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Postscript: The Mad Dash To Iquitos!
"Whatever you do, don't touch the sides of the boat," Bincy yelled to me over the roar of the boat engine.
I can barely hear her. "What?" I yell back. "I don't understand."
We're in a wind tunnel of sorts, in a motorboat transport from the Tahuayo Lodge in the Amazon Jungle back to Iquitos, where we will catch our plane back to Lima.
"In case we are struck by lightning, you don't want to be touching anything on the boat," she clarified.
OMG. Is this for real?
How did we wind up in a torrential downpour of rain? The sky was blue and the day sunny when we left the lodge two hours earlier.
Now the wind is howling. The sky is dark. On the horizon we can see bolts of lightning and sheets of rain coming down.
The captain of our little watercraft accelerates the engine. He's trying to outrun the storm.
Bincy (aka Cynthia) is right: Traveling in a metal boat in a thunderstorm may be hazardous to your health. Now I'm doing the math. Let's see, the odds of getting struck by lightning are one in a million. The odds of surviving an event of this sort are much better. You just may not be playing with a full deck afterwards with an electrically fried brain.
I try not to think about it.
We're 45 minutes from Iquitos harbor and headed right into the storm. The wind and rain have picked up considerable velocity. Water is now spraying into the boat from either side. Our guide Natalie yells to us to pull down the canopy on the sides, which stops the water from coming in but blinds us from seeing out.
"Put on your life jackets," Natalie instructs us in her broken English.
Is this really happening?
This happens all the time, right? I glance back at our guides Natalie and Nellie for reassurance. Nellie is curled on the floor of the boat with her hands over her ears. Meanwhile Natalie is trying to see through the canopy to gauge our location and distance to port. Worry is all over their young faces.
Oh, no. This is NOT reassuring.
At the front of the boat, the captain is trying to see through the downpour to steer the boat. No windshield wipers. He's basically driving blind because the visibility is so poor.
"Can he see?" I yell to the other JUGS. Two seconds later I change my question to an exclamation. "Oh my God, he can't see!"
This wasn't irrational female fear speaking. We had entered the harbor. Other boats were on the water. Canoes. Freighters. Trawlers. Debris, in the form of floating logs, was everywhere. Occasionally, the captain sounds the horn. I'm not sure whether it's to warn others we're coming - or to urge them to get out of our way because we can't see them. Either way it's not good.
We are huddled together in two rows in the center of the boat. No casual JUGS conversation now. None of the usual levity and wisecracks. Two out of six of us can't swim. Yep THOSE kinds of images are going through our heads.
Thunder crackles. Lightning flashes. The rain accelerates.
Fifteen minutes to the dock. Fifteen minutes that feels like eternity.
Somehow the captain manages to steer the boat to the dock. God bless him.
Men appear out of nowhere to help us disembark. Inside the boat we scramble for our rain gear and ponchos. Two weeks of travel and we didn't have to use them once.
Between the Tahuayo office and us is a long, steep flight of 50 stairs. After the trek up the stairs leading to the Sun Gate, this should be a piece of cake. But the winds and sheets of rain shake our confidence. This is no time to fall and break our perfect record of no injuries.
One by one, we scramble out of the boat and up the stairs. In the dry confines of the Tahuayo offices we stand speechless, dripping puddles. Soaking wet and out of breathe, we're overcome with disbelief.
What a way to end our two-week adventure.
Without question, drama makes for good stories. A routine airport transfer turned into a wild ride gave us an insider's experience of weather in the Amazon.
As the moments pass, incredulous expressions turn into smiles and laughs.
"How are we going to top this?" says Nancy with a smirk.
Well, that, dear friends, is the new bar for the next JUGS adventure.
Stay tuned.
- comments
Janis You need to get your writng published Nancy. Fun and exciting story...but looks as if you'll need a vacation from the vacation! See u when u get to Vegas baby!
Nancy @Janis. Mary actually wrote the blog(s) I only got to live through them :) a vacation from the vacation always sounds good. Yes, see u in Vegas in a couple of weeks.
Mary (the author) Little Yamila, who never complained or winced even once during the entire trip, read this and quipped "well, this is good but it doesn't quite convey that we were scared to death." Maybe I did skip through the fear part a bit. Suffice it to say that it was the most "exciting" conclusion to a trip we've ever had -- and that's post script enough.