Searching for Caiman

Thursday, March 2, 2023

Night has fallen on the Amazon. The 30 passenger speedboat heads against the barge dock alongside the ship. Passengers step excitedly onboard.

The engines thrum as the water soars in a wall of water eight feet high on either side of the boat. We make rapid progress across the Rio Negro toward a nameless lake. We are searching for caiman.

The lights of the city of Manaus, Brazil, fade away as we leave civilization behind us. Darkness engulfs us.  The waves of the river ebb and the quietness of the lake surrounds us. There are islands of grasses as we slow. Tiny yellow lights bounce in the distance. Boats? Homes? We slide gently into a slip attached to a floating restaurant. There is a flurry of activity as we break up into smaller groups and go with our guides to our ten-person “canoes”. There are 5 benches across the small boat with a 4-inch plank on the edges. We are in the second seat.

As our ten and the spotter and the guide all take our places, I notice the little craft is sitting low in the water. The waterline is only 6-8 inches down. We take off quickly, the sound of the little motor pales in comparison to our giant speedboat. The spotter is standing on the front of the boat, only 5 feet ahead of us. He wears a headlamp, rapidly turning his head side-to-side, scanning for the shine of the caiman’s eyes in the dark. We tear through open water, slipping quickly through patches of grass.

I begin to wonder about my ability to read. The excursion is called Searching for Caiman. All day long people have been shivering with concern about our choice. Not for one moment was I concerned. Until now. Now I am thinking…ooooh, searching for caiman. I keep whispering to Keith that he should be holding on to a life jacket. The guide said if we hold a caiman do NOT drop it in the boat – that would be bad. Worse would be to fall into the water. The caiman in the water are MUCH bigger than any we would bring up to the boat. Keith cannot fall into the water. He will drown AND get eaten by a caiman. “Put your arm through the life jacket.”

Suddenly, the headlamp’s light starts flashing. It is a signal to the driver to follow the light. A caiman has been spotted. We slow, then plow straight into a forest of grass. In an instant, the spotter is on his belly, arms reaching to the side, and we watch in (terrified?) amazement as he scoops up a baby caiman. He shows off his prize – only about 18inches long. People are asking to photograph it, to hold it. I am thinking, “Yep, we searched. Put it back. It likes the water. Stop rocking the boat. We should go home now.”

The spotter has seen something else. We burst into the tall grass. It is surrounding us, rocking us. I am sure we are stuck. Keith points to the water on my side, “Look! There it is.” A four-footer is two feet away from me. The spotter makes a grab for it, but it slides away. He drops the baby in the process. The boat is rocking from all of that activity and I alone (I am sure) am the only one shifting and shifting my weight to keep the boat from capsizing. The engines revs and we don’t move. We are stuck in the grass.

The headlamp keeps searching as the engine revs and releases, revs and releases. Slowly, we reverse. We are back in open water. We pass shacks – corrugated metal and random boards making walls and ceilings. I see a man sitting at a table. Someone lives out here. Many someones live out here. The headlamp starts blinking. The spotter is on his belly again. He has another caiman. Instantly the women behind us ask to take pictures, to hold it. The spotter starts walking on the plank edge of the boat. He brings it to the women, and they take turns. I cannot figure out how to turn around to see the caiman while single handedly keeping the boat from overturning. There is a guy standing on the side of the boat!

The caiman goes from person to person. I tell Keith he should hold it – while maintaining a tight grasp on the life jacket. It takes me telling him three times he has to hold it before he is willing. I snap the POTD, while our guide comes up the edge of the boat. Keith hands him the little caiman and he starts teaching us. Caiman have no tongues, but do have a weird dealie in their mouths that only opens when they swallow, so no water gets into their tummies. They have regular eyelids for regular eyelid doing, but they also have translucent eyelids that come from the side that act like goggles when they are swimming underwater. Their tails have lots of meat, so if fishing is slim go for the tail for dinner. Their sides are malleable – good for making wallets and shoes.

Since I was closest to him, and to the caiman, he asked me to touch the soft skin. I did. It definitely was malleable. As I brought my hand back, his hand holding the back of the caiman released and the tail swiftly swished forward and hit my arm.

I screamed.

Let’s face it. There was never a moment that anyone who knows me didn’t think I was going to scream while searching for caiman. The lady behind me screamed. She said, “You scream. I scream.” The guide immediately had the caiman re-secured and all was well. I wasn’t even nervous. For some reason, the boat was balanced, even though there were two guys crouched on the side of it. I was looking at the caiman – just a foot in front of me – when the spotter reached out toward me and pointed at my phone, unnoticed sitting on the lap. There was a bug the size of my thumb walking along it.

I screamed.

The lady behind me screamed.

The spotter smiles at me and tried to make calming motions with his hands. I smiled. I did not know how to say I am always ridiculous in Portuguese, so I had to just leave it at a smile.

The caiman went back into the water. I balanced the boat while the guide and the spotter went to their spots. The engine revved and we were off.

Uh-oh. The spotter was spotting again. Whaaaaaat? Were we still searching? I thought we’d searched. We’d won the searching. What were we searching for now? Were we searching for bigger caiman? We passed a pretty big one. The headlamp went back and forth, checking the grassy edges. We went up a canal, and into another section of lake. There were lights over there…was that the floating restaurant? I think so. I whispered to Keith to hold onto the life jacket.

We pulled up to the dock. The guides were helping the older man in the front row off the boat. We waited. I balanced the boat. Keith asked me if he should get off. I hissed, “NO! Wait until they tell you.” We sat. The man was a little stuck. Keith pointed out that everyone else had gotten off and he stepped onto the dock. I scurried behind him.

That was great.

Earlier in the day there was also a jungle survival trek.  We survived, but we saw giant ants and a tarantula, learned the right way to go in a hammock, and much more.