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Published: January 28th 2009
PANTANAL
The Pantanal is a vast network of wetlands that extends into Paraguay and Bolivia, but the vast majority is in Brazil. During the rainy season the numerous rivers swell, forcing exotic animals to cluster together on small patches of land, making for some amazing wildlife viewing. It's not uncommon to spot a wild jaguar this time of year. Originally we were planning on seeing our wildlife in the Amazon, but everyone we talked to said that you never see anything, at most you just hear the animals.
We usually don't take organized tours, but the amazing number of activities they pack into a few days made it very tempting. We packed our bags into a small van along with a British couple, Tristen and Ceri, that proceeded to drive for 5 hours over a dusty road that cut through lush vegetation. When we arrived at our hotel we truly knew we were in the middle of nowhere. As we stepped out of the van we immediately felt the heat, easily over a 100 Fahrenheit with the highest amount of humidity we've ever experienced. Insects buzzed around us like high powered electrical wires. Exotic (and expensive) birds of every
color flew around us as if they were as common as pigeons. Even the huge Blue Macaw was fairly common.
We checked in and were looking forward to resting, but our first activity was scheduled. We hoped on a small river boat, slathered ourselves in sunscreen, and made our way through the maze-like, mosquito infested river until we stopped at a small riverbank. One of our friends we met, Tristen, dove right in to the murky, chocolate milk-colored water without hesitation.
“Are there piranhas in the water?” I asked our guide.
“Yeah,” he said without concern.
“What about crocodiles?”
“We have caymans,” he said. I didn't know what a cayman was, maybe like the poodle version of a crocodile or something.
“Anacondas?”
“Yeah,” he said again.
“Oh...OK.” Screw it, I thought. You only live once. I took off my shirt and dove into the brown, mysterious water. Nothing bit me, thankfully. The water was warm, if a little dirty.
Our guide put the inner tubes in the water and we jumped on. It took us a half hour upstream to get here by boat, so I figured we had roughly an
hour by inner tube back to our hotel. After floating for half an hour I spotted a huge reptile on the shore. It was no less than TWELVE FEET from head to tail! I yelled to our guide who thankfully was behind us in the boat.
“Uh...what it that?”
“A cayman,” he said, seeming unconcerned.
I looked closer. It wasn't moving. It looked like it was made of plastic. I felt relieved.
“Oh I get it, you put that fake cayman out there to scare the tourists. HA! Good one!” Suddenly the cayman opened its mouth, revealing a perfect set of razor sharp teeth. It seemed to be smiling at me. I suddenly felt raw fear. I was on his territory. What would I do if this twelve foot monster decided that I looked like a tasty morsel. The “Jaws” soundtrack seemed to be playing from somewhere overhead. I couldn't hide anywhere on this inner tube. Luckily he seemed pretty uninterested, and we floated by uneaten. We were actually in more danger from mosquitoes than any thing with sharp teeth.
The next day we jumped on the boat again for our next activity: piranha fishing.
We passed the riverbank where we swam yesterday and kept going until we turned at a junction of a smaller river. “This is the Red River,” our guide told us. “The piranhas are much more aggressive here. Please, no swimming here. You see this scar?” He showed us his finger with a semicircle scar running down the underside. “I was just washing my hands in the water when a piranha bit off half my finger. I took the skin and put it back. Whenever farmers want to cross this river, they take an old cow, stab him, and throw him in the river. As the piranhas are eating that cow, they all cross.” I was starting to understand why it was called the Red River.
Halfway there the guide stopped the boat for seemingly no reason. “Howler Monkeys,” he whispered. I strained my eyes through the trees but couldn't see anything. Our guide cupped his hands around his mouth. “AUEW AUEW AUEW AUEW!” Suddenly a fury of activity erupted within the foliage, and a great number of brown silhouettes scampered about, shaking branches with primal fury and screaming with a sound that would keep the boogie man awake at
night. “I just imitated a rival male, looking for females.” Our guide spoke Portuguese, Spanish, English, and Howler Monkey.
We continued on, shoring the boat at a descent spot, and scaring off a five foot cayman which scampered into the water and watched us from a safe vantage point, only his eyes visible. We took out our bamboo fishing poles, our guide quickly adding small chunks of cow heart to the hooks. Why cow heart, and not just meat? I never figured out. Maybe to a piranha it's like the juicy center of a Tootsie Roll Pop that you have to work towards. We dipped the meat into the water, and in no less than 1.5 seconds the piranhas were attacking it. Ammi pulled her hook out, with a small piranha attached, flopping viciously. It was still biting the metal hook, making CLICK CLICK CLICK sounds because of its teeth. I noticed the cayman's eyes bulge. They moved slowly towards us like submarine scopes. “Watch out, Ammi! He's coming towards ya.” I kept visualizing the National Geographic videos where the cute gazelle is drinking water, and is attacked by the croc and taken under water before the rest of
the herd can even react.
“It's too small to eat,” the guide said. He took the pole and let the piranha flop about on the beach. “Get your cameras ready.” The cayman's eyes came closer, slowly. He was stalking his prey like a cheetah in tall grass. Then, so fast it was a blur, the cayman snatched the piranha in it's jaws and proceeded to macerate it. We could hear every crunch of fish bone, gristle, flesh, and teeth. “EEEEUUUUUEEEWWWW!!” We all said in unison.
By the end of the day Ammi had caught 9 piranha and I caught 5, although only a few were keepers. That night we had fried piranha and piranha soup. I used my sharp teeth to bite into an unsuspecting piranha. Ironic? Didn't taste bad, better with hot sauce though.
I thought we were done for the day, but we had another activity planned. We jumped back on the boat, again, but by now it was pitch black. What were we going to see? Our guide turned on a spot light, illuminating a small circle in the darkness. 'We won't be able to see anything,' no sooner had I thought this than
I realized how wrong I was. The spot light was not going to reveal an animal's body, but its EYES. A series of small red lights suddenly appeared at the river's edge, like a row of reflectors on a highway guard rail. There was literally one every ten feet. We could see more caymans at night that in the day! After a while we saw a pair of giant yellow eyes shining at the base of the trees. What blood-thirsty creatures were these? It turned out to be only cows, but they looked so much more freaky at night. Maybe they came to take revenge for all their brothers I ate.
Every once and a while the spotlight would reveal a stray bird that flew low overhead. They'd been following us for a while but the guide didn't say anything about them. “What kind of birds are those?” I asked.
The guide was silent, as if contemplating how to respond. In the quiet I could barely make out small clicking sounds coming from the birds, like two thumb tacks taping against each other. “Bats. But don't worry, they are after fish and not people.” Fishing bats? I'd never
heard of such a thing. We returned home and walked to our cabin among an ocean of electric blue fireflies. It's too bad this place isn't protected by the government. It might be gone in a few years.
The next day we hopped on the back of a truck and drove down a dusty road to a farm. We were going to walk through the jungle to another farm where we'd ride horses back to this farm. We entered the jungle, and immediately felt the heat. I was beginning to question my choice of wearing pants and long sleeved shirts. Everyone else was wearing flip-flops, shorts, and muscle shirts. But then, after five minutes everyone else was swatting the plethora of mosquitoes that landed on them, or screaming as they realized they were standing in an ant pile. One German tourist got stung ten times by wasps. Ammi was having fun, that is until a small tarantula walked across her boot. The guide picked it up in his hands to demonstrate that it wasn't dangerous, but Ammi had had enough of the jungle. We had been planning a trek in Columbia to the Ciudad Perdida (Lost City) that took
three days through the jungle, but Ammi nipped that idea in the butt. After an hour or so we walked out of the jungle, and Ammi breathed a sigh of relief. “Aren't you happy I made you wear a long sleeved shirt?”
“F*CK YES!.”
We arrived at the next farm, rested in some hammocks, ate lunch and saddled our horses. Ammi couldn't decide if she should call her horse “Glue Stick” or “Alpo.” Our guide proceeded to lead us BACK THROUGH THE JUNGLE!!! I didn't mind, but I could tell Ammi was about to go postal. “This is what we dreamed of as we were saving for this trip, remember? Being all sweaty and grimy. It's the adventure you wanted.”
“It sounded so much more fun in a cold, air conditioned room,” Ammi said.
But it turned out that the horseback ride through the jungle was amazing and Ammi loved it. No matter if it is fun or challenging, this trip is always an incredible adventure!
Thanks for reading. Next stop: São Paulo and Rio
***TRAVELERS' TIPS***
-Amazon Discovery or the Campo Grande HI hostel tour company is good for buying a pantanal tour, but try to get a room with air conditioning.
-Wearing a long sleeve shirt is actually cooler while in the jungle than a tank top. Go figure. Plus it protects from bugs.
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Sandy Owens
non-member comment
I didn´t know Brazil was so AMAZING!
Wow guys you are having such an amazing time! Who else can say they fished for piranhas and survived! You are AWESOME!