* Amazon River, Peru, January 8th - 18th
Mary Breckenridge and I had a week and a half of adventure in the Amazon backcountry of Peru where we had an opportunity to try our luck at fishing for piranha one afternoon. Our bait and tackle weren't extraordinarily high tech as you might expect: a hunk of beef on a rough huge barbed hook on a piece of thick nylon line that looked like clothesline, tied on to a de-barked branch. It was getting to "The Spot" that was the challenge.
Our motor-driven riverboat, piloted by a Riberanos guide and full of other avid North American fisherpeople like us, navigated the shallow tributary of the Amazon quite well. Or at least progress was steady until we reached a nearly impassable stretch packed with floating plants and wood debris, an annual by-product of the high water season caused by snow melt in the Andes mountains. The propeller soon was choked with stringy plant tissue, and the pilot again and again had to raise the motor, remove the debris, and then manage to inch the boat forward a few feet. Finally, some local village children, no doubt laughing at the plight of the boatload of "gringos", swam out into the stream and by shoving the plants and logs aside just ahead of the boat, cleared a way for us to get through the jam.
When we at last reached a shady (and unfortunately, mosquito-filled) stretch with overhanging trees and vines, our guides declared that we had reached "The Spot." Finally we cast our lines carefully into the dark muddy water and waited expectantly. Mary said "I didn't know about the others, but I was wondering just what I was going to do with a toothy piranha on my very short line with no net: just pitch it into the bottom of the boat and let it start nipping at everyone's ankles?" Things were very quiet, except for the usual jungle background sounds of croaking, buzzing, screeching, howling, booming, gurgling, splashing, and the ever-constant slapping at mosquitoes, when suddenly BAM!!! The first line was hit by a giant...wait...small...wait...tiny.... catfish. The proud fisherman hauled in his catch to the vast admiration of all. Then Mary, to her own immense satisfaction, felt a familiar tug on her line and hoisted into the boat...not the coveted piranha but an even smaller and very whiskery catfish. (In case there's doubt, her cries of glee carry just as well in the Amazon as they do over Crowley.)
So now, Mary has caught her not-so-giant and not-so-toothy fish. What to do? Of course she firmly believes in catch-and-release. Those of you who know her fearless nature on SCFF outings will be horrified to hear that she plaintively begged for help in getting the fish off the hook and back into the water. Our guide came to her rescue and the approximately 6 inch long fierce-looking catfish was tossed back into the muddy water, to threaten yet another tourist.
As the non-fisherperson who had been trying to birdwatch, I'd collapsed into hysterical laughter while trying to manage both binoculars and camera. However, I did manage to capture Mary's moment of triumph on film, for the enjoyment of club members. Stay tuned for future excellent fishing adventures from Sharon Hull and Mary Breckenridge. Sharon Hull