Day 5: The longest day on the water

25th September 2010

We woke up at about 5am I think, to a carcophany of different alarms, and one of the organisers screeching down a megaphone. Our breakfast today was AWESOME! I was overjoyed to have eggs! Seriously, I was very excited. They were scrambled with a little cabbage, onion and tomato and served on toasted crunchy bread that was a bit like giant melba toast. Fyf and I collected our teams breakfast (we passed on the porridge drink though!) and ventured down to the waters edge to meet Beth and Shane who were busy making some essential alterations to the raft. While I was whooping about our breakfast someone on a neighbouring raft made a "you can tell who's English" type of comment that delighted me further, and also dream of big fat fry ups.

The reason for the alterations were two of our plastic chairs coming unstuck on the first day, we also wanted to extend the canopy further forward at the front to provide the front paddlers with better protection from the sun, and we also decided to rip up and move back the two front seats, in hope that that front of the raft would be lifted out of the water a little, thus giving us better bouyancy and less drag in the water= faster and easier to paddle. Our friends from Pisco were also making adjustments and the mood was great while we prepared for the long day ahead and shared our tools (saw, hammer, pliers, machete- all the essentials a self respecting rafter has to hand). A lovely chap named Brandon was singing a great rendition of a catchy song (animal) by a band called Miike Snow that I happen to love, and I just knew I was doomed to have the chorus repeating in my head for at least the next couple of hours if not the entire day, such as it is when you are paddling like an automaton on a massive expanse of river. Check out this link and you'll see what I mean: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KlBhmiUalaw&feature=related Great song.

We launched our raft back onto the river, wobbled aboard and were dismayed to find that unbelievably, our "improvements" to the craft had actually worsened the floating situation and we were submerged even deeper than before! We were gutted but couldn't help but be amused by the humour of the situation and the prospect of how much of a slog the day was going to be, so swapped our positions about until we were satisfied it couldn't get any better. We set off and after the usual first half hour of aching arms we got through the pain barrier and didn't seem to feel them anymore. Shane however was in a lot of pain with his bad back, that gives him gyp at the best of times, let alone sat on his backside heaving a wooden paddle all day. We found ourselves aggravated that morning, snapping at each other and bickering; team moral was low. Luckily, being very close friends, we were able to address the situation frankly, honestly, and relatively quickly without causing further upset, and agreed that we really had to shut up, pull ourselves together and start getting along and enjoying ourselves or it would be a very long and difficult day.

Once we got past those first logistical and emotional glitches we proceeded to have probably the most enjoyable day of the whole trip!! I think partly because we were anticipating it to be so dreadful, but also because we now knew what to expect, and were better prepared. We were keeping ourselves as dry as possible (with the unavoidable exception of our feet and butts, obviously!). The previous day we'd been soaking ourselves in an attempt to keep cool, though it seemed to amplify the suns effect. We also opted for keeping our gloves as dry as possible to minimise the wrinkly hand effect which was gross and uncomfortable the previous day. We were all in full length trousers and sleeves (beth cooked her bare arm) and I applied sun screen underneath my shirt too as had burned through my clothes the day before. I was also going for a t-shirt under a longsleeve shirt to prevent the top of my shoulder becoming exposed as I'd already burned that bit too. To protect my stinging and sore burned face I stitched my long scarf to the brim of my hat so I could toss the free ends around my neck and have my whole face covered. With my big sunglasses over the top I looked a bit like a bandit, but I felt like today I would really outsmart the elements!

In no time we were having a blast. Knowing what a long day it would be, we kicked back and relaxed (as much as you can when you are paddling constantly) for the first few hours, took in the scenery, we sang, laughed and fooled about, enjoying the weather, the cameraderie and the ridiculousness of what we were doing. Every so often we'd catch up to another raft and have a little chat, swap stories and sweets and pass the time of day. We snacked on our provisions regularly and this made a real difference to our moods and also our productivity, as did the ProPlus that we broke out at about midday, and for Shane, a ton of ibuprofen and paracetamol. We'd also prepared in the morning by emptying a couple of rehydration powders into our water bottles and I have no doubt in my mind that helped us out too. The weather was far milder today which also made the going more enjoyable, with less of the intense sun, and a lovely light breeze. Team morale was high, our paddling in great synchrony, and our technique and togetherness having improved no end. The currents were favourable and parts of the river much faster flowing, though my fingers were still burning badly and a constant irritation despite reapplying cream every 10 minutes. We had moments of pure hilarity when we had to face the challenge of having a wee, which for the girls meant just going there and then in our trousers (I bunked forward off my chair and sat in the water on the logs in front to make this more comfortable, but it took a few minutes before I could actually make myself go, what with it feeling so wrong and also having a cackling audience sat right beside me), and for Shane, standing up and swivelling to face the back of the raft, desperately clinging on and trying to balance without sinking the raft on his corner. The reason we didn't drop our kecks was beacuse it was so hot and humid it would have taken about 15 minutes to get your drawers back up afterwards which was totally impractical and also involved exposing your moon far longer than was desirable. Another highlight was seeing a raft probably about 1 mile ahead of us on the horizon, with a passenger hanging their bare bum off the back of the raft- we spontaneously wolf whistled and whooped, loud enough for them to hear, and we saw the poor girl jerk her head sideways to see us and yank her pants up!! We died laughing, until we rapidly caught them up, rather to our embarrasment. Still we had a nice chat before gently overtaking them and then suddenly being hit by a fierce storm...

We were sailing alongside what seemed some high clay cliffs with roots and huge pieces of stick-like drift wood poking up from the water alongside- not the kind of debris you'd want to get tangled in. The water became choppy, and the winds more gale-like and the sky clouded. We got our heads down and in an incredible burst of power and team spirit dug our paddles deep to fight through to avoid becoming dashed on the banks or stuck paddling on the spot. Luckily our camo netting awning allowed the wind to pass through without dragging us back too much- when we snuck glances behind us we saw that poor team we'd overtaken not 10 minutes previously bucking and thrashing in the water due to their tarpaulin awning holding them back. It was scary, yet totally exhillarating, all beating with our paddles, chanting, "IN! IN! IN! IN!" To keep our coordination, Shane and Beth behind me shouting direction to help us control the craft, "Grace on the inside!!" or "All on the left side!!" and so on. I remember in the middle of the melee throwing my head back and simply laughing and whooping from the thrill of it all, soaking wet, muscles, paddles and adrenaline pumping, belly aching- battling with that river and the weather... it was totally wild.

Before we knew it we had crossed that treacherous expanse of water, the sunshine came out and the river calmed as quickly as it has maddened, and we paddled around a large sandy island and then into a lovely slipstream that allowed us to relax a little again. We observed great birdlife on the banks, the occasional cluster of jungle children who would wave as we called out to them, "Ola! Como estas!". A gargantuan, old fashioned looking, brightly painted riverboat came by threatening to flatten us and we held onto our seats in preparation for the huge rolling waves that would knock us about in its wake. The boat was full of hammocks all hung up alongside each other- accessing these jungle villages could clearly take several days by boat to and from the main towns.

Ever so slowly we rounded the last bend. We had long ago lost sight of the flourescent dots of the other rafts on the horizon as the day wore on and still we were not there, and we didn't see a support boat for hours. The sky turned pink as another huge stretch of water opened up before us like a millpond. More pink river dolphins joined us, their backs humping out of the water and breaking crimson and gold ripples on the surface, lifting our spirits. The sunset was just wonderful, melting the sky pink as candyfloss, and sure enough, a now familliar rumbling began toecho across the sky and we watched an incredible gold lightening show from the best seat in the house.

Suddenly it was pitch black. That last few miles seemed to take forever. We attached a torch to the front of the raft and used headlamps so the support boat would be able to find us, and so motor powered canoes with caiman hunting fishermen (who didn't use any lights at all) wouldn't mow us down, which was rather a worry, and we seemed to have a couple of close calls. We had heard how the support boat would come and tow any rafts left out after dark, and though we saw no one, we were aware of several rafts farther behind us, and reasoned they would be collected first, which suited us fine, as we didn't think we could bare not completing the day's rafting on our own steam. Still, they didn't come. The mosquitos began to bite and irritate us badly, attracted by our lamp light and sweat.

Finally we arrived at Tamshiyacu. We followed the lights on the shore and the sound of our support calling us in on the megaphone. Everyone was cheering for us! We started screaming at them to turn the lamp off because they were dazzling us so badly we couldn't see what on earth we were doing. They cut the lamp down and suddenly we saw a peruvian bloke up to his nipples in the water waving at us, about to be impaled on the sharpened points of our raft!! The locals helped to drag us to shore and we staggered off. Unlike the first day where we'd frequently swapped seats and stood up to stretch, this day we had not moved. We had been paddling without stopping for a total of 11 hours 39 minutes!! The last 2 hours of which were in the dark. We were relieved and beyond exhausted. We collected our life jackets, sponge pads, day pack, machete, hammer, gloves abd paddles etc off the raft and were helped up into the town, which came as a surprise as suddenly before us was a very advanced looking town built on concrete roads, well lit, with plenty going on, as there was a political rally happenning, which means huge PA system, blaring music and such for the locals to enjoy.

We swaggered into town feeling like cowboys, walking through the streets with people taking pictures of us, congratulating us, or simply staring quietly as we mooched by, taking it all in. I saw the scene as if through a movie camera lense, rather than through my own eyes, perhaps because the situation was so surreal and I was so exhausted. We were directed to the block where we would be sleeping- another big room for almost everyone under the same roof. This building was one of several like it surrounding a square of grass with a small basket ball court with stadium seating, and there was also a block of toilets and (bucket) showers. Not wanting to exert myself any further, I forwent a shower in favour of changing straight into clean clothes and crashing out on my matress- thankfully, support had already carried our backpacks and layed them out on our beds for us- thank goodenss for small mercies and those wonderful people!

When my friends joined me from their showers we got our meal tickets (two each for lunch and dinner) and got some food- pasta carbonara with a lovely salad of chopped up beetroot, potato (or something like it) and other salady bits, and some fruit. We ate on the concrete floor under a circular thatched roof, obligatory mangy dogs pottering about, and the welcome company of fellow rafters. Jordan and I caught up and continued on to share some mega jungle wine, the company of some of his Pisco friends, and then each other for more talks and laying out on the grass until we really had to turn in. I padded into the sleeping hall and was greeted by Bethyns immense snoring effort, that I thought at first was Shane! I squashed down in between Beth and Fyf and was out like a light, despite the blaring music from the massive amps that were literally leaning against the outside of the wall of our block, playing the world cup theme "wave your flag" on repeat, as some local politician has changed the lyrics to suit his campaign. In the night Shane had felt something large suddenly upon him and swatted at it thinking it was a bat, when Fyf revealed it was in fact a massive rat- she had seen them running in amongst everyone and they had been crawling all over us in our sleep!