04-APR-C-14

 

ALTER DO CHAO:

A VISIT TO THE FISHING VILLAGE ON THE

TAPAJOS RIVER FOLLOWED BY AN AFTERNOON

WITH SWIMMING IN THE TAPAJOS OR

“MOUNTAIN CLIMBING” AN ADJACENT HILL

 TO OVERLOOK THE VILLAGE AND THE RIVER

 

April 28, 2004

 

            We are anchored at the junction of the clear 9blackwater) river Rio Tapajos and its fishing village town of Alter do Chao.  The ALTER = 2* 29.56 S, 54* 57.42 W, and marks the point at which we are not seeing just the annual high water flood marks inundating the cabanas along the beach of this small village cruise ship stop, but also the twice daily oscillations of the tidal effects of the ocean still far away, into which the Amazon thrusts so much water so far at sea.

 

            After breakfast, I took the Zodiac into town, carrying the postcards I had written along the way with the stamps I had bought opposite the Opera House in Manaus.  The post office was hard to find, but when I did so, it was closed.  This is middle morning on Wednesday, so I asked when it will open to deposit cards?  We don’t know was the uninterested response.  Is there a box into which a card can be dropped?  No, nothing of that kind exists, so you will just have to carry your cards with you the way everyone else always does.  There is even a bus to Sanatrene if you need to go there to drop them in the box but it takes a very long time to get there from her.  Thanks anyway.

 

            So, I joined the shoppers rushing home with their treasures.  I purchased—well, a Guarani—this is the tree berry soft drink.  I also waited until the hordes were gone and the mark up of the goods and services, neatly spelled out on a card with the exchange rate on a sliding scale for the benefit of the shopkeepers, and elected not to buy a blowgun or a bow and arrow or a spear, each of which did not seem like carry on items. I saw some nifty little things, but then had the thought—“Why am I going through the attic and al the collected souvenirs of a half century of wandering the world in throwing out into a dumpster a lot of things that are not immediately useful, and looking to buy more to meet the same fate?  I could probably use the large stool or the very large carvings that would be floor models like the ones I coveted in Zambia that would make a good group in the game room with the intertwined necks of the carved hardwood giraffes, but I could not get them home without buying an extra seat on the aircraft.  So, I am not coming back with anything special—including the fact that I brought back the postcards I had intended to drop off.

 

            A young girl was carrying around a peach-fronted parakeet and a few folk were attempting to sell beaded necklaces along with the attraction of the sloth they were carrying.  A few items are made of turtle shells and pirarucu scales. But I believe they would be illicit import items.  Besides, these were tour ship prices with all designated dollar items ready for the markup trade.  So, I wandered at sloth speed through the streets, and came back to the Orion, and sorted out the handouts that the people had asked for and a few of the lecture topics to be touched upon tomorrow, and had a big lunch without the wines which I figured out had made me drowsy in the afternoon if not more susceptible to the invading chiggers by not noticing them at the time, and typed up the reports of the days’ events.  I awaited a chance to go out from the ship and to climb a mountain I can see from my port side cabin window, which is a mile and a half away from the beach where we will be dropped later and a good steep climb that I need more than I need another souvenir.

 

CLIMB THE IGNEOUS HILLTOP,

AMID SWIRLING VULUTRES, BREAT BLACK HAWKS, SWIFTS,

AND CLOUDS OF DRAGON FLIES,

TO SUMMIT, RETURNING TO THE BEACH TO SEE AN INDIGO SNAKE AND DIVE INTO THE CLEAR BLACKWATER RIVER

 

            I needed that!  It was hot and the overhead sun would have fired or enervated anyone in the beach scene, so I immediately headed for the understory of the forest cover, and hiked along a trail alone.  It was a sandy trail and I noted a few bright lizards and saw a few colonies of marching ants.  I climbed out of the sandy part of the scrub beach with a mixed flora of what looked like sea grapes except that they are not bordering salt water, a couple of cacti, and even a “ghost tree” which had disappeared but the cast of ant nests on it still stood where it had been complete with the “drip tip” on the ant extensions that had once been branches or leaves.

 

            I got to the summit and noted the red igneous rocks looking like “a a’ volcanic stone with a high amount of gas content for explosive activity.  Far into the distance I could see a couple of other apparently volcanic hills along the large flat jungle and the even wider vastness of the Amazon, about five to eight miles wide at this point at this time in the flood season.  At the summit of the hill there was a geodetic survey marker and also a large metal cross.  I looked out over the channel that had brought us close to the town of Alter do Chao, and saw the Orion riding at anchor which I could frame with two black vultures perched on a low lying limb of a tree near the top, looking back over their shoulders at this unusual piece of flotsam heading their way.

 

            As I watched a swarm of various birds were swirling in a vortex as the thermals lifted them.  First a double helix of vultures soared up, and then a group of swifts and martins flitted by.  There were also two great black hawks that were pivoting around, noticeably staying away from the cloud of vultures.

 

            As if on a signal, a flotilla of dragon flies came buzzing in, all of which were helicoptering around me.  One stood out as an exception that was a bright emerald green.  I watched as the birds and the dragon flies were moved along with air currents that had given me a bit of cooling from the strenuous climb.  I needed that stretching since I have been a sloth throughout the cruise since there are no points for any kind of sustained activity—which may explain the physiognomy of some of the people on this ship. I do not deal ordinarily with the great American masses.

 

            As I was coming down and a number of people were encountered coming up, I returned to the beach, which was just at the turn of the sun over the horizon marked by the tree canopy.  There were tow speices in a panic as I pulled into the beach landing point where I had left my bag with the guides who were running the Zodiac shuttle.  One species was human with people running away for the opposite side of the flooded spit of sand.  The other was a very frightened indigo snake which had been crawling along the sand near the water line when it encountered a number of hysteric people who were yelling things like “Cobra!”  The snake took refuge in the dense leaves of a tree, and I could see its yellow underbelly, as it occasionally stuck out its neck to stare down with a beady eye or two at the tormentors who had scared it so badly.

 

            David Ascanio from Venezuela is going t say something about archaeopteryx tonight and will possibly read the passage from the quoted pygmies when they explain that “nine sleeps under the nandas” they had encountered a flying reptile which they draw in an exact resemblance of archaeopteryx.   I may introduce both handouts and the lecture topic tomorrow at the recap tonight which follows the cocktail hour and precedes diner—both of which are excessive events I should minimize.  I type through the first and decline the luxurious fifth course in the latter.  It is only a few days from the end of this trip and I am already thinking it would be a good idea if I were not any longer floating on a luxury yacht and not moving much.  That will have to change soon, and it most probably will, as soon as I get back to start the process of moving, running and going up to Michigan to run a race only half as long as a marathon, but twice as long as I can ruin right now.

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