Wednesday October 3rd, 2001
1100 hrs: The higher land to starboard is in contrast to the marshy ground that began the day. 200 metre high escarpments flank the northern side of the river. There are a number of jungle-clad volcanic cones rising amongst them. This was obviously once an area of great upheaval in days long forgotten.
Maybe
similar days are returning - but not for reasons of volcanic activity.
Maybe
the more “modern thinking” of utilisation of resources will have an effect on
this landscape and this very special environment - special and vital to life of
nearly every living thing on this planet of ours - that will be remembered far
longer down into history than the comparatively minor effects of some volcanic
eruptions and land upheavals of yesteryear. The new scars will probably never
heal.
The
river here is between 2 and 3 miles wide, and up to 60 metres deep. This is the
biggest river on our planet.
We are
plugging away into the river current - running against us at 2 to 3 knots.
Yesterday evening it reached 5 knots at times, slowing our progress
considerably - but this was of course not unexpected. We will be against the flow
of the river for the next few weeks - until we reach our goal at the head of
the Rio Negro. But that is still too far away to contemplate today.
It
rained heavily for a time last night, with quite strong gusts of cooler wind
and the attendant lightning; not just simple sheet lightning playing amongst
the clouds here, but frantic, explosive, tropical lightning that is better than
any fourth of July display. It forked, split into many fingers - somewhat like
the plan of this great river we are on. It arched, cracked, strobed orange or
white, zipped horizontally through the clouds or down onto the land, and was
just plain good to watch and try to understand. This was Nature at one of its
peaks, of which there are many. Some we are discovering on an almost daily
basis.
Those
crew sleeping in hammocks came below while it rained, but the air was
considerably cooler an hour or so afterwards when the moon reappeared and the
sky returned to normal.
There
has been much less river traffic today - a few of the heavily laden log barges
heading east (Amazonian logging trucks, as they are referred to onboard ) and
one sailing canoe with a couple of fishermen wanting to sell us a fish.
Rob and
Janot are working on Seamaster’s electrics trying to find a fault in the generator
extract fan. It’s hot work in the engine spaces.
They
spent the middle of the night between the main engines, whilst we were at
anchor, sealing up a leaking water pipe with some epoxy putty. Their own liquid
intakes have gone up considerably.
I am
sitting at the on-deck scrabble table, with my floppy hat on, writing this on
an A4 lined pad. (The first Amazon scrabble game was a personal disaster for
me, a triumph for Geoff - but there is always tomorrow!!)
It’s
presently 34 deg C in the shade in the breeze - as soon as the cross-deck
breeze fades, though, the temperature quickly gets to 37.
Some of
the crew are in their hammocks with books.
John is
finishing off The Hobbit by Tolkien.
Rodger
is contemplating life, having just read “the Alchemist”, by Paulo Coelho - a
great read that really inspires you to follow your dreams. I recommend it to
anyone of almost any age.
Alistair
is on watch in a chair near the bow but in the shade of the awning.
Franck
is sitting next to him, but clicking away with his big Nikon digital much of
the time.
Charlie
and Robin have found a “home’ on top of the boom above the covers - for a
while.
Leon is
working on the filming ideas.
Ollie
has been cleaning up the underwater housings and cameras for the time ahead.
Marc
has just completed the organising of the film permits - so necessary to be
correctly lodged.
Both
Marc and Ollie have also been getting the dive equipment ready for our first
Amazon dive - hopefully during our time in the Rio Tapajos near Santarem - a
clear river with much wildlife - or so we are told.
We have
some very lightweight Scubapro 0.5mm Silverskin steamer suits, specially
developed for our Seamaster crew - me included. Although what I will think if I
come face to face with a caiman, or piranha, or electric eel, or worse, I am
not sure.
We have
been advised to make sure that we have no “openings” available for the very
small “toothpick fish” to enter. This means ears, eyes, nostrils, mouth - as
well as both those below the belt. You can use your imagination for these.
Paulo
has the lunch underway on the deck stove - breakfast today was one of the best
yet!
Jose’,
who doesn’t speak English - is communicating with Don and Geoff, who are on
watch in the pilot house, liaising with Ali on the bow through the VHF radio.
Rob and
Geoff both had their hair cut this morning - by Paulo, and Alistair says he has
an appointment for dreadlocks this afternoon.
Geoff
is “the washerwoman” according to Paulo - and does the crew’s laundry every
day. But if you don’t have your clothing named, it is not returned.
Don has
his camera near to hand all of the time, to get the photos for the Log. We hope
that you like what you see. Remember that the photos were taken within the past
few hours - not days ago.
They
were put into the Log format - along with this text - and sent directly to our
blakexpeditions web site - via an Inmarsat satellite. The satellite we are
using at the moment is in space approx 26 thousand miles overhead the Amazon,
i.e. right above us.
From
the time we hit the transmit key, only a few minutes elapse before the log is
available on the web - and you have been sent the teaser e-mail - if you have
logged on as a member of eexplorers club. This is free to anyone who would like
to join and guarantees you updates as soon as they happen.
By
actually being here onboard our own vessel, travelling up-river at our own
pace, stopping where and when we want, means that we start to appreciate the
Amazon as it should be appreciated. Having time to look and listen and smell and
feel is a luxury that we wouldn’t want to go without.
Exploring
today may be very different to those pioneers of centuries ago - who had little
knowledge of their surroundings when they first arrived. The crews of the first
sailing ships that made it the 1000 miles up-river to Manaus must have had
extraordinary resilience - no charts, no navigational aids, no phone calls home
when it all went wrong, few medicines - and many of course didn’t make it.
Today
we are in a polar class vessel - designed for the cold climates of the world
but now adjusted to suit the hot, with basic accommodation, but with the latest
in medical knowledge, navigational aids, communications – and so on.
The
explorers of old would be away from home for sometimes many years before being
able to report their findings.
In 10
minutes or so, we can communicate with the world - with text and high quality
digital colour photographs.
So,
this is life onboard Seamaster - very different to our time in Antarctica
earlier in the year.
But
nonetheless just as fascinating.
We look
forward to the wonders of tomorrow.
Kind
regards,
Peter
and Crew.
Seamaster.