Reflections on the Amazon
If you go into the Amazon today, be sure of a few big surprises, writes Justine Tyerman, who found a trip to the Latin American rainforest is a sure-fire way to overcome your fears.
‘Tarantula!’’ That’s all Pedro, our guide, said. I instantly assumed the spider of my nightmares was about to crawl up my leg or drop from the ceiling above . . . so I leapt from my chair and ran blindly across the room, missing the huge black hairy thing by a few inches.
Pedro thought that I had run towards it because I was so excited about sighting the world’s largest arachnid that I wanted to get really close to examine it. He was somewhat confused when I then screamed and ran in the opposite direction, leaping on top of a chair.
The rest of the group found my theatrics highly entertaining, especially the Australians who were busy taking selfies with the enormous spider.
My stellar performance during the briefing on the first night of our stay at Napo Wildlife Centre, in a remote corner of the Ecuadorian Amazon, became a popular topic of conversation among the guests and guides at the eco-lodge.
Thankful I had not stood on the tarantula, I magnanimously allowed everyone to chortle away at my expense.
Later in the evening, I said to Pedro: ‘‘If you want to see an even more dramatic reaction, say ‘Anaconda!’ and again, don’t specify exactly where. You may witness an act of levitation.’’
He replied, ‘‘Justine, welcome to the Amazon. There are many spiders and snakes here. Can I ask why you are here?’’
‘‘To confront my fears,’’ I said.
He nodded wisely.
Over the course of the next few days, naturalist Pedro and his Amazon-born, eagle-eyed colleague, Patricio, introduced me to an abundance of wildlife – scorpions, snakes, spiders, millipedes, caimans, monkeys, birds, giant otters, frogs, sloths, turtles, tayras, bats, crabs, butterflies, fire ants, and fish, but no piranha. They were there, we just didn’t see them. Pedro has also seen jaguars, dolphins, electric eels, ocelots, tapirs, and stingrays in the vicinity.
Apart from giving us the Latin and botanical names for all the species, Pedro taught us their quaint local nicknames: fire ants are called ‘‘underwear-off ants’’, because that’s what you do if they get into your knickers; and hoatzin birds are known as ‘‘stinky turkeys’’ due to their foul, manure-like odour.
I developed such trust in our two capable, knowledgeable, good-humoured guides, I felt
entirely safe and comfortable trekking through the dense jungle with machete-wielding Patricio in the lead and ‘‘Encyclo-Pedro’’ as I liked to call him, in the rear. I climbed observation towers high above the canopy of the rainforest, paddled up narrow creeks in dug-out canoes with a mere hand-span of freeboard between me and the black water, and even signed up for a walk through the jungle after dusk when nocturnal creatures are at their most active.
My heart skipped a beat when Pedro told us to switch off our torches and sense the essence of the jungle at night, but an anaconda did not reach out to strangle me in the dark. In fact, far from being intent on harming us, most of the wildlife surrounding Napo Wildlife Centre was shy of, or indifferent to, humans.
The eco-lodge where we stayed for three days and nights is a special place, staffed by exceptional people.
Owned and managed by the indigenous Kichwa Anangu community, all proceeds are re-invested into local projects such as renewable energy, education and healthcare.
Located in the vast Yasuni National Park, it’s not the easiest place to reach, but the journey there is an integral part of the adventure and adds context to the experience.
From the new airport in Ecuador’s capital city, Quito, we flew 45 minutes over the Eastern Andes in a sturdy twin-prop ATR to the town of El Coca. Here, we boarded an elongated, semi-enclosed motor boat, and navigated down the wide Napo River, a major tributary of the Amazon, for about two hours.
At Napo Wildlife Centre’s welcoming headquarters, we transferred to dug-out canoes and were transported for another two hours, up the narrow Anangu Creek by a pair of strong paddlers.
Gliding slowly and quietly upstream with the rhythmical sound of the paddles dipping in and out of the water was a sublimely tranquil and peaceful experience. The landscape unravelled gradually, which allowed my senses to adjust to and absorb the colours, textures, scents, sounds, and pulse of the jungle.
Late afternoon, we emerged from the creek and skimmed across the mirror waters of beautiful Lake Anangu towards the graceful lakeside cabanas and imposing observation tower of the Napo Wildlife Centre eco-lodge.
My home for the next three days and nights was a comfortable, spacious, standalone cabin, with a queen and single bed, and an en suite bathroom, overlooking Lake Anangu. The complex also has luxury cabanas with jungle-view spa baths and glass-floored lounge areas.
A team of happy chefs kept us exceedingly well fed with wonderful gourmet cuisine, and the barman was a whizz on the cocktails.
During our jungle walks and paddling expeditions, we learnt all about our location in the Yasuni National Park, the most biodiverse place on Earth.
Declared a Unesco Biosphere in 1989, the park covers more the one million hectares and is home to a staggering 600-plus bird species, 204 mammal species, 150 amphibian species, 121 reptile species, 500 fish species, and 5000 types of plant.
Ecuador has 8 per cent of the world’s animal species and 18 per cent of the world’s bird species, and the largest number of insects on Earth – 100,000 species in a single hectare. Believe me, you need serious insect protection in this neck of the jungle.
There are nine ethnic groups in the Ecuadorian Amazon, including two indigenous tribes, the Tagaeri and Taromenane, who have no contact with the outside world.
We saw myriad wondrous wildlife, learnt about the medicinal properties of Amazon plants, and visited the local Kichwa Anangu community of 200, where we were entertained with dances, songs and a delicious lunch. They are fine-looking, proud people who are striving to preserve and protect their traditions, culture and natural resources in an area where oil and logging companies are encroaching on tribal lands.
I felt enormously privileged to have stayed at the Napo Wildlife Centre and met the Kichwa Anangu families who, over a period of two years, transported all the materials to build the eco-lodge by canoe and on foot. Guests now come from all corners of the world to experience the magic of this place. The success of the project is inspirational. And it’s heart-warming to know that family-run Quasar Expeditions, with whom I travelled in Ecuador, seek out and support such sustainable initiatives, aiming to leave behind the smallest possible footprint.
On our last night, we gathered together for a team photo, saying ‘‘tarantula’ instead of ‘‘cheese’’. The laughter and teasing began all over again. Paddling downstream early the next day, a large caiman less than a metre from the canoe did not freak me out, nor did our lead paddler’s photos of the anaconda and boa constrictor at the lodge the previous day.
If the truth be told, I was even secretly disappointed I had not seen them for real – from a safe distance with Pedro and Patricio close by.