A Brazilian Amazon Fishing Experience

The narrative that follows is the result of a journal I kept during a fishing trip to the Amazon Basin October 16-27, 2000. I conducted subsequence research to clarify some of my questionable memories. Although it has gotten a bit lengthy, my intention is not to bore you, but to offer enough information so that anyone considering such a trip, (be it for fishing, bird watching or just to see what the jungle is like at certain times of the year) will not be reluctant to take the plunge. The "unknowns" and apprehension which I faced were tempered by experienced fishermen who had made this trip before. I hope that my experience will dispel your fears or reluctance to enjoy such a trip.

I encourage you to click on the "readme" file to find out how to get the maximum benefits of the graphics.

A Brazilian Amazon Fishing Experience

By Gunther Winkler

For several months I was aware that my good friend, Myles Covey, was arranging a fishing trip to Brazil. It sounded fabulous but, for various reasons, I really had not intended to join the group. So much for intentions!

August 16, 2000

While having dinner with Norma and Myles one evening in August (celebrating their retirement and the closing of Myles Travel Agency after 25 years), the conversation included details about the planned adventure in the Amazon Basin near Manaus, Brazil. Before I knew what was happening, Myles (with my wife Helen's encouragement) convinced me to go along. This was just two weeks before we were to leave on a 2 week tour of British Columbia and the Canadian Rockies, and an additional week in Oregon.

Needless to say, there was a lot to do to get everything to fall into place and not much time in which to do it. I didn't even know where in Brazil Manaus was located and had no time to educate myself before heading to Canada. About all I could accomplish at that point was getting the necessary visa from the Brazilian Embassy in NYC.

September 30

When we returned from our 3 week vacation I talked with Myles about what type of equipment I would need for the fishing trip. I relied on him to set up everything else as I always had on previous fishing adventures that he conducted. I took my rods over to his house and he combined them with his so we would save luggage space. He gave me a tackle box which he had made up for me with "the going lures". Ironically it had a small label with my name on it from a previous trip to Venezuela 10 years ago. Helen packed my luggage and I packed the carry-on with my reels, shaving kit, a change of underwear and other miscellaneous items. I was ready!

Friday October 13

Returning from some last minute shopping, I received a phone message from the Brazilian airline stating that I must confirm my flight reservation with Llyod Aereo Boliviano Airlines. This was interesting because the day before, when I talked with Myles, he said that he would confirm the flights. When I called, I found out that the flight from Miami to Manaus was moved up 2 hours. This would not give us enough time between flights. I informed Myles and he promptly changed the domestic flight reservations for us and the guys from the Philadelphia area. Instead of flying to Philadelphia to join them for the flight to Miami, we flew to Miami via Charlotte, NC. Nobody else from our group had gotten that message from Lloyd. A little shaky! This could have been a disaster since, as I understand it, this airline only makes the Manaus flight once a week.

Monday October 16

Two hours before I was to meet him at Bradley Airport, Myles called me. I asked him if he was ready and how he was doing, he replied "Not too good." He had chest pains during the night and his doctor told him he shouldn't be leaving the country. He had to see him for a checkup that afternoon. This shook me up because just a year ago he had had to cancel the same trip to have a pacemaker implanted. Myles is 81 and he had indicated that this was probably the last trip he would organize and I know that he was looking forward to it.

I recorded all the information about the flights, contacts in Brazil, hotel, etc. and then drove to his home to pick up my fishing poles. Myles had obviously had a rough night and I was very concerned, but he sent me on my way.

I came back home, loaded my luggage and carry-on into the car, and Helen drove me to Bradley Airport. I had second thoughts about checking my baggage (and more importantly, my poles) through to Manaus but decided to take the chance. No problem, everything arrived when I did.

My flights to Miami were uneventful. At Miami I disembarked and walked toward the main lobby. Miami Airport is laid out like a large wheel, the spokes being the area where the aircraft park. The main lobby is about half way down the spokes toward the center. I asked someone at the information counter where Llyod Aereo was and he sent me to the other end of the airport. I had about two hours before flight time. After what seemed to be a 20-25 minute walk, I could not find Llyod Aereo and it was not listed on any of the monitors, nor was Manaus listed as a destination. After shuffling back and forth for a while, I discovered LAB on the monitors. Aha! I had overlooked the "Boliviano" portion of the name. Manaus was not listed because it was not the final destination. Additionally, another stop, in Caracas, Venezuela was the reason for the change in departure time made a few days before.

At the LAB check-in counter, I asked the agent if anyone had checked in with fishing gear. He said that there were a few people who had arrived about a half hour before. They had related some information about one missing member of the group having a heart attack. I mentioned that he was my fishing partner and as far as I new he only had experienced chest pains. Then I began to worry. Did any of the others know more than I did? The agent recorded my last flight number to insure that my luggage would be on board.

Now I had about an hour before flight time so I decided to get something to eat. The pickings at this end of the airport were slim. I bought a carton of yogurt and headed for the boarding area where I ran into Bill Pittock. My son Brian and I fished with Bill 10 years ago in Venezuela and, about 5 years ago, I fished the Great Slave Lake in the Northwest Territories, Canada with him. I was very happy that we made contact, since he had fished the area in Brazil twice before and I assumed that he knew his way around. I would have been lost if I were alone at this point.

We walked to the second floor and met the rest of the group from the Philadelphia area: Bill McKinley, (whom I met in Venezuela), Tom Pittock (Bill Pittock's nephew), and Harold Carlin who ran a charter boat service in North Carolina. Nobody had any more information about Myles. As far as we knew he was OK.

We sat in the boarding area for about half an hour and chatted with others who were interested in these crazy "gringos" who were going fishing in the jungle. We all had a good laugh and boarded the aircraft (310 Airbus). We left on time and had a fairly good late night meal. I fell asleep, woke up briefly in Caracas, and then again when we landed in Manaus about 3:30 AM.

Day 1, Tuesday October 17

After a short wait we passed through customs and were met by Marinete Lima (I later realized that she was the owner's [Marcus Lima] wife) who introduced us to Gibson Paixao the general manager. Gibson took us by van to the very elegant Tropicana Hotel for a buffet breakfast. The buffet was open 24 hours a day and had a variety fruits, juices, hot dishes, meats, breads, etc.

When we returned to the airport, we were introduced to a Brazilian couple from the city of Brazilia who were also going to the fishing camp. We boarded a float plane (I don't know the make and model) also equipped with wheels for landing on the tarmac. In addition to a pilot and co-pilot, it had an 8-10 passenger capacity depending upon the amount of luggage on board.

The plane took off about 6:30 AM and headed for points unknown along the Rio Negro. We climbed to about 8500 feet and traveled at an average speed of about 140 knots for an hour and a half (this works out to about 210 nautical miles [241 miles] as opposed to about 220 miles calculated from a map.) The area seemed to be a vast jungle with water everywhere and very little evidence of civilization. The Rio Negro was huge, with multiple channels. (photos were actually taken on the return trip since my vantage point on this flight was not good.) As we started descending we could see many of the areas that we might be fishing. As we approached our destination, I was a little concerned about not being able to see where we would be landing. There was an overcast and we could see only an occasional tree protruding through the clouds. We came out of the clouds almost on top of the camp and we all felt good about that We circled and landed on the river in front of the camp.

The Amazon River basin, which includes the Rio Negro (its largest tributary), consists of a great forest/jungle that encompasses an area estimated at 2.2 million square miles (5.5 million square kilometers). It contains 20% of all of the worlds fresh water that empties into the oceans. The area that we fished (about one degree south of the equator). was the Rio Caurés, a small tributary of the Rio Negro.

We met our host Marcus Lima (standing) and he assigned us our rooms. The camp is a floating hotel capable of housing16 guests (2 to a room). The rooms were air-conditioned, with comfortable beds, and attached shower/toilet rooms.

Marcus told me that most of the rooms on the lower level are used by his staff. He said that he normally takes 8 fishermen on a typical trip so all the guests are on the second level. Any more would be to much to handle, but on rare occasions, he could take up to 10 in an effort not to break up a group.

Because of weight limits on our flight to camp, we were told to pack only 3 changes of clothing. To insure that we would have clean clothes every day, the cleaning lady would pick up the laundry each morning, wash it and hang it out to dry that day. The drying part (in my case, jeans) sometimes took more than a day since the humidity is quite high there.

A good replacement for the jeans would be zip-off pants which are light weight, fast drying, and easily converted to shorts as the temperature rises during the day. A couple of my fellow anglers had them and now, thanks to "Mrs. Santa," I'm all set for my next adventure.

We checked into our rooms, changed into our fishing clothes, set up our fishing gear and came back to eat another breakfast. We packed our lunch boxes with fruits and sandwiches from the breakfast buffet, a procedure that we followed each morning. I really enjoyed the juices, fresh pineapple and small bananas! Good, good , good!

Guides were assigned and they put our lunches into the boat coolers. Fishing partners were established and, since my partner Myles was still back in Connecticut, I fished alone most of the time. My guide's name was Ed (Eduardo). He spoke no English and I spoke no Portuguese, but we got along perfectly. While fishing, our communication was limited to signing or, if she was near by, getting Magaly (we called her Maggie) to translate for us. The general consensus among the other three guides was that Ed was the best. He grew up here and has spent much of his life (29 years) exploring the area.

Maggie was fluent in English and our salvation many times. Since her husband, Maury, was very familiar with all of the fish in this area, we managed very well. Maury, by the way, was an excellent fisherman with a vast collection of lures that had produced good results for him elsewhere in Brazil. He generously let me try many them, especially if he found them useful that day.

Sport fishing is very big in Brazil and Maury is a tournament champion many time over. These tournaments are held throughout the various regions of this vast country (which is larger than continental USA) and include fishing from tropical ocean waters along the cost and warm jungle waters to the cool fresh waters in the southern border with Argentina.

On the first day I noticed that boats would always travel in pairs. We had 4 in our "flotilla." You could be out of sight of one another, but the guide in each boat basically knew where the companion boat was. I always had a good feeling knowing that, if we had any problems, or didn't show up at the appointed time, (e.i. lunch) that someone would be nearby. We never did have any problems.

Loading our gear in the aluminum boats, we traveled about 3/4 of an hour up the Rio Caurés and had our lines in the water by 10:00AM. Over the years, I have taken pride in knowing pretty much where I am when I travel through the woods. Here, however, I was soon completely lost when we traveled as little as10 minutes on the river or any of its oxbows. Hundreds of streams and lakes are the norm here. The area is flooded 5 months of the year with up to 30 feet of water, thus increasing many, times the area that can be navigated and fished. Marcus told me that the area at this time was flooded about 16-18 feet.

Basically, this flooding changes the areas where fish and their prey are found. Many of the bait fish follow the flooded areas into the woods and hide behind the trees and within the small growth. The larger fish aggressively follow them, or wait behind a tree trunk and pounce on a migrating fish.

For me the fishing was very poor on the first day. I tried using the recommended "surface propeller lures" but had very few strikes. It was not until 1:00 p.m. that I caught my first two fish on a "Rat-L-Trap." It was somewhat like a Peacock Bass, but not quite. These fish put up a good fight, swam deep and weighed about 2 pounds each, small by standards in the area.

It was sunny and hot all day. I used sun screen on those areas not covered by clothing. I wore jeans (not the best choice), a light, long-sleeved cotton shirt, and a wide brimmed hat at all times. This worked very well for me most of the time.

I drank "like a fish"..... water, beer, and soda. Brazil has a very popular soft drink (more so than Coke) that tastes very good. Champagne???? I went through about 3 cans or bottles of each ever day while on the water. I would also eat 2-4 fresh oranges from the cooler. These were very refreshing.

Wildlife sightings were primarily birds. We saw various species of terns, herons, egrets, parrots (green and black), macaws, eagles, kingfishers (3 species), killdeers, Muscovy ducks (black females and black and white males), and wood pigeons almost every day. In the evening, traveling back to camp on the river, we spotted bats, nighthawks and other unidentified birds. My only disappointment was that I didn't bring my camera with the telephoto lens. I wanted to travel light so I borrowed my wife's small Olympus pocket camera. It took good wide angle and panoramic photos, but the fixed wide angle lens could not do justice to the wildlife. One time I spotted the silhouette of a large woodpecker; it resembled our native Pileated woodpecker, but I have no clue as to what it was.

About a dozen or so times I saw large iridescent blue butterflies. They had about a 10 inch wingspan but they fluttered past us so quickly that it was next to impossible to photograph them. One such sighting I believe its color was an iridescent green although it may have been the lighting.

Early on I kept the camera in the boat in a ventilated bag, shielded from the sun but it got much too hot. I then tried carrying it in my shirt pocket, feeding the strap through a button hole as a precaution against losing it and this worked out fine.

On the way back to camp, Ed and I were in the lead boat traveling on still waters. I felt as is we were suspended in space looking at the flooded shore. I also got a good feel for how much the river winds back and forth. As we traveled, the setting sun would alternately appear in front and in back of the boat as we zig-zagged to the east and then to the west. It gets dark very quickly after sunset, going from daylight to darkness in about 15 minutes. We got back to the camp at about 6:00 P.M.

I quickly took a shower, changed into some dry clothes and went to the dining area where happy hour, complete with an array of hors d'oeuvres was in progress. This was something else again! Myles had ordered liquor for each of us, and since I normally drink very little of the hard stuff, I ordered only one bottle of gin for gin tonics. For some reason, drinking in the tropics doesn't seem to effect me very much; it almost seems like there is no alcohol in the drink. So the gin didn't last long and when it ran out, Marcus treated us to the local fruit based drinks. I could only handle a little of this stuff. It was good, but potent!

Dinners were served buffet style and consisted mostly of beef, pork, or chicken and fish cooked in several ways.

There were insects, but they didn't seemed to bother us. During my stay, I believe that I saw only one mosquito. Marcus pointed out a very large moth (7-8 inch wingspan) that flew around the peak of the tent near the lights. It finally landed on the ridge pole. It was amazing. You would swear that it was the head of an owl with large eyes looking at you, hence the name, Owl Moth. No telephoto lens, therefore no photos.

After the BS session (that's what all fishermen do) and more than a little jesting, we went to bed. Bedtime was usually about 10:00 P.M.

Day 2, Wednesday, October 18

Wake up call was 5:30 A.M. Our breakfast began with fresh juices, great coffee and pineapple. The pineapple was very sweet and so tender that you could even eat the core. Scrambled eggs, meats, pastries and various other entrees were served ever morning. We packed our containers for lunch and snacks from the breakfast buffet.

We were in the boats by 6:00 A.M. and started traveling up the river at the usual speed of 25 knots. It was misty that morning and after about 20 minutes, my eyes started burning a bit. What happened was that the sun block I had put on my face got wet from the mist and started running into my eyes. I put on my Gortex rain coat because I was getting wet and cold. That raincoat saved me several times during this trip.

It took us over an hour to reach our destination. Before we started fishing Ed stopped at a camp to drop off supplies (baked goods, flour, etc.) for a native farmer who supplied Marcus with fresh bananas and pineapples. Marcus said that the old man probably hadn't seen any of these in almost a year. His camp was along the river, at the highest point (about 25 feet above the flooded river) I saw in the area. Ed returned to the boat and said that the farmer wasn't around.

Fishing was slow for me in the early morning. I had no hits, but I watched Maury catch a few Traíras. Through Maggie, he told me what type of lures (surface propeller) he was using and demonstrated the retrieval method. I caught 3 Butterfly Peacock Bass in a small cove that afternoon. The fight they put up is something to experience.

While fishing these waters (and forests), we could hear what sometimes sounded like a cannon going off. Most of the time it was peacock bass hitting their food or a lure. It seemed (my theory) as if they opened their mouths wide and then closed them, creating the loud sound as the mouth cavity resonated.

There are 3 types of Peacock Bass (Tucunaré) in South America, the Grande, Spotted (speckled), and Butterfly. The Peacock Bass is not really a bass but a cichlid, in the same family as the Angel fish (often seen in our aquariums). An excellent description of the various fish caught in this area can be found at the following WEB sites:

http://www.peacockbass.com.br/fish.htm

http://www.peacock-bass.com/peacock.htm

During the afternoon, I heard chaotic thrashing in the forest that appeared to be coming toward us. It turned out to be a band of monkeys traveling through the trees. It was difficult to estimate the size of the group, but a good guess would be about 30-35. Ed told me what species they were, but I could not understand him. Later on in the day, in another area, we spotted a second group. Later that evening Marcus told me that there were about 20 different species in Brazil.

Traveling down the river, we passed a slight bend in the river. Behind this bend was scrub brush separating a long pond from the river. A waterway allowed us to enter the pond down river side of the brush. I cast my lure about 15 feet into the pond side of the thickets. On the second cast I had a strike. I realized immediately that I was in trouble. The fish headed toward the brush. I increased my drag significantly, but it did no good. It made it to the brush and managed to wrap the line around a tree. Ed paddled toward the fish and was about to "unwrap" it when he saw the Peacock snap the line, and we said bye-bye to him. He indicated that the fish was "grande", about 2 + feet. This was the first lure that I lost. I was beginning to think that the (recommended) 14 pound test line was insufficient for these waters.

On the way home, we spotted an old man in a dugout canoe. He and Ed had a long conversation, none of which I could understand. I was very anxious to take his picture, but not knowing the customs, hesitated to ask for permission. It turned out to be the farmer that Marcus had sent the supplies to. That evening Marcus said he would have been honored to have his picture taken. I would get another chance two days later.

That evening we enjoyed our happy hour again and, at dinner, Marcus said that he was leaving the next day (on the Lady Joyce) to go down the river to pick up supplies. Since he would not be back until the following day, Maggie would be our only translator.

Day 3, Thursday, October 19

We left camp and headed down the river for about 3/4 of an hour and fished an area that is an open/ partially wooded field when the water level is down. I had no luck in the morning. I don't think Maggie and Maury did much better. When we met with the other two boats for lunch, they indicated that they had "killed them." Incidentally, that is only a figure of speech. Everything is "catch and release" unless you plan to eat them for lunch, bring them back for dinner, or take them for a possible world record.

After lunch, we fished the same area that the other two boats fished in the morning. Most of the time we fished toward the shore/banks. I caught two Peacock Bass and a Traíra this way. The Traíra somewhat resembles a Barracuda with the teeth to go along with it. They are aggressive fish and jump well out of the water when they hit the lure. They run about 18 - 20 inches in length.

I soon lost my second lure. Again it was the surface propeller type. I cast it toward a fallen log and managed to overshoot the log by about a foot. Before I had a chance to retrieve it, a Peacock hit it, took it down, and wrapped the line around a small tree. With a quick jerk it snapped the line. Ed paddled toward the log and saw the peacock. Since it was in a confined area, he attempted to net it. No luck; it passed right near me with the lure and swivel hanging from his mouth. I started to think that I really needed a heavier monofilament on my reel.

The high ground above the flooded area had been burned sometime in the past by the natives who then built their camps there. However when the high waters subsided, they found that they had to walk too far from the camp (hundreds of yards) to reach their dugouts. They soon abandoned their camp.

As we fished the banks, I saw an eagle settle on top of a tall dead tree a couple of times, but we couldn't get close enough to identify it. I think it was a Harpers Eagle.

Later, there was what I thought was a Peacock following my lure. It turned out to be a 3 foot caiman (South American crocodile.) He followed the green propeller surface lure right up to the boat. I quickly retrieved it from the water and held it above his reach. He kept looking at me and then the lure many times. He look like a puppy dog begging for food. Wherever I cast my lure, he would go after it. After about 10 minutes of playing with it, I took a photo and we moved further along the bank to fish. The caiman followed us for about 30 feet and decided the lure wasn't worth it.

We fished about an other 3/4 of an hour and I lost yet another lure to another Peacock that wrapped around a small tree and snapped the line. As we retraced our steps (or wakes), Maggie called out from behind me that my friend was back. Not being a quick study, I asked her what she meant and she motioned toward the caiman which was approaching the boat. I offered him a "new" lure but he didn't want it. He looked at me, then the lure and decided that it wasn't the tempting "green" thing I had earlier.

Apparently, this is very unusual behavior for this species of caiman because they are very shy. He was probably very hungry since it was near the end of the high water season. Food is scattered all over and is extremely hard to find.

That evening at happy hour, we had our first test of the dining area tent's stability. A tropical storm hit us abruptly with severe winds and heavy rains pounding us for about 45 minutes. At times the rain blew horizontally across the whole dining area. The tent held up perfectly.

Day 4, Friday, October 20

We traveled up the river about one hour and our first stop was the old man's camp. In addition to my desire to meet him, Maggie and Maury also expressed interest in him. We climbed the hill and met Aristev Gomes Da Silva. He is 71 years old and has been living at this camp for 40 years. He gave us a tour of his farm and, with Maggie's help, introduced us to some unusual fruits. He showed us what cashew nuts look like prior to picking and roasting. This plant, name unknown, is used to season and color food similar to the way we use saffron. It was interesting to see how he grew his onions in an old dugout canoe.

We were introduced to manioc which is their source of "flour." It grows as a large tuber that is dug like a potato. It must be processed before it can be used safely. The first step is to press it to rid it of its toxic juices. The mash is then slightly toasted to dry it and then is ground to the consistency of flour.

I tasted a very sweet fruit the size and color of a Golden Delicious apple. It had the consistency of pudding. Unfortunately I didn't take any photos of it. Aristev grows huge bananas, as well as the small sweet ones. The banana plants also grow to a formidable size. There are pineapples growing all over. When fully ripe, they are very gold in color and delicious.

He had another fruit that we also encountered at several abandoned camps. This fruit had a long pod which, when twisted, broke open to exposed black beans and a white "cotton candy" textured flesh surrounding the bean. It was very tasty and sweet.

We said our goodbyes and descended the hill to our boats just in time for the other two boats to catch up to us. We sat around for a few minutes to let all guides know where each of us would be fishing.

We continued to travel up the river and spotted a school of Pink Dolphin. We saw them several times during our stay. I tried to take photos of them many times, but we were too far away and when they did surface, my reaction time was too slow. Marcus said that they are the mortal enemy of the big Peacock Bass. The Peacocks cannot outswim the Dolphin.

Our boat and Maggie and Maury's turned out of the Caurés River to go through an old river bed in an attempt to reach some remote lakes. We dodged several fallen trees and, as we progressed, found a very peaceful setting. This waterway opened onto a lake which we crossed. Ed found a possible waterway to another lake. The path started closing in and Ed very quickly had to hack his way through the jungle. At one point he got into the water to pull the boat through the brush, using his machete all the way. At times the guides had to maneuver the boats back and forth between larger trees to make progress. All in all it took the better part of an hour to get to the point where it opened up to the final destination. Ed had visited this lake when he was a boy. Judging from the effort it took to get there, I'm guessing we were the first to visit it in a long time.

I really enjoyed this trip through the forest. Watching the sun's rays filter through the trees was fascinating. It was very serene. When the rays hit the shallow water, I could see hundreds of small fish (1-2 inches) swimming near the boat. It was easy to understand why the larger fish would follow the small fish, and they in turn, would be prey to the larger ones. We were warned not to touch a moss type fungus that grew on some of the tree trunks. The consequences of contact would be like being infected with poison ivy with the itch lasting for about a week.

As we approached the lake, I could hear numerous fish hitting their prey. At times schools of small bait fish skimmed over the surface, propelling themselves with their tails, trying to escape from the big ones. This was going to be easy, yes? No. We must have spooked them even though we entered the lake very quietly. I fished for about an hour with no luck.

We found some high ground along the shore where we could eat lunch. While we ate, Ed set up the hammocks. After lunch I went to my hammock and I watched Maury casting from his boat. He told me that they caught all their fish (quite a few) that morning on sub-surface blue and white lures. I could see that he knew how to fish these waters. He had a good supply of lures. He and Maggie fished with level line casting reels. As I mentioned before, Maury is an avid fisherman and usually fishes at least one day every weekend. Maggie never fishes. This trip was their 25^th anniversary vacation and Maggie was determined to learn how to fish. I watched her cast over the next few days and she got good at it. It looked as if she had been doing it for a long time and I could see that Maury was soon going to have a fishing "buddy" on weekends.

After my siesta, I tried a blue Repala (sub-surface) but with no luck. Then I put on a blue and silver Rat-L-Trap, one which I had had good luck with in Venezuela 10 years ago. I immediately got a strike and pulled in a 2-3 pound Butterfly Peacock. For a small fish, it put up a fantastic fight.

We worked our way back through the jungle (I stayed in the boat). It went much faster in this direction. As we approached the first lake, Ed motioned for to me cast my lure into the cove ahead of us. I did so and "wham!" something big came out of the water. I had it on for a few minutes and then lost it. I cast again and got another hit. It jumped out of the water and, again, I lost it. Ed said that they were Payara (Cachorras). Both were about 20-24 inches long. I caught a few of these before when I fished in Venezuela. They are savage looking fish with sabertooth type teeth. You surely do not want to be in the water with them.

I had one more hit in this area and it turned out to be a bass type fish (I forgot its name) which ran in deep water. Ed gestured to me that we should take it back to camp to eat. For happy hour, the cook, prepared my fish to be eaten like sushi. Maggie, who said she'd never had it, loved it. I think she ate most of it by herself. Even though I love sushi, I did not try it because I have reservations about eating any raw fish coming from fresh water. If they had pickled it, I might have tried it.

Day 5, Saturday, October 21

The next day Maggie opted to stay at camp to do a little reading, so Maury came with Ed and me in our boat. I was happy to be able to observe a "pro" in his own domain and, hopefully, to get a couple of tips. We traveled up the river for half an hour and fished all morning with no luck. I was beginning to think that I was a jinx. We caught nothing. We came back to the camp for lunch and then headed south and fished a burned out area. Here we had better luck. We fished along the banks and got many hits. I hooked into a large one and, again, I lost him when he ran around a tree and snapped the line. Again, I lost a lure with a swivel. I was concerned because I was running out of swivels. Maury to the rescue. He gave me a batch which lasted the rest of the trip. All of the lures which I lost had actually been on fish. At times, all of us cast our lines into the trees and brush, but the guides would climb the tree, and retrieve them. It was amazing how and where Ed climbed and I wish that I had taken a picture of him in action. All the guides did this for the fishermen.

I ended up catching two Butterfly Peacocks and one Traíra for that afternoon and Maury caught nine.

Day 6, Sunday, October 22

Some of the Philadelphia veterans who fished another area in previous years felt that the fishing was far from what they experienced before. They wanted to try the larger Rio Negro so Marcus decided to go down the Rio Caurés with us. He traveled with Ed and me and it should have taken about 45 minute to get there. Just before we reached the Rio Negro, we spotted the Lady Joyce moored along the bank. Marcus started asking the people on board a few questions and became very agitated. There was a lot of hand waving and shouting.

What happened at the Lady Joyce? Well, it seems that Marcus sent the boat down river the previous day to pick up some supplies at a small community. They tethered a small aluminum fishing boat behind the Lady Joyce. I believe the water was too shallow for the Lady Joyce to approach the dock, so they sent the small boat to pick up the supplies. The two men who stayed on the Lady Joyce were to fish and wait for the supplies to be loaded and return. He never returned. They "lost" him. This is why Marcus was agitated. The large boat could not go to look for him because of the shallow water and they had no small boat.

We continued on to the Rio Negro and all 4 boats fished along its banks. Nobody had any hits. Marcus and Ed decided to take me on a parallel channel of the Rio Negro. We traveled through a waterway that looked as if it would connect to another channel. About a half mile in the direction of the current, that stream started to vanish into the jungle. We could not go any further so we returned to the main channel.

Marcus decided to check the community for the missing boat. Maury's boat and ours headed in that direction and there it was, full of supplies. The operator had returned to the designated meeting place and waited until it started getting dark. He decided to return to the community for the night and had no fuel to continue the search the next morning. When Ed started loading some of our fuel into his boat, I realized that the operator wasn't alone; he had a lady friend. I indicated to her that I wished to take her picture. She was somewhat embarrassed, but her friend (who's name eludes me) convinced her to let me take her picture. I was told that her name was Andria and she was 14 years old.

This community has a small school and some sort of supply depot. I know that the supplies that Marcus picked up were delivered by another supply boat going up the Rio Negro. Someone in the community met this boat and transferred the supplies to the community depot.

During the brief visit, I noticed that a large tree near the buildings had about 30-50 hanging nests. I was told that they were mockingbirds (black and yellow in color) and they normally build near bee hives to discourage the monkeys from raiding their nets.

Marcus left with the newly found boat, hitched it up to the Lady Joyce and traveled back to camp. As we were leaving the community, we met the other two fishing boats and continued back up the Rio Caurés. We ate lunch and fished the burned out area that we had fished previously. I caught one Butterfly and one Traíra. We left the area about 2:00 because of heavy rains and traveled back to the camp. I went back to my room and was in "never-never land" for about a one hour siesta.

The other two boats fished well into the afternoon since they did not encounter much rain. They were back at the camp at 5:00 p.m.

After diner that evening, there was a surprise birthday party (with cake and all) for Harold. He is the one, smiling, at the head of the table. Marcus fed us pitchers of a drink made with some Brazilian liquor and local fruits. (I believe he called it Caipirinha which is a traditional Brazilian drink prepared with cachaça and lime) They were similar to Margaritas. Very good......too good.!

I wish I had had a tape recorder that night. Since Harold is from a southern state, the Philadelphia group (all good friends of his) referred to him as "The Red Neck." Well, even though she spent some time in the USA, Maggie didn't quite understand what a "red neck" was. Harold proceeded to give his interpretation of what that implied and couldn't finish a sentence without the rest of us laughing uncontrollably. She still couldn't understand why he was being picked on, so I asked her if they have any "dumb blond" jokes in Brazil? "Ah," she said, "I now understand." You had to be there.

Day 7, Monday October 23

Because I wasn't catching nearly what he thought I should be, Marcus became my partner for the day, to show me what, if anything, I could do to improve my luck. We went up the river (Rio Caurés) about 40 miles to where he had had excellent results the previous season. While traveling, I used the time to replace my 14 pound test monofilament line with a 17 pound test line. This would give me a better edge if I managed to hook into something larger. Marcus brought all of his lures for both of us to use. Maggie and Maury decided that the run up the river was to long and they stayed behind to fish down the river.

When we reached our destination, I watched him cast and retrieve several surface propeller lures. I used the same type, and after fishing for about a hour, neither of us had any strikes.

I replaced my lure with a beige sub surface propeller lure. We were fishing in a cove of a small lake. Marcus was casting toward the shore and I tried my luck in the middle of the cove. I got a strong hit and landed a Butterfly which weighed about two pounds. After a few more casts I hooked into one I knew I would have a problem landing. It ran deep and never came to the surface to jump. I did land it - - grande Peacock. Since Marcus loaned his digital scale to Harold and Tom, and my scale only went up to 8 pounds, I could not weigh the fish. Marcus estimated that it was between 13-15 pounds, while Ed thought it was closer to13 pounds. I released it, not knowing the exact weight. As soon as we released it, Harold and Tom showed up with the scale.

Soon after the release Ed motioned in the direction of the bow where an otherwise mirror like surface had small ripples in a circular area of 1-2 yards. Marcus said that they were baby Peacock Bass feeding at the surface and were guarded by the male. He would not eat during this time until the young grew up. Is it possible that I had just caught and released the female of the pair? They apparently breed 3 - 4 times a year. I caught one more bass in another similar cove, a Butterfly estimated at 2 pounds. All were caught on the same lure.

It was well past noon and we headed back down the river to meet up with the Lady Joyce where we had lunch. Since we had traveled up the river so far, the fishing boats had to fill up with fuel so we could make it back to camp. Of course we rested in the hammocks, had discussions with the guides (Marcus translating for us) and got a little sleep.

The guides seemed to be very interested in Harold's charter business. They were amazed at the size of his boat (I think he said it was 42 feet) and what he fished for off the Outer Banks near North Carolina. They had mentioned that Bill Pittock (with the white beard) was referred to as "Papa Noel" by the natives in the area he fished the previous two years. Bill always brought bags of candies with him to give to the native children. On this trip he saw no children. (He didn't go to the community near the Rio Negro where I saw about a dozen children.)

They talked about how young we all looked for our ages. They all stated their ages with Ed being the oldest at 29 years. I don't know what the life expectancy of these people is but I don't think it can be too long. They spoke about Aristev Gomes Da Silva being 71 years old and told us that he was an uncle of one of the guides. This is old for a local. I do wish that I knew Portuguese and so I could have learned more of their customs and lifestyles.

Marcus stayed with the Lady Joyce and Ed and I fished most of the afternoon with no luck. We made it back to the boat as it was starting to get dark. I was getting a little anxious being so far from camp with no daylight.

Again, not to worry. Marcus got into the boat and the three boats started traveling down the river at top speed (25 knots) with us trailing the other two. Ed had the only spotlight that was fully charged. For the next hour and a quarter I witnessed the most spectacular navigation without any visual or electronic aides. The first boat had a hand held flashlight, the second boat had a spotlight run with a discharged battery and we, in the last boat, had a spotlight with a partial charge in the battery .We could not see a hundred feet in front of us. The procedure was for the first boat to flash its light momentarily to let the next boat in line see where it was. The second boat would do the same. It had the weak battery and, therefore, could hardly be seen. Ed, in the last boat shone the light for a few brief seconds in front of the first boat to let them see where they were. At times they slowed down so that we could travel through flooded brush in order to access a shortcut and bypass some of the winding river. At the end of the trip, I complemented them on the fantastic job they did. Harold said that he has been navigating the oceans and inlets for over 25 years and never saw anything like it.

On the trip back, the number of birds and bats we saw feeding on the insects was impressive. Nighthawks were everywhere. They would be interesting to observe some evening. The insects were out in full force and eye glasses were beneficial. Every few seconds I felt some insect hit my face as we traveled at a speed of 25 miles per hour.

That evening after dinner the staff had a surprise birthday party for Maggie. We all got together and had group pictures taken. Again, the local libations were plentiful.

Day 8, Tuesday, October 24

We traveled up the river again but this was a mistake. The guides misunderstood us and thought that we wanted to fish this area again when, in reality, we wanted to fish down river in the burned out areas. Fishing was very slow. I caught a fish while trolling slowly down the river that looked similar to a Piranha but was silver in color. Ed kept it to take back to the camp for food. We found a high spot along the banks and had lunch. After our siesta (2:30) we headed down river, stopped at the camp to drop off the fish and proceeded to the burned out areas.

I used this time to take a picture of some of the lures I used during the week. I caught at least one fish on each one, the only exception being the left most vertical, green, yellow and red one. Bill Pittock used this one almost exclusively had great luck with it.

I had lots of action, but couldn't hold any fish on the line. I had more than the usual number of lures hung up in the trees. Each time Ed would climb the tree and untie the line to retrieve the lure so I didn't lose a single one. The other boats all seemed to have good luck that afternoon and we all headed back to the camp.

On many of our return trips, we viewed spectacular sunsets. One time when the sky was really brilliant, I took out my camera and snapped a photo. However, from the time I decided to take the picture to the time it was actually taken, the sun began to set behind the trees and half of the effect was lost. Still a beautiful sight!

That evening the cook served the "Piranha look alike " as sushi for an appetizer. Again Maggie couldn't resist the fish. She loved it. For dinner one of her Peacocks was served.

Day 9, Wednesday, October 25

This was our last day of fishing and all the boats headed back down river to where we were the previous day. Maggie and Maury in our companion boat managed to do fairly well in the morning. I caught three Traíras and four Butterfly Bass, three of them in the last half hour of fishing. By mid-afternoon I was getting a bit frustrated at not catching anything, so I asked Ed to troll along the brush/woods. I had my line out about 50 feet and was very relaxed, when something hit the lure very hard. So hard, in fact, that it ripped the pole from my hand. The reel end of the pole landed in the boat while the mid section of the rod hit the boat engine. I reeled in the lure figuring that I must have snagged a tree stump. To my surprise I noticed some flesh and bone on the tip one of the triple hooks. There had been something huge on it and I should not have been sleeping on the job.

We continued fishing the area and at about 5:00, they started hitting as if there were no tomorrow; it sounded as if cannons were going off all over the place. I caught three Butterflies ranging from 2 - 4 pounds. It was getting a little late and so we headed back to a rendezvous area and met up with Maggie and Maury. They wondered why we did not answer their calls. They each caught 25 fish in this one area and wanted us to join them. They said that it was unreal the way the fish were hitting. Neither Ed nor I heard them calling. We headed back to camp.

After dinner that evening, we presented Harold was with the pool money ($140) for the biggest fish caught. His bass weighed over 10 pounds. Since we didn't have a scale to weigh my Peacock (which was estimated at 13 pounds), I couldn't claim the pool.

After we came home, I sent Harold a photo of the fish via E-mail and he replied that mine was definitely larger than his.

Day 10, Thursday, October 26

The float plane was supposed to fly into the camp at about 8:00 A.M., drop off a group of fishermen, and fly us back to Manaus. After waiting 3 hours and still no plane, Marcus fueled up a boat and headed to the nearest radio (2 hours of travel) to contact his wife who would know if there was any problem. There was absolutely no way to communicate by phone from the camp. Marcus had purchased a "Tel Star" cellular phone but it would not be activated until November 1.

Five hours late, the plane landed and the new fishermen disembarked. All of them were Brazilians coming from various regions and one of their planes had arrived late in Manaus. We boarded quickly and were soon airborne. There was very good visibility and it was on this flight that I took the aerial photos referenced in this narrative.

Since we were 5 hours late in getting to Manaus, we could not go on the scheduled tour of the city or have the special luncheon. Some of the guys who had done this before said it was great. We went through customs and returned a "statement of entry" that was given us upon arrival in Brazil for presentation at departure. We all went through without incident except for Harold, who had put the form in his carry-on and had decided at the last minute to check it through as baggage. With a bit of grief, he got through customs but will now have to pay $150 the next time he comes to Brazil. We waited about half an hour at the airport before boarding the plane and then left on schedule.

We had a somewhat nondescript meal on the plane and I tried some Chilean red wine. Since I didn't have any clean shirts left, I was very careful not spill any of it on my white shirt. I need not have bothered, as a glass full of red wine came flying from the seat in front of me, liberally splashing my shirt and light tan trousers. A beautiful burgundy. The man in front on me had the glass in hand and his very young daughter kicked it with such force that it cleared the seat, spilling the wine on me. No "sorry" or any acknowledgment that it even happened. I went to wash room and cleaned up with limited success. I was a bit perturbed traveling in my pink outfit. We arrived in Miami a little after 10:30 P.M. It was not an enjoyable flight.

In Miami we passed through customs uneventfully and started to walk back to the airport hotel. I was on a people mover holding on to the railing when I felt something sticky.....lots of grease. I called back to the other guys but, too late. One of the guys was leaning up against it and had grease all over his pants seat. Great! What else was going to happen? Aside from being ripped off (less then a bargain rate at the hotel), the rest of the day was uneventful. What a hell of a way to end such a great trip.

Friday, October 27

The next morning we ate a good breakfast at the hotel dining room, said our goodbyes and headed to our respective flights. My wife, Helen, met me at the Bradley airport about 2:00 P.M. and it was back to reality.

If you have any questions, please E-Mail me at:

ghw@psofconn.com