Ricardo was adamant: “Shoot it, shoot it now.” For all the abundance of imagined dangers in the Amazon, our eagle-eyed guide’s exhortation was merely a call to point our cameras at a yellow-headed caracara perched on a tree. It was a cry with which we were to become familiar as we headed upriver through Peru’s northern jungle.
The camera may have captured that particular moment, but it could never convey the majesty of this gigantic expanse of river and forest and its mind-boggling statistics. The Amazon Basin spans nine countries, covers 2.7 million square miles (13 per cent in Peru) and houses the world’s largest tropical rainforest, producing 20 per cent of our oxygen. The river itself is said to be the longest in the world (around 4,650 miles). In this diverse eco-system there are at least 3,000 species of fish (possibly three times that number), 4,000 types of butterfly, 1,300 bird species, 110 varieties of rodent and 75 different primates. And then there are the snakes and insects?
But you get facts and figures in books. The purpose of this journey was to experience the Amazon up close and personal.
Taking an early morning flight, we had flown from Lima to Iquitos, the capital of Peru’s Loreto department and chief town of the country’s jungle region. Founded by Jesuit missionaries in the 1750s, this busy tropical port enjoyed a brief boom during the rush for rubber in the late 19th century. A monument to that brief period of wealth can be seen at the silver-painted Casa de Fierro (Iron House), constructed by Gustav Eiffel for the 1889 Paris Exhibition: it’s now a café and restaurant.
At the docks we’d boarded La Turmalina, built to resemble a 19th?century Amazon river boat and looking a little like a cross between a Chinese junk and a Viking longboat. The comfortable, three-deck, Peruvian-crewed vessel carried an eclectic group of around 24 passengers, just about the right number for a river exploration.
From Iquitos, Jungle Expeditions (the local ground handler) specialises in Amazon trips and over six days sets out to explore some 600 miles of the Peruvian stretch of the river and its tributaries, the Marañon and the Ucayali. The company is committed to the environment and the region’s cultural heritage, particularly the ribereños (river people), with whom we were to have regular encounters. Certainly our two guides, Edgard and Ricardo, were to prove as passionate about preserving this fragile region from the ravages of man as they were knowledgeable about its flora, fauna and people.
The immensity of the Amazon hits you the moment you set off from Iquitos. The river is maybe half a mile wide at this point – and gets far wider – with the distance occasionally broken by “islands”. Encased by a vast canopy of trees on either side, it’s an awe?inspiring spectacle. As the 19th?century German explorer Baron Alexander von Humboldt said: “Here, in a fertile country, adorned with the eternal verdure, we seek in vain traces of the power of man.”
And yet as we learnt more about the surrounding habitat, it was hard not to be angered and amazed at how man has tried – and is still trying – to destroy an area frequently referred to as the lungs of the earth. As we heard tales of the devastation wrought by the rubber boom, cattle ranchers, road-builders, soya producers and, worst of all, the logging industry, it made us appreciate our surroundings even more. Charles Waterton, an explorer often referred to as England’s first environmental activist, would not be impressed. He toured the Amazon in the early 1800s praising the “noble trees” and writing extensively about the birds, especially macaws; he even kept a sloth as a pet.
We had numerous opportunities to take in the river and the jungle, setting off at least twice a day in motorised skiffs searching for wildlife. No one wanted to miss out. This isn’t like Africa with its big game; the creatures here are invariably smaller (though no less dangerous) and better hidden, with devilishly clever and subtle camouflage.
All except the birds, that is. The vibrantly coloured macaws, parrots and parakeets were enough to satisfy the trip’s most ardent bird-watchers. Even as a non-twitcher, I found it hard not to be caught up in the sudden rush of excitement at seeing macaws overhead, or an Amazon kingfisher, the odd, prehistoric-looking hoatzin, the rare great potoo, or a bat falcon or black-collared hawk searching out prey. In all we name-checked some 95 birds in six days – a mere fraction of this bewitching aviary.
But the most rewarding way to watch the wildlife is to get above the canopy at the crack of dawn. Such an opportunity arose after an exhilarating night in a tented camp in the Pacara-Samira National Reserve, enlivened by someone finding a boa constrictor dangling outside her bivvy.
The camp lies in a crook of the Ucayali and Marañon rivers and has been a protected region for more than 20 years. Suspension bridges link several canopy platforms up to 80 feet above the ground from where Ricardo pointed to squirrel and woolly monkeys (two of the seven primate types we were to see, including the tiny pygmy marmoset). This is a place just to listen and keep still against a cacophony of peculiar, haunting sounds.
It was a markedly different experience from the previous afternoon, when we’d embarked on a two-hour walk through the claustrophobic jungle floor. After paddling across a lake in a catamaran-canoe (spotting a family of shy capybara, the world’s largest rodent, but failing to spy – with a modicum of relief on my part – the fearsome anaconda that was apparently lurking nearby) we donned snake-proof leather gaiters. The jungle heat and the density of the trees were almost suffocating. We wondered how long we’d last if we got lost. Less than an hour, probably.
Edgard regaled us with facts about the trees as we picked our way along the forest path, being careful not to disturb anything that might mean digging out the first-aid kit. We noted the umbrella-shaped cecropia, the vast emergent, light-fibred kapok, the cannonball tree (so named because of the size and appearance of its fruit) and the multi-purpose palms, all thrusting towards the sun. Occasionally there would be a splash of bright colour from a bird of paradise flower or heliconia. Everything has its place and purpose and much of the flora and fauna has developed a symbiotic relationship; it’s like some vast, super-efficient recycling centre.
We were here in late April, the tail-end of the five-month rainy season, when water levels rise some 30 to 40 feet. River branches link to form one massive body of water. Ploughing through the flooded forest in our skiff gave us the perfect chance to explore hidden corners of this natural treasure trove.
One morning we moored among the carpet-like water hyacinth to fish for red-bellied piranha with makeshift rod and line and chunks of tuna. Piranha are so greedy they are fairly easy to catch – the trick is to flick them out as soon as you get a bite. Up close their teeth make them look unspeakably vicious, but it’s said they are not as dangerous as their reputation suggests. Even so, a swim in the river later that day took place far away.
On another trip we spotted both pink and grey dolphins; local Indian legend suggests that the creatures transform themselves into elegant men at night and impregnate unsuspecting virgins. They are considered sacred by some Indian tribes and we heard it’s bad luck to kill one. Later, in a shallow lagoon, another highlight was seeing the Amazon’s best-known flower, the huge water lily, Victoria amazonica, which can be over six feet in diameter. You can – apparently – lie across them. Nobody tried.
Not content with just taking in the wildlife, we made several visits to the settlements along the bank. My fear had been that the Amazon might be like the Nile, or even the Thames, with numerous boats ferrying people up and down. We saw none. Instead, the villagers were hospitable, vaguely intrigued by our presence and never pushed their wares (mainly bead bracelets and intricate wooden and gourd carvings).
In the busy and expanding town of Nauta, we raced around on tuk?tuks and wandered through the vast market, which sold everything from clothing and videos to strange, succulent fruits and catfish (a familiar item on the ship’s healthy menu). In Amazonas we watched women grinding palm leaves for sap, while another villager showed us the technique for binding the leaves for roofing material.
Later, in tiny Santo Domingo, I played football with the boisterous Peruvian crew against the villagers. Foolishly, I was wearing walking boots, although that may not have been the only reason I was substituted. We lost 6-1.
The ribereños make their living from farming, fishing, hunting and latterly tourism. After the ravages of previous centuries, life for the indigenous people of the Amazon has improved in recent years. The government and, in part, companies such as Jungle Expeditions have also encouraged the river people to become custodians of the forest by forgoing hunting (pig?like peccaries and tapirs are becoming scarce).
That they are the natural guardians of the forest was confirmed by a visit to a local shaman. Here in a moloka (meeting house) we heard stories of spiritualism and the mystical connection between the people and the jungle. Many Peruvians mix Catholicism and animism in their beliefs, and our shaman utilised figures of St Paul and Mary together with other paraphernalia and potions; as we departed he performed a smoky tobacco blessing for good health and luck, coughing frequently as he did so.
As we headed downriver back to Iquitos and took in the beauty and mystery of this vital region one last time, it was hard to ignore another statistic. Some 42 million acres of Amazon basin rainforest are lost to deforestation each year – a rate of destruction that gave another, particularly urgent, meaning to Ricardo’s exhortation to “shoot it now”.
Essentials
Getting there
Noble Caledonia Riverdiscounts.com 800-640-4899 offers a 15-night Amazon exploration with a tour of Cuzco and Machu Picchu from £2,895 per person (the price includes flights, full board on the boat and breakfast-only hotel accomodation). The next trip is on October 18.
