by kabukiman » Tue Feb 11, 2020 4:54 pm
The following morning, the native porters load your gear and provisions onto Rio de Janeiro boat, the Santiago. It takes several hours to get everything secured and stowed, but before noon the vessel is ready for a multi-week trek to get to your destiny.
There is a morning mist that quickly evaporate, and the heat of the day is building as you depart from Rio de Janeiro, leaving the busy metropolis behind.
It takes several days to arrive to the river mouth; only then the voyage to the river properly starts.
It is forty feet long, thirty feet wide, and despite its flaking paint and spots of rust, it is very serviceable. A small wheelhouse consisting of an eight-foot-square, corrugated metal shed with an entrance cut out of the metal stands towards the aft of the vessel. A large, boxy engine assembly is located behind that, driving the blades of the propellers that churn just beneath the water’s surface to push Santiago along at up to 10mph. Four canoes “wall-in” the barge, while a series of three-foot-tall poles line the perimeter of the boat. There is no immediate shelter, although there are tarps that can be stretched from the wheelhouse and attached to the poles or creating a makeshift, if very cramped, tent.
Life aboard Santiago is relatively easy, and the first two days pass without incident. The native guides, and any of you that express interest take turns piloting according to the directions listed in the map you made, but only Harry will be given time at the wheel without supervision. On the second day, the lumbering shape of a zeppelin is seen above the forest canopy, but it is too far ahead to interact with and you soon lose sight of it as the Santiago follows a bend in the river.
Midway through the third day on the Amazon, after a steamy morning rain, you encounter a gruesome sight. A thin log bobs low in the river, and draped across it is the dull yellow-and-black spotted corpse of a jaguar. The sight spooks several of the native guides, and some panic rises.