JAN 16: If the Rio Paraguay was a river of chocolate milk, then the stretch where it joins the Rio Bermejo it can only be described as café latte, bubbling and boiling as this central South American branch blends with the chalky brown waters from the Andes (and again, where the Parana meets the Paraguay).
You know how coffee looks when you add milk? How yeast bubbles up when you make bread? In fantastic clouds and eddies and silent ‘eruptions’ the river boils like this before our eyes, with curdled water for miles and miles and miles …
Leaving Paraguay (at last!) we tie up to the decrepit dock at Pilar to check out at Immigration, dangling in the current from our bow line, to let the rickety wooden ferries from the Argentina side come in and out. We’re anchored so long, as Marie goes back and forthwith paperwork and copies, that all sorts of creatures come to visit: crickets, double-winged dragonflies that look like biplanes (skittish, unlike their cousins the electric blue darning needles which will land right on your finger so you can free them outside) and even a cardinal: bonking his head on several windows before being ushered (a bit dizzy, I bet!) out.
Continuing south, in places the banks rise 20’ high, in others tree tops peek out from the water. Just southof where the Rio Bermejo comes in there is a deserted cemetery; elsewhere flooded estancias and ranchitos blend into the river: the horses, cattle and sheep knee-deep in water. There are verdant jungles and swamps, with meager dwellings of wood and tarps tucked in the most shocking and remote places. Nearby you might spot patches of sugar cane, corn or banana trees, and a small boat. It is humbling that people can and would make their homes here.
Amidst this peaceful river, I note a demarcation on the chart near Curupayty “MINEFIELD” … land mines from the Triple Alliance War of the mid 1800s … War and poverty will find you anywhere in the world.
After several hours we are greeted with modern powerboats zipping by DOMINO and I fear at the city of Corrientes the river will lose some of its magic … we cross under the angular span of a bridge Marie and JP said, three years ago, “One day we will pass under this bridge.” Today was the day.
Kamikaze fireflies and tap dancing bugs
JAN 16: The visitation of multi-legged and winged critters continues well into the night, when we anchor off Empedrado, with a small cluster of foliage (not quite enough to call an ‘isla’) to port, that chatters with strange sounds all night; and to starboard, across the channel, a fishing contest that likewise draws noisy-all-night neighbors, with music playing even as we awake at 5AM to start a new day.
DOMINO hosts a plethora of creepy-crawly-creatures (a veritable biology class in insectology) as we ply the river. Marie and I stand outside at night, battered by kamikaze bugs too stupid to realize DOMINO is a solid object: drawn by the slightest glow of light off her Bristol white hull. They smack into her, clattering, falling from the flybridge; they fly into us and the windows, like a suicide mission - towards any glimmer of light. We have big black beetles, skinny ones, crickets, grasshoppers, flying ants and aphids of all kinds; and a veritable lightshow of fireflies incessantly pulsating. It’s like our own performance of “A CHORUS LINE” with a non-stop tap dance of bugs and a playbill light show. ALL. NIGHT. LONG.
Sleeping at the pilot berth (the cooling breeze this night keeps the mosquitoes at bay) the bugs are drawn to the instrument panel, which I cover with a towel. Even so, the subtle glow attracts plenty of visitors and I fall asleep to a racket of clicking and snapping and scratchy bug noises …
PS -- in the morning, we have to clean up all the corpses!
PPS – JAN 20 a smallish green frog takes up residence today. Wanting to set him free before he croaks (bad um bum!) I scoop him up with my hand and a Tupperware and pass him to the guy at the fuel dock.
You have never seen such panic in a manly-fuel-dock-kinda-dude! Arms flailing, high-pitched squeals … “POISON!” he yells and throws the frog into the sink (the sink??!) Hmmm. I get to work scrubbing potential poison frog juice from my hands and plastic container until one of our guests points out is it nothing more than a cute green tree frog. Just as I suspected …
Navigation by sticks, trees and hypothetical marks:
JAN 17: The Rio Paraguay is poorly marked to start with; in its flooded state it is impossible to know where the river ends and the forest begins. Thankful to have Gustavo, our pilot; it is still tenuous navigating by sticks, patches of cardboard on trees, and marks that should be there … but aren’t.
Basically you find a mark (it might be a large square white sign on a tree in the jungle, or a post painted white) and navigate towards it until you see the next mark (or not – as there are not many!). The charts we use on the northern part of our route are drawn by hand, Xerox copied over and again, with lagunas, riachos, vueltas and portreros of camalotal chicken-scratched in, and every building sketched in (they are so rare). When all else fails we follow the camalote: as these floating islands of greenery follow the swiftest (and deepest) part of the waterway. Only once do we come to a groaning halt – but luckily the bottom is squishy and we slide back off.
Riacho de Goya
JAN 17: Perhaps it’s because the boat is so sleek and beautiful … or that Marie and I (two blonde gringas in swimsuits) are smiling and waving and snapping photos on the aft deck … or maybe it’s the massive American flag we fly astern …whatever it is: DOMINO is a hit on the Riacho de Goya, a tiny estuary skimming a stretch of weekend and vacation homes, small ranchitos, and barrios – all equally and indiscriminately flooded.
The number of deserted and destroyed homes is devastating: the water lapping at the shanties, homes abandoned, meager possessions afloat … and still – naked children splashing in the rio wave to us; old timers drinking their terere -- ankle deep in water beneath giant trees -- wave to us; fishermen in boats, or the shoreline; tug boat drivers, ANYONE from Asuncion, they all wave to us. Truly heart warming: I feel blessed.
Putting the SHAKE in “Shakedown”!!
JAN 18
Motoring through Santa Fe, the Prefectura radioed us with warnings of a tormenta. We had seen the clouds building: big Charlie Bravos, streaked black on the bottom, and lightning, in the distance; and close the hatches and watch the squall line approach.
BAM! It hits hard – with rain then hail and gusts later reported to 50-60mph (h
ow many times in one season can a girl experience 60 mph winds?! uncle!) and total white-out conditions. The island ahead, the riverbank to port: obscured by the driving rain. Navigating by radar we pick our way through the narrow course … Water streams in through the hatches that havn’t been dogged on the second lip (this requires one person standing outside on the hatch to compress the gasket, with another below to cinch it closed – something we will never again cheat on) and DOMINO tosses and turns in the turbulent water.
Soon the storm abates but the rio is a minefield of camalote and fallen trees and waves caused by the long fetch of the river … I can gladly report that both the boat and the crew handle the ‘shake down’ test with flying colors!
SAVE THE COWS!
JAN 18: Tonight we are anchored in 30-feet of water on a small riacho off the Parana, with cows grazing just a few feet away.
And I was worried about snakes.
(Actually it is quite sad as a lot of cattle are stranded on shrinking spits of land and islas, due to the flooding, and are at risk of starving or drowning. SAVE THE COWS!)
Earlier we passed an area which Gustavo pointed out has a lot of birds, crocodiles and giant rats (which I took to mean Capybara) however we did not (fortunately) stop.
Rosario & beyond
JAN 20: Early yesterday morning we arrived in Rosario: a fantastic city and home of John Deere So. America. Part of the last two days have been spent doing speed trials (YEE HA!) with the technicians and top brass – pretty exciting stuff. But also – I played hookey yesterday and went to the island for a little sightseeing … more on this when we next hit some wifi. For now, Marie and I are dashing to pick up our laundry and some groceries, then we’re off – probably not stopping again ‘til Piriapolis or Punta del Este (3-4 days??)
Til then … much love & warmest greetings to you all XOXO Betsy
PHOTOS:
Turbulence where the muddy waters of the Andes and Amazon meet
JP and Marie survey the flooding
Flooded barrios along the Riacho de Goya
Old Glory makes it through the tormenta
Tied up at a dock in Rosario
No comments:
Post a Comment