Rio Marañon: Nauta Caño and San Francisco
The rain forests namesake announced itself this morning, for we awoke to a true tropical deluge. It didn’t dampen our spirits much, though. We delayed our pre-breakfast departure by half an hour, and when we set out the rain had abated. Kayakers poked along the shores of Nauta Caño and skiffers did the same, and all were rewarded by the first three-toed sloths of our voyage.
Three-toed sloths: can anyone imagine a stranger beast? To live so slowly and at such altitude, to perch for hours in a tree that hosts hordes of ants, to have arms that seem twice as long as your body—fantastic! The books can assert their facts all they like. We know they’re just plain odd and wonderful.
After breakfast we headed out in skiffs again, this time pushing further into the creek and exploring its byways. It was a rich morning: one skiff saw a spectacled owl, another had fantastic views of saddleback tamarins, the third caught sight of a cayman lizard. More sightings, of course, were had, but it’s the overall effect of plenty and wonder and lives being carried out just beyond our sight that stays in mind.
Rain chased us back to the ship, the skies letting loose just as we turned back. Back at the Delfin II, we dried off, then gathered in the lounge to hear Rudy talk about some of the Amazonian fruits that we have been enjoying as displays and during our meals.
San Francisco was our afternoon destination, a rare chance to walk on terra firme, or land that is not seasonally flooded. Our guides helped us see the subtle differences in the trees and vines, and we even tested the long-distance capacity of sound to carry in the dense forest: in other words, we pounded on a tree trunk. A quick stop at the market put together by the craftspeople of San Francisco completed our excursion, and several of us returned to the ship with treasures: bags woven from palm fiber, carved and painted gourds, even a flute or two.
The Amazon’s differences, we are finding, are parsed out in large segments: high water and low water, rain and blazing sun, day and night. When darkness falls, another world opens. Where the creatures of the night hide during the day is almost beyond comprehension, but when we set out after dinner, flashlights in hand, we found some new friends: spiders, katydids, and even a few tree frogs. The frogs, it should be no surprise, stole the show. With their pale yellow bodies and extraordinary fingers and toes, they felt utterly iconic and yet unfamiliar. It’s not the same as the T-shirts. Sure, the form is the same, but these frogs pulsed, leapt, and croaked.
