10/12/20
Day 1 on the Rio Napo. At 15:30 I had Pepe drop me just east of Puerto misahuallí. The drive had me tense with nerves. Despite having a good idea what I would be facing over the next few hundred kilometres my skills have never been tested in a jungle environment and I had no idea how the raft would hold up.
I chose a put in tucked away from the popular swim spots to ensure any potential teething problems had as few spectators as possible. A quick warm up in the Eddie then I was on my way.
After the first couple of swifts I began to get the hang of the raft. It's sluggish and very slow but more than capable in the rapids. After 30 minutes a storm rolled in and I could see a rainbow stretching across Infront of me touching each bank of the river. It was stunning but just moments later I was in the centre of a small but powerful storm. I loved it! After two hours on the water I had covered 5 miles. I wanted to make camp with plenty of time tonight, as it was my first time setting camp. Again I was full of nerves as I built my camp. Everything was wet and ants would instantly cover everything I put down. But by 6 a clock I was comfy in my hammock and settled for the night. No campfire tonight. As I will break myself in easily.
02/12/20 07:30
Day 2 on the river. The rain began last night at around 10pm. Since then it has rained hard non stop. As the first light began to appear at 05:30 it was evident that the river had risen substantially. I was surprised at the relevant comfort I spent the night in. Despite this it was still a very restless night. The hammock and tarp have worked brilliantly to keep out the persistent rain and ants. I have a couple of small holes to repair in the hammock but other than that I think it will take me a few days to adapt to my new environment, but I don't think my kit will force me to suffer unnecessarily. The rain hasn't stopped and the river is maybe at triple the volume from the night before. The rain doesn't show any sign of stopping so I will wait it out in the hammock until the weather improves. Should I spend another night here? Should I wait for the water to drop? Am I taking too big of a risk putting on in these conditions? If I am going to spend another night here I should really invest some time in fixing up the hammock and finding some dry wood so that I can eat a hot meal today.
It was mentioned to me last full moon that normally it brings with it a few days of heavy rain. Last month it didn't materialize and I had forgotten about it. But as I sit here in the pouring rain that is quite different from the short but heavy storms I have experienced here so far I'm really hoping that Panda was mistaken.
02/12/20 21:00
So it turns out not all jungle campsites are infested with ants. Compared to last night this spot is a perfect little oasis. Packing up this morning was hell. There were a good few thousand ants on every piece of kit. Even suspending my kit on ropes did not help. My clothes for the day were covered. Every guy line I removed took a good few minutes and multiple bites, I resorted to chopping two off with my machete and thought long and hard about sacrificing 8m off my throwline that I had been using as a ridge line before instead resorting to slapping the hell out of the knot in a vain attempt to remove the ants. It didn't work, the vibrations only brought more. The most effective strategy was to grab the knot tight and fast to kill as many as possible then have a quick pick at the knot then repeat. In the end I did the best I could and jumped on to the raft and spent the next few minutes drowning every ant in sight. Despite the massacre I was still getting bitten and spotting them on my BA 3 hours later.
It was mid day by the time the storm had broken and I was on the water. The beach where I had parked my raft was now 2m metres under water and it took some sketchy manoeuvring before I was safe on my way.
The river was barreling along carrying huge trees and my raft along with it. The braids of the river required some big ferries far in advance because although my raft was stable and relatively manoeuvrable, it was a barge on the water and no contest for the river's power. In just 5 hours I had covered 36miles. On the straights I had nothing but time to think as a sea of green swept by punctuated by the odd dugout or banana grove (still very green.) I also had time to think up a name for my raft. After batting around some ideas, I remembered an old joke and laughed out loud for a minute. So without further ado. Let me introduce sally. Why sally I here you ask? Because she's got no arms.
Tonight was the first half assed attempt at getting a fire going. But it's Oreos for dinner again. Maybe I will manage a hot breakfast…
03/12/20
Another 36 miles ticked off today in 9 hours. The drop in water levels was extremely noticeable on my speed, however I still managed to cruise for the most part. I felt like I was gliding through the jungle on a travelator. Completely relaxed cruising at up to 5mph. Visibility stretching for miles and no need to do anything. And yet at other times I would be fighting the Eddie line or making a monumental ferry to avoid a strainer. Because of the speed of the river and the slowness of the raft these maneuvers took a lot of planning (think 300m out for a 25m ferry) and a lot of grunt work.
As I began my approach to Coca I was aware of the fact of how difficult it had been to reach the bank all day. About 2 miles out I stuck to the left bank like glue, despite the extra effort required to battle through the eddies it was probably overkill, but I wasn't taking the risk being solo. Just 500m east of Coca the Rio Payamino joins the Napo. Working at its mouth were 3 teams of fisherman that would drive up the river then float their nets down through the confluence in a perfectly timed routine alongside this another team was working a static net right where I would have liked to start the crossing. In theory it shouldn't have been that hard, just a 200m ferry but the consequences of missing coca didn't bear thinking about... It went off without a hitch. I kept on the power all the way until I could tie off a little upstream of the marina.
Some friends helped me up and offered me some beer whilst I caught my breath and cooled down. The last 2 hours had been some serious work and I was glad at the prospect of a shower and some kit admin. After checking into a fancy hotel (it has AC!) I got a shower then lay naked on the bed for an hour content with life then threw all my kit across the room in the hopes of getting things clean and dry. Before dinner I went for a walk to check on my boat, and to my surprise it had gone. Well fuck. Oh well, a burger and a pint will do perfectly.
Tomorrow I will look for my boat again and spend the morning looking into buying a canoe. If things work out I will book another night to sort my kit out then head back on to the river. If things don't work out. Well, we shall see tomorrow.
04/12/20
This morning on a final recon mission to find my missing sally. I crossed paths with Miguel, despite my poor spanish I believe he was trying to sell me a boat trip. I politely declined before showing him a picture of Sally and attempting to explain my situation. Despite the language barrier I could see by his reaction that he had seen my raft and we set off at once to the spot, only to arrive at the spot where I had originally moored last night, sin raft. Miguel looked confused, I couldn't help but smile. Miguel spoke to the owner of an engine shop situated just above the mooring. He too had seen my raft and soon Miguel was on the phone to a third person. The third chap informed us that yes he had seen the boat and yes it had been taken by three people. That solves that mystery. This may seem pretty straightforward but most of this was conveyed through mime and Google translate, my Spanish is coming along slowly but poorly.
Last night I drew up three potential strategies for moving forward.
1. Find sally and fit a small outboard for the onward journey.
2. Buy a dugout
3. Take Johnathan up on his offer at a free boat ride to Rocafuerte departing this morning at 7am.
Since Sally was confirmed MIA and it was now 9am. As we began to walk back along the docks, I decided to ask Miguel if he knew where I might be able to locate a suitable vessel. or in my bastardised spanish "comprar canoa?" As luck would have it Miguel pulled out his phone and showed me a picture, it was love at first sight. I have wanted to own my own dugout for a few years now, ever since I first saw them used in North East India and Nepal where I was never able to convince anybody to let me have a go. After discussing dimensions and gauging the price I was soon on the back of Miguel's beat up old motorbike and we began puttering through the streets of Coca out west to Miguel's home near the bank of the Rio Payamino. After moving a pair of homemade stilts and shoveling off some dog crap the canoe was turned over for my inspection. To my untrained eye it looked beautiful, freshly painted and it looked more than capable for the journey ahead. We shook hands and agreed to meet back tomorrow morning. I still had some errands to run.
The homemade hammock has performed brilliantly so far, but due to some user error when first getting to grips with it, it was in need of some TLC. Luckily for me there were 7 tailors within 100m of my hotel and I only had to leave the AC for 5 minutes. It's a luxury I haven't afforded myself once this year and I was going to take full advantage and at $15 per night it's hard to say no. After buying some rope to fit as a bow line, a poncho and another load of Oreos I was all set.
05/12/20
Day 5 of the trip, day 4 on the water. 33miles completed. This morning I met up with Miguel at 9:00am at the docks in Coca, we jumped on his boat and he took me about 2 miles upstream on the Rio Payamino. From there we loaded the canoe on a trike and walked it 300m back to the river. I happily paid Miguel and jumped on the water.
I can't remember the last time I had so much childish excitement. Miguel floated downstream with me back to Coca. After passing under the bridge I was once again on my own. By now the river is about 500m wide extending up to about 2km wide on the braided stretches. With strong rain storms passing through daily the river has maintained its level and navigating the islands is a breeze. I couldn't be happier with my boat. It cuts through water effortlessly and can glide easily for 25m. Following my progress on the map I calculated that it cruises at about 5 miles an hour. Considerably better than the 2.5mph I was managing in my prospector on the canal network.
Around 3 o'clock I arrived at the town of Limoncocha, a basic frontier town built around the ferry crossing, consisting of 4 or 5 bamboo buildings with steel roofs running either side of a surprisingly good tarmac road. The market was just winding down for the day but I still had a chance to buy some fried plantains, yucca, rice and an ice cold beer. Heaven. I noticed in the town that now the primary language has moved from Spanish to Quechua. The little understanding I had before is now even less. After saying goodbye to my new found friend (the local drunk who talked at me for 45 minutes with a big smile) and paying $2.50 for my pint and my dinner, it was back on the water at 4pm. Just enough time to put in a final hours effort before looking for a camp spot.
06/12/20
Day 5 on the water 38 miles complete. There's not much to say about the river now, it's big and wide and the scenery is just all green. It's beautiful but very samey.
The big problem today was the heat. It beat me down hard today and by mid day I was due a siesta with the canoe tied up under the shade of a tree. The highlights of today were spotting 2 turtles plopping into the water. My hands are sunburnt and my whole body is feeling the effects of the last few days' effort.
My goal today was to make it to the town of Panacocha, the lunch stop for fast boats on the Coca to Rocafuerte route. I surmised there would be a good chance of a bed for the night and if not, at least I would get some hot food.
Unfortunately to my disappointment the stop is 5 miles further downstream than the point the town is marked on the map. My energy dropped to its lowest on the next few miles and the strokes I did gnawed on every muscle in my upper back. It was only the gradual building of storms either side of me and gaining fast that caused me to find my reserve tank. The music was on and I smashed out the last 2 miles like a paddling machine. I love getting into this headspace on long journeys, just pretending you are a robot. Each stroke is perfect, the cadence is high and robots don't feel fatigue.
It was obvious which building was the hotel from a few miles out. A bright green building with balconies poking out above the trees. I slammed into the bank with a smile. The last burst had given me a new energy that had yet to be fully depleted. By the looks of the sky I had a good 30 minutes before the storm would arrive. Ample time to walk the 200m up to the hotel. What I found was a town with modern planning, wide roads but absolutely deserted. For the first 30 minutes I didn't see a soul. I dropped my kit in what I presumed was the hotel. Google maps listed a point 250m south east which caused further confusion. I'm used to basic accommodation but this was literally an empty building. I found a number to call for assistance but despite the 3 masts within eyeline none seemed to be for my network. Finally I spotted a young boy walking towards the shiny new covered basketball court and asked him where the hotel was. He again pointed to the green building. At that point I'd made up my mind that I would be perfectly happy sleeping on the floor of the hotel. I stowed the bulk of my kit in one of the empty rooms and went to hunt down some dinner.
This town seems to revolve around the lunchtime rush of the fast boats. Other than that the place is a ghost town. At the edge of town I managed to find a place that served dinner and again enquired about the hotel. I was told yes it is the green building and yes it is open. However the proprietor said that he had a room I was welcome to have for the night. The storm had hid just before dinner so I sat and waited it out before returning for my kit.
It's been a few years since I last had a bucket bath and this one didn't disappoint. The room is basic, it is fitted with a lightbulb without a switch, but at least the bed is comfy and fitted with a mosi net. The actual hotel didn't even look to have beds…
07/12/20
Day 6 on the water. 41 miles, my biggest day yet. I was woken up at 05:30 by the cockerel that works in the kitchen and I spent the next hour and a half lying in bed plotting ways to kill the cocky bastard. I had an early breakfast and settled my tab of $12 for dinner, a bed and breakfast. Not bad.
As I was leaving the owner asked which of his two young absolutely gorgeous kitchen staff would I like to take with me to help paddle. I looked at him, then at the two staff 2ho were both giggling. maybe I was just seeing things but I could have sworn one of them winked at me. I smiled and laughed my way out of the room, saying goodbye to such happy people.
By 08:10 I was on the water. The first hour I was accompanied by a beautiful big fat bee. She sat on my dry bag just in front of me and began to go to town licking a small 1 inch square patch of the bag. A bee's tongue is amazing. It's about the length of its body and curls tightly like a Shepherd's crook at the end. As I studied my new found friend the miles drifted by.
At this point I had become accustomed to the distinct sound of turtles plopping into the water, unfortunately today I only managed to actually sight one more. Up until 15:00 I paddled relentlessly, the heat was exhausting but despite the muscles screaming for a break I found a rhythm and I was loving it. It felt like paddling on a large lake, aiming for markers some 2-5km out. But the times I tried to exploit this by cutting corners I was either rewarded or punished with big effort ferries or be forced to do battle with some boils that up until that point I had not seen materialize. The river's flow is so dynamic flowing in every direction and with a huge variety of speed although for the most part is very shallow and just the perfect temperature.
I noticed today a change on the river. Since leaving Coca I have been the only dugout on the water. Now the river is only navigated by fast boats and huge tugs pushing up to 6 oil tankers slowly upstream.
I had marked on the map a spot some 32 miles downstream from camp that suggested a cafe set back about 500m from the river. I thought if there was a chance of food I might find a bed there too. I pulled in at about half three and started walking inland in the direction of the caf. The path I had chosen cut directly through a person's property running close to the house and required me to duck under the washing on the line. Just after I had passed the house I awoke 4 of the shittiest little angry dogs I have ever met. I was glad I had made it to the main trail before waking them. But now they were pissed and I didn't want to think about the return journey.
The main trail was formed by a Powerline cutting through the jungle that ran parallel to the river and after exploring the path about 500m in either direction of where I had joined, I could find no path cutting north to the supposed restaurant. I decided it was time to face the dogs. I walked back towards the trail junction and they were instantly on guard. I didn't fancy my chances against the four of them. I then attempted cutting through the jungle at the edge of the property boundary planning to circle back to my boat. I could still hear the dogs barking but after 50 metres it was hopeless. I was up against a thick wall of jungle and my machete was in the boat. I was glad about the decision to leave the main pack in the boat however. I was dripping sweat from the effort and headed back to the trail to the property just upstream.
I explained about the "no bueno perros'' and asked if I could use their path to the river. I arrived at a beautiful spot surrounded by orange and green butterflies on the banks of the river. Despite the beauty of the spot I was still 200m upstream of my canoe. I weighed up my options for a couple of minutes. After checking the seal on my watershed I jumped into the river. Well actually that would have been the smart choice. Instead I waded in and sunk up to my knees in thick mud. I realised then it probably would have been a better idea to remove my crocs. Finally I was free and drifted out of the Eddie and into the flow. I looked back to see a lady standing on the bank where I had just got in. How much of me fucking about had she actually witnessed? I gave her a wave and tried to look competent. The watershed made an excellent floating device as I swam the line between the manky strainer infested bank and the main flow. In just 60 seconds I was back at my boat laughing to myself. Better to take my chances with the river than the dogs.
After another few miles on the water I came to a village. I pulled in and tied my boat up again, hopeful for a pint. The village was like something out of a post-apocalyptic movie. None of the buildings were in decay, some were even quite modern (again featuring a covered basketball court.) But it was the way that the jungle fought hard to overtake the wide roads and verges and the fact that although I could see all 25 or so huts that made up the community it was completely deserted. I hopped back on the water and as it was gone 4 decided to start looking for a camp.
It was just approaching 5 when I settled in a spot. Some 50 metres back from the river. The furthest I have ventured into the jungle so far.
Although today I broke the 40 miles mark I think for my first time ever in a canoe it wasn't too much hard work. My head was in the right place and was enjoying the feeling of working my body. The canoe responds incredibly at higher speeds and at times felt the canoe drawing me forward to give her more.
08/12/20
I woke up this morning to my first dodgy stomach in Ecuador first at 5am then again at 6. Since it was light I decided to get on the water early and make the most of the cool morning air. I had just 22 miles to reach the town of Rocafuerte and the Peru border.
Despite a couple of loo stops I pulled into Rocafuerte just before 12. The waterfront here is clean and modern enough to rival Southport. The town itself is a very friendly little community with every person that passes young or old stopping to say hello. I checked myself into the only hotel in town that I could find (I didn't look hard) and begrudgingly parted with $30 for the night. I headed straight to the room took an incredibly refreshing shower then napped on the bed until mid afternoon.
I had originally planned to hire a guide and explore the Yasuni national park from here but unfortunately it was closed due to covid. The last few days I fantasized about continuing paddling all the way to the Amazon proper some 350 miles downstream. I weighed up my options for a good while but decided the 2 day speedboat trip for exit stamps plus 2 covid tests would be too much to organise. Plus I don't think myself and my kit is up to roughing it for potentially another 2 weeks in the jungle.
For now I have accepted that this will be the end of the expedition. With the remaining light of the evening I went out in an attempt to sell my canoe and was met with many interesting responses but unfortunately no sale. Since leaving Coca I had seen only 1 dugout on the water so I guess they are not in high demand. If the hotel was cheaper I would hold out another day or two to secure a buyer but instead it looks like I will just give it away and make my way back to Coca.
Comments
Post a Comment