DAY 60. MY MOTHER TOLD ME

I set off before dawn. As soon as I left the harbour, the wind picked up, and then came an overwhelming downpour again. I found a bigger log and welcomed the dawn with joy. With it left the nasty weather. Apparently, it was the last whim of the cool night, which did not want to leave without a fight.

Now I can see the river all the way to the horizon! There is no end to it, only the edges. And even those are far away.

The canned meat is a delight! I really lack food which is rich in fats. Tomorrow, I think it will be time to try my salted candiru.

I put on my socks for the first time in a month to apply oil on my feet and to cover myself from the gnats that kept pestering me.

No sooner had I started to enjoy the morning than the rain began again, and the wind picked up so fast that the waves started lapping at the sides of the boat. Here we go again.

***

It was horrible. I have no energy left whatsoever. The thing is that the wind was not letting me get to the right bank, which was closer – it was driving me hard towards the fairway. The further I was carried away, the higher the waves grew. At some point I had to cover my belongings with the raincoat, put my life jacket on and stand on my knees paddling towards a small island in the middle of the river.

For a while the wind died down. I figured it was over, but that was just the beginning. With renewed vigour, the waves began to hammer at my boat. I barely had time to turn my boat so that the waves hit its bow. It took the impact and turned towards the island. When I had no strength left at all, the good old sea chanty ‘My Mother Told Me’ helped me out once again. I was shouting it at the top of my lungs, paddling out to dry land.

It was less than 50 metres to where the island ended. I was going to be right in the middle of the raging river (the island divided it in half), and then there were 100 kilometres of free wind tube and no way to reach the bank in this terrible weather. Fortunately, I managed to get to the island and tie the canoe to it.

I was extremely exhausted and irresistibly sleepy, but I only made 35 kilometres today, and I must stick to my ‘Plan 69’. Ha-ha.

In the evening, I spent the last of my strength to reach a small village with a communication tower. I was received well, and they shared their internet with me. When I asked about staying overnight – whether I could dock at the bank and sleep in my boat – I was refused pointblank, and they explained that they were afraid of pirates. I did not expect that, but I am not offended by it. Apparently, piracy is a particularly dangerous issue. People on the way had not exaggerated it.

The sun is going down. The banks are steep here, and I am trying to find a place where nobody will find me. In the dark, I found a strip of forest with a low bank right under the cliff. Mustering all my remaining strength, I pulled the boat through the wet clay so that it could not be seen from the river. I want to sleep in safety without the rocking and the waves. I have become particularly appreciative of such small things lately.

13 June, ~63 (2646) km covered.