.

I have covered 240 kilometres. I can finally see the hills. The views here, of course, are incredible! Clouds drift right over the jungle tops, and sometimes strange sounds that resemble jaguars fighting can be heard from the jungle. Birds are chirping relentlessly. The banks are lined with all sorts of trees. Some of them have interesting fluffy rhizomes; apparently, they aim to soak up every drop of water the land or the river gives them. When the time comes, all that they have accumulated will become the property of that very river. More than once, I have seen huge trees crash into the water and begin their new journey in this terrible yet beautiful cycle of life. The Amazon is the ultimate predator of this jungle.

I have learnt a lesson from my mistakes last night, so I chose a safer place during daylight time. This time I should be protected from the waves by a large log, and the boat is almost midway on the ground, in the bed of a dried-up stream. I do not know what will happen if it starts to rain – whether this brook quenches its thirst and grows into a small river. Then I walked around to explore and look for something interesting. I could not go far – the place was too waterlogged. However, I found a corpse of a small catfish with a black shell. It is not a crocodile, but it is a start. I have always wanted to see a crocodile in its natural habitat.

I managed to stretch the hammock a little better than I had done last night. The tent, however, is more difficult. I did a trick. I stuck the oar at an angle to hang the tent on in case of rain. That’s a good start. The sun was almost down, but I decided to set up a bottom tackle with a banana on the hook. The excitement of fishing never grows old. You never know what will work and at what moment, so it is always better to try everything one extra time.

It was not so easy to get into the boat, as the entrance to the hammock was from the river side and the water there was two metres deep. The mosquitoes are maddening. I am protected from malaria (I take a course of pills), but not from dengue. My Brazilian acquaintance Paulo told me that he had suffered from this terrible fever. He said the pain was so great that he wanted to commit suicide. It was not a pleasant experience.

When I did get into the hammock, I heard something trying to get into my boat. I shouted. It got away. I scared it off. Now I am left wondering who it was.

It was still hard to breathe, and the mosquitoes were still waiting for me to come out, but now the drops were not hitting me directly on the body, and for a while I slept much more comfortably. As the night progressed, the light rain turned into a terrible downpour, and lightning lit up the sky. The creek I had been worried about became full of water again. My mind knows that that my boat is not in danger at this place, but I still cannot sleep, as my imagination is running wild.

***

I woke up in the middle of the night at the sensation of being wet. Not just wet, soaked. It turned out that some ship had passed by again, the waves displaced my boat from its place and the upper tent lost its support on the oar. In no time I was drenched in a downpour. I got the upper tent back on. I will dry the sleeping bag in the morning, it is no big deal. Right now, I just want to get some sleep. I am exhausted.

20 April, ~48 (233) km covered.