Today we'd make our first exploration into the Amazon rainforest overland, in the Anavihanas islands. Exploring the Amazon rainforest on foot required some prep. Long trousers are a must, closed toe shoes, strong bug repellent to cover every inch and snake ankle protectors, and we’re off. Our guide carries a machete to clear a path through the tangle of vegetation. It's exhausting work tromping through the rainforest.
The sweltering heat and humidity, combined with all the layers of protection and bug repellent, immediately take over. Sweat mixed with chemicals, a steady flow dripping off my face that I quickly surrender to as we make our way through the thick jungle.
So many ants, these don't bite, but I was still a little squeamish watching our guide let the ants cover his arm.
The jungle floor, like walking on a sponge, is where a lot of the magic happens. Decomposition below means rich life all around. I can hear David Attenborough explaining the balance of life in this jungle ecosystem. My eyes couldn't decide where to focus, the rainforest is a busy place.
The Pedra Sanduiche
We carried on north a bit and then disembarked the riverboat via the tender to have another walkabout. Here we visited the ruins at Airão Velho, a once busy Portuguese settlement during the rubber boom. Developed by Portuguese colonisers this area became a hub for rubber trading. Missionaries played a big role, and a little church still stands that someone appears to maintain to some degree of order, that includes small animals sharing the space. The ruins of the ancient Portuguese townscape is being devoured by nature. It’s hard to make out the various municipal buildings of this once bustling outpost where hundreds once lived. On our way out through the thick jungle foliage, guide with machete in hand, we pass another family, the one and only tourist sighting we encountered during the entire week. It was strange to see other humans in what now felt like “our Amazon.” They looked just as bewildered to see us.
Back on the boat we strip down, shower (the shower water comes from the river!), and put on less dirty clothes. We quickly adapted to a constant state of uncleanliness as there is no escape. The sooner you surrender to this, the less frustrating the experience will be. The chemical and sweat drenched junglewear are hung up around the boat to catch some air. But we will wear them again and again just as they are. We mostly kept to two outfits each the whole week, the dirty or the dirtiest. And then something else to sleep in. All of which remained in plastic bag quarantine the rest of our travels after disembarkation.
We arrive at Jau National Park, where we will anchor for the night.
A quick stop at the park ranger outpost, everyone disembarks with passports to register entry. More other humans! We see they have WiFi, but they have a large sign up indicating that WiFi is only shared with the police. So a few more days offline for us then. Hopefully nothing blowing up at work for Scott, but mostly I'm relishing is this time totally off the grid. We leave the station behind and head for more adventure.
Evening boat safari at Jau to look for more wildlife, and again we are alone.
Not a soul. Pure glass every time. No cell signal. No other signs of life. We’ve never felt so remote. I didn’t think too deeply about the medical evacuation insurance we bought, or how we’d even access it. We were alone in the Amazon. And this is why we took this rustic boat, to escape the blazed tourist path to get a little deeper.
More birds!
The river waters were very low this season. This, we learned, explained the lack of other boat mates on our expedition, and thus our unintentional private charter. The crew said they’d received cancellation after cancellation due to the low waters. That translates to difficulty navigating which has real impact on the experience. It means some waters are impassible, even in our relatively smaller vessel, and it also means journeys take longer as detours to deeper waters are necessary. Gratefully enough 11th hour rain raised the river levels sufficient enough to accomplish the journey in time for our voyage, but the exposed tree roots along the river banks told the story. Our crew said this dry season on the heels of the pandemic has been devastating economically, both as an industry and for them personally. They thanked us repeatedly for coming.
We spotted many baby caiman at night most nights, but this was the only decent shot I captured. Fast, wiggly little suckers!
