Chapter Eight

Cartagena to Manaus, Brazil

From Cartagena we travelled along the Caribbean coastal highway of Venezuela staying a few days in Caracas before continuing further to Cumana where the road turns south, eventually leading us to Brazil and the Amazonian jungles. The broad Orinoco River near Cuidad Bolivar was crossed by a well used ferry. In South America most broad rivers are crossed using ferries as bridges have yet to be built. In Cuidad Bolivar, flights were available to take us to Angel Falls, the highest waterfall in the world, located deep in the jungle and reachable by canoes which travel upstream along a narrow jungle stream. Unfortunately, when we arrived at the airport, we were told that heavy rains were preventing the flights from leaving. We therefore drove further south to El Dorado where we tried to locate a plane to take us to the falls. Once again our efforts proved to be futile as rain was still falling heavily, thereby preventing the departure of any flights. El Dorado was an interesting little town to be 'holed' up in, appearing like a movie set for Indiana Jones. This was especially noticeable while we walked around the muddy streets. Devious characters occupied little shops located in back alleys selling gold retrieved by divers from muddy rivers. Their working conditions left much to be desired! We were asked if we would like to dive for some gold but it required being lowered into water where there would be zero visibility, with air delivered by a rubber pipe. Apparently it was also necessary to contend with electric eels that could deliver some nasty shocks! Upon hearing this we declined their offers to dive! There were some experiences that even an intrepid adventurer does not need to undertake!

We continued our journey together over some very muddy roads which were being prepared for surfacing with asphalt. We crossed over into Brazil and took the only road from the border to Boa Vista. This road ended up being one of the most challenging of all in South America as it had been raining profusely, thereby turning the otherwise dusty track to thick mud and making it a horrendous obstacle to travel along! Even more so when there was only one useable lane, and trucks coming from the opposite direction wanted right of way! At the last second we would have to swerve our vehicles into the unrutted mud, keeping up momentum until the other vehicle had passed and quickly slide back into the main rut without oversteering the vans off the road and into a ditch. These ditches would have been extremely difficult to extricate ourselves from, especially as the traffic along these jungle roads was quite scarce!In Boa Vista, while passing the local airport, I noticed an old DC3 airplane. As a young boy I often rode my bicycle out to the local airport of my home town to watch the arrival of the weekly DC3 flight to our town. The familiar drone of its engines enabled me to instantly recognise the unique sound of this marvellous old aeroplane. I had dreamt often to take a flight in one of these magnificent and endearing flying machines. As an opportunist and with Mario's encouragement, we spoke with the owner, a local Brazilian and an owner of gold and diamond mines deep in the jungles. We asked if it were possible for us to accompany him on his admired DC3 which was transporting various cargo required at his mines. Needless to say this flight became one of my South American highlights. Flying over the Amazonian jungles with silt-laden jungle rivers meandering below, sitting at the co-pilot's controls of this magnificent old DC3, while at the same time listening to the characteristic and familiar drone of the planes' engines, I felt totally exhilarated by this uplifting experience. Certainly better than diving for gold with electric eels! We landed on a dirt airstrip and offloaded cargo which provided necessary supplies to the local workers, including the indigenous Indians, who worked in perilous conditions extracting gold and diamonds from the murky rivers.Just south of Boa Vista at a little river port called Caracarai, on the Rio Branco, we waited a few days for a river barge to load up with cargo. We had to haggle over the price but eventually both parties came to an equitable agreement over the transportation. With justified trepidation we drove our vehicles onto the barge connected to one of the typical Amazonian riverboats which ply these waters and which was heading to Manaus. The loading procedure ended up being a harrowing experience because the van fell off the steeply inclined planks during loading, not once but twice!! This could have been a potentially disastrous situation had the chassis bent. But the VW was solidly built! Fifteen workers eventually offered their help, grunting and groaning loudly as they slowly lifted the back end of the van onto the barge! When the cargo was secured we sailed off down the river, enjoying tremendously this unique experience. Some way further downstream, the barge moored alongside a little rickety wooden jetty located at the river's edge. It belonged to a hacienda built nearby. We helped load an additional cargo of fifty horses which were sent racing through a makeshift corral up to the jetty and onto the barge. They were terribly frightened as they were cruelly beaten during the loading procedure. I tried to intervene on a couple of occasions and succeeded in preventing some of them from being beaten any further. Once the horses were loaded, we let go of the moorings and continued along our journey. The next mishap that befell us was running aground on some river shoals, again not once, but twice!! They too ended up as interesting experiences as all the men had to get into, what could have been piranha infested waters, to help shove the barge off the sandbar. Eventually, after much groaning, grunting, pushing and shoving from the male passengers, the riverboat worked its way free, off the submerged sandbar. Relieved, we continued the river-trip, passing the jungled covered banks of the murky Rio Branco which flowed into the black waters of the Rio Negro before reaching our destination at Manaus. On several occasions during the trip, I entered the makeshift corral built for the poorly treated emaciated horses. They were terrified and covered with biting jungle ticks. I tried to remove some of the ticks, as well as helping with the feeding and watering of the horses, but few ate as they were in a constant state of terror. Towards the end of the trip, while I was in the corral, I was kicked in the leg by one of the horses, causing me to limp for a couple of weeks thereafter! So much for helping out!

In Manaus we had to wait six days for the riverboat which would take us to Belem, located near the mouth of the Amazon River. Manaus went through its heyday last century during the rubber boom when rich rubber barons were wealthy enough even to have a magnificent baroque opera house built (1896) to entertain the new social wealthy class. The monopoly on rubber was eventually lost when an English amateur botanist, Henry Wickham, smuggled out a rubber plant for transplanting to the British colonies of Ceylon and Malaya. Today, in order to attract people to this region, Manaus has been made into a duty free port. While waiting for our boat to depart we had time to take a boatride on the Amazon River to view the Meeting of the Waters, where the blue-black waters of the Rio Negro (a chief tributary) meet the silt laden muddy waters of Rio Solimoes. These waters eventually become one colour after some six kilometres but watching these waters churning in little whirlpools was an unusual and interesting spectacle. In a sudden tropical downpour the boat motored deeper into the jungle along narrow winding channels. Young children, totally oblivious to the rain, paddled out in their canoes holding animals of the jungle, including sloths and snakes such as the boa constrictors. Small bungalows were available for those wanting to sleep in the equatorial rainforest and within close proximity to the impenetrable jungle at night, when cacophonous jungle noises sound in abundant effusiveness, interesting to listen to from the safety of a hammock covered with a protective mosquito net.

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