Collecting Fish in the Brazilian Amazon
by Vinny Kutty
From Vinny's web site "Mostly Cichlids"
Aquarticles
It is a humbling experience, and surely a healthy one, to enter a landscape that
man has not been able to alter, to dominate, to twist to his own purposes. - Marston
Bates/ WHERE WINTER NEVER COMES
Birth of an Idea
It began decades ago. It was during my early years in the tropical fish hobby. I'd see
these marvelous, brightly colored fish in pet shops and in the tanks of other aquarists.
They went by names like Tetras and Angelfish, beautiful creatures from far away land. Not
yet a teenager, but already living in Africa with my parents, I'd had a taste of travel
and cross-cultural experiences, traits that would later define my adulthood. Some of my
fondest memories are of me sitting on a rock by a riverside pool, in the Niger Delta area
of Nigeria, watching the fish swim below and the birds fly above. I'd sit for hours on the
rock, oblivious of the equatorial sun beating down on my shirtless back. There is endless
joy in nature, brief glimpses of which can be had for Tampa Bay residents in lush forested
parks like Lettuce Lake Park on the Hillsborough River. Florida wilderness is the closest
thing us Americans can get to African and Amazonian rainforests. So, having harbored an
intense bond with tropical aquatic life, it was only a matter of time before I visited the
ultimate in habitats - the mighty Amazon basin.
As a subscriber to Tropical Fish Hobbyist magazine in the 80s, I'd sit and read Heiko
Bleher articles about adventures and collecting over and over again. I'd fantasize about
running around in the woods and streams of the Amazon, like Heiko, except not in my
Speedos. Enjoying the aquarium hobby is, for me, only a tease compared to the real joy of
observing aquatic life in the wild. I knew I was going to visit the Amazon someday, but
just didn't know when. In 1994, Jeff Cardwell, a friend and a Tetra-sponsored speaker,
visited Tampa to give a lecture on his adventures in the Amazon, collecting tropical fish.
Jeff visits the Amazon on a yearly basis. After listening to his talk, I decided to go
with him on one of his trips. Then came reality. How much was it going to cost me? When
can I take two weeks off work? The hows, whens and wheres bothered me for a while, but I
decided to go. I see Jeff every year at the American Cichlid Assoc. conventions and the
next time I saw him, I said to him. I wanna go to the Amazon with you, I don't care about
bothersome details, all I know is I'm going to the Amazon! And I did. The following is a
rather detailed journal of my trip to the Amazon, specifically to Rio Uatuma and Rio
Jatapu in central Amazon, in the Brazilian State of Amazonas.
Preparation
I'd been thinking about the trip everyday for about a year. The closer the trip got,
the more I obsessed about it. It meant so much to me that I must have sounded like a
first-time mother, constantly talking about her baby. I certainly had something to say
when people asked me What's new with you? I talked so much about it that now, my dental
hygienist and my chiropractor insist on my bringing in pictures from the trip. I stopped
short of yakking to the checkout girls at the grocery store about my trip. I swear people
at work were avoiding me. People had polar reactions to the idea - they either belonged to
the I'm-jealous-I-wish-I-could-go or to the What-are-you? -A-lunatic? schools of thought.
My parents, being globetrotters themselves, were very supportive, except I sensed some
nervousness in my mother's voice the day before I left. My dad called it field work ; a
term often used in his profession - aquaculture. It certainly was fieldwork because I
brought back a lot of water measurements like pH, conductivity, temperature etc.
Jeff was the leader of the trip and he organized everything. This was fine with me, as
I just wanted to have a good time. We'd initially planned on going to Rio Tefe in remote
western Amazon, near the Peruvian border but that would have involved a domestic flight
within Brazil, from Manaus to the little town of Tefe. This would have made the trip
shorter and more expensive, regardless of the size of the group traveling. Fortunately,
this decision was made for us when one by one, individuals who'd originally showed
interest in going, cancelled their plans. So, a location closer to Manaus was chosen for
exploration. Jeff arranged the flight tickets, travel in Brazil (both bus and boat) and
the meals while on the boat. All this came up to about $2000. Of course, we were
responsible for all the gear, immunizations and getting ourselves to Miami before the
international flight. If you decide to go, you'll need the following: sunscreen, wide-brim
hat, a wear-n-give-away T-shirt for everyday there, swim trunks, wading shoes, hiking
boots, insect repellent, first-aid kit, flash light, large dip-nets for fishing, plastic
bags to ship fish back in, 100-quart coolers to hold and ship fish back in, duct tape,
camera and photo equipment, snacks (chocolates melt!) and of course, your passport and
proof of Yellow Fever immunizations. You'll probably get what fellow traveler Fred Krauss
described as "soup ass" after eating and drinking some things down there, so
pack some Immodium-AD or the like.
As far as immunizations, the only one you must have is a Yellow Fever shot - I believe
one shot is effective for ten years. I also got a Tetanus booster and a shot for Hepatitis
B. Hepatitis B requires two shots with a 6-month interval or so between shots. The first
one gives you 85% immunity to the mosquito-transmitted disease and the second improves it
to over 95%. I took a gamble on 85%. I also asked my doctor for a prescription for Malaria
pills. Total cost of immunizations was about $250 - stiff but most of them are a one time
expense.
It was now time to get ready, get all the gear purchased and wait. The few days before
the trip seemed like a waste of time, like waiting for your doctor in that boring little
room. I was at time's mercy. All I could do was get a few 55-gal tanks ready to receive
all the fish I could bring back. I knew I was going to be in Blackwater rivers, a kind of
water found in the Amazon with no discernable hardness and a very acidic pH. So, I
borrowed Darin Gasperson's Reverse Osmosis unit and went about making blackwater at home.
I first filled the tanks up with pure R.O. water and then added Tetra Blackwater Extract
and drops of very dilute sulfuric acid to get the pH down to about 5.0.
I'd mail ordered a 12-foot seine and a 6-foot radius cast net for collecting, through
the Florida Tropical Fish Farmers Assoc. (FTFFA) and had to learn the art of castnetting.
I practiced casting on my lawn outside my apartment. To cast a net in a perfect circle,
you need to bite down on the outer perimeter of the net and using both hands and twisting
at the waist, cast it at a 45 angle. Of course, you release your bite on the net as you
cast. On my very first cast, I was late releasing the bite, so the net cut my lip a bit
and there was blood around my mouth. A neighbor walked by eyeing me quizzically.
"Grass", I said to her "I'm catchin' grass". My neighbors don't talk
to me anymore.
Larium Trips
Mefloquine. It is the new drug of choice for tropical travelers for Malaria prevention.
Other quinine-based forms of anti-malarials that worked well while I was in Africa 15
years ago are apparently ineffective today. Enter Mefloquine. Reputed to be partially
effective at best and at $8 a pop, it was the best protection I had. I was instructed to
take a pill every week for two weeks prior to the trip, during the trip and for a few
weeks after the trip. Be close to a restroom, warned the pharmacist as she handed me the
prescription. No problemo, I thought, I got guts of steel.
I d taken two pills and the night before the journey, I took the third one. My stomach
had no problem handling it. I wanted to be rested, so I went to bed early. I lay in bed,
in semi-sleep and I began seeing images in my mind's eye. In the beginning, they were not
anything special, but after a few minutes, the images became clearer. I was having
visions. Wondrous, color-coordinated, dali-esque images. I saw no melted clocks but the
wild and surreal scenes were beautiful and frightening at the same time. I was enjoying
it. It was like being in a museum but I was in bed, trying to fall asleep. I'd have a
different image every ten seconds. Some of them were spectacular...a little too
spectacular for me to conjure up spontaneously. This lasted for almost thirty minutes and
then the images began to dim, until it stopped. I then became quite awake and alert. I
felt someone was going to burglarize my apartment while I was away. So, I jumped out of
bed, dressed up and drove to K-mart. I returned with three light bulb timers. After
hooking up all the lamps in the house to timers, I began worrying about Darin. Damn him!
He's a lazy bum and he's going to forget to pick me up to go to the airport tomorrow
morning. He's jealous of me. He doesn't want me to go because I'm living his dream. I knew
it! I'll just take a taxi to the airport. I fell asleep angry and paranoid. Darin knocked
on the door promptly as planned and happily drove me to the airport.
Something was wrong with me. I thought I'd enjoy this moment more, but I was tense and
irritable. I got on a little plane in Tampa and arrived at Miami. I sat at the Varig
(Brazilian airline) counter for three hours next to a burly guy, watching CNN's
round-the-clock coverage of Princess Di's death.
The burly guy might steal my coolers full of fish collecting stuff, I thought. Then,
burly guy turns to me with a warm smile and says, Are you going to Brazil with Jeff
Cardwell? Ah! He's one of us; he won't steal my things...or will he? Burly guy turned out
to be Paul Thoms of Carlyle, Illinois, going on his fifth trip to the Amazon.
I'd tried to call him the day before but his number was unlisted - his wife works in a
mental institution and they did not want paranoid people on medication calling them. How
paranoid of them, I thought. Sheesh!
So we went to lunch. While talking over lunch, Paul asked how I was doing with my
Malaria medication. "Fine..." I said. "Really? That thing does a number on
me...the last time I took it before our last trip to Brazil, I had all kinds of irrational
fears and paranoia...I thought my boss was going to fire me!"
Wait a minute...may be...nah...OH MY GOD!! It all made sense to me now. The Dali slide
show in my head, imaginary burglars, fear and anger towards friends...it all made sense.
"Yeah, Larium is psychotropic...messes with your mind." said Paul. I haven't
eaten another Larium since. I'm storing it for a rainy day when I feel like going to a
museum.
The Characters
The day finally arrived. It was September 1st, 1997. I'd waited a very long time for
this. As mentioned above, I wasn't enjoying the first leg of the trip. Of course, I met
Paul at the airport. Paul is a happy, content, incisor-challenged guy who knows the first
few verses to a million songs. And he sings them all. Some would consider him a teddy
bear. No matter how tough the jungle got, he always smiled and said, "Isn't this
great?" Soon, Bob and Laura Matthews, who were going with us on their honeymoon,
joined us. I am sure people who prefer malls to parks called their sanity into question
but they're not the kind to care. I'd known Laura for a few years, being a fellow
cichlidiot and photographer. It was going to be nice to catch up with her.
Fred Krauss, recovering from treatments for thyroid cancer, was able to make it. Fred
is an unpretentious guy with a heart of gold. He'd been deported from a few South American
countries for illegally entering and collecting fish in - he sports a braided mustache in
his passport photo. I bet he has a tattoo somewhere I care not to see. Fred's talent at
transporting and keeping fish alive is uncanny.
Steve Davis of Utah and Rob Schreiman of Chicago rounded out the fish people. Our two
surprise travelers were Veronica "Ronnie" DeNardo from Arlington, VA and Cathy
Hamlin from Atlanta. Ronnie just wanted to see the Amazon, having already been to places
like Africa. Cathy is a student of Tropical Ecology. She'd spent a year working in a Costa
Rican national forest park and wanted to experience the Amazon before going back to grad.
school. I'm glad they came along because a bunch of fish guys together would have
concentrated on fish and missed out on all the other marvels of the rain forest. Besides,
as I got to know them personally, they turned out to be wonderful human beings.
Just before the flight, we all went atop the Miami airport to have dinner. We ordered
fried alligator. I was afraid that was a harbinger of things to come. Varig was a decent
airline but we certainly didn t get to Manaus at a decent time. As the plane descended
towards the airport, I caught a glimmering reflection of the city lights on the Rio Negro.
WOW! We were greeted by Miguel Rocha da Silva and Eduardo aka Doo-doo. Miguel was the
Captain of the boat we were going to be on for the duration of the trip. Doo-doo, whose
photograph often appears in Tropical Fish Hobbyist magazine, was a friend of Jeff and some
of the others and was going to join us to help us catch fish. They had rented a bus for us
and we immediately got out of Manaus. It was 3 a.m. when we boarded the bus - the air was
still, humid and warm, the kind of climate that promotes the proliferation of life.
As the bus left sleeping Manaus, some of us fell back to sleep. The excitement was too
much to bear. I was wide awake at 5 a.m. and waiting for the sunrise. Cathy Hamlin was
sitting next to me, writing in her diary about everything that she saw. We were on the
only road in that part of the country, connecting Manaus to Itacotiara (pronounced
ee-ta-kwa-shah). Itacotiara is closer to Rio Jatapu and Uatuma and taking the bus there
would save us two days of river travel. By now, the sun was starting to rise and I could
discern silhouettes of incredibly tall trees along the road. The landscape and village
architecture was reminiscent of other isolated tropical areas in Africa and Asia. The
reality of it all started to dawn with the sun. Most of us were silenced by the seemingly
unending sprawl of dense jungle. Imagine the number and variety of creatures that lived
within a few feet of the bus.
I saw a creek and I wanted to beg the bus driver to stop, so I could begin collecting!
We finally stopped in a little village to get some breakfast the nocturnal insects and
creatures were in retreat and we ran around photographing some of the strange insects. Our
breakfast consisted of strong coffee and a few varieties of Manioc-based starchy pastries.
Just before we were about to board the bus, a troop of army trucks pulled up and spilled a
couple of dozen soldiers. Oh-oh! Images of military atrocities as seen on TV crossed my
mind. Our Brazilian counterparts assured us that the soldiers were there to fix the roads.
Hmmm. Now there's an idea ready for America.
The Amazon
After four hours, we finally reached Itacotiara and the banks of the Amazon, where out
boat was docked. It was a little town almost entirely dependent on the river and the
forest. It was only 10 a.m. and we were already drenched in sweat. But we didn't care - we
headed straight for the markets, to check out the fish for sale. It was a great photo
opportunity. Oscars, Peacock Basses, Pacus, Arowana and even the giant Pirarucu (Arapima
gigas). We finally walked the plank on to our boat, our home for the next week or so.
It was a 38-foot boat with three levels, bunk beds for each person, a kitchen and two
bathrooms. All in all, more than I expected.
Once the boat was moving, we were very comfortable in the breeze. Those of us who had
been to the Amazon before, didn't seem as excited as I was. We had a few hours to settle
down, have a few drinks, watch the river go by and get to know the crew. An hour or so
into the down river journey, we came upon a sight that put the actual size of the river in
perspective. Apparently, the banks that we were seeing were only islands. We then reached
a gap between the islands and were able to see the real banks the other bank was barely
visible! An hour before sunset, we arrived at the mouth of Rio Uatuma, a white water
river, small compared to the mighty Amazon. This is where I saw my first Pink River
Dolphin; they seem to relish fishing near the confluence of rivers. Although not as
acrobatic and curious as the Atlantic Bottlenose in Florida, these near-blind creatures
were just as interesting. The riverbanks were densely forested and a tree with large red
pods, called Mungubu fascinated me. We saw numerous Parrolets and Parakeets, Kingfishers,
Fish Eagles and a few Cara Caras and a large Toucan hopping from tree to tree. We were to
spend sometime collecting in this area before dark, so I knew we would anchor soon. And we
did, a few miles up the river, past the town of Itapiranga.
It was barely 30 seconds after we had stopped when we were all casting hooks and lines
into the water almost all if us instantly hooked Red Bellied Piranha! It was the very
first fish I ever caught in the Amazon. These juvenile Piranhas were so numerous and easy
to catch that we were quickly bored. So we left the boat and made our way to the banks
using a 16-foot motor boat. As we were about to make a landing and get into the water,
Steve Davis, who was still on the big boat, reeled in an 18 inch Black Piranha. We all
looked at each other nervously and hesitated a bit. The excitement of collecting fish in
the Amazon outweighed any fear, so I stepped out on to the bank. My leg immediately sank
knee-deep into the mud. So did the other leg. When I pulled the first leg out of the mud,
I found my shoe missing at the bottom of the leg hole. I reached my hand in and fetched my
shoes and took another step. Now my other shoe was missing, and I was only 3 feet away
from the boat! Was I ever going to catch any fish if I spent all my time retrieving my
lost shoes? Jeff Warned me not to walk around without shoes, so I fought with the mud till
we got to a little stream.
Mental note: next time, bring wading shoes with laces and tie them TIGHT!
The water was warm near the shores and cool at spots deeper in the stream. The stream
emptied a vast marsh that was treeless, possibly from deforestation for cattle grazing. We
could see hundreds of wading birds; some of them were quite upset by our presence but not
as much as the Howler Monkeys at the edge of the marsh, who protested our presence
audibly. The pH of the water was 6.3 with a conductivity of 70uS. As we caught fish,
mostly Characins and catfish, we bagged them and floated them near the shore, to be
retrieved on our way back to the boat. After we collected for almost an hour, we were
returning back to the boat and found that all our plastic bags that we d stored fish in
had been ransacked! There were circular holes in the bags and there were no fish to be
found in the bags. The Piranhas had sensed the distressed fish and bit through the bags to
get at the hapless fish. The Piranhas were absolutely merciless with the less than healthy
members of the aquatic kingdom. Only the healthy and robust specimens get to survive in
this habitat.
We were all still in the water while this was going on and none of us were hurt or bit
by Piranhas. We were, however, repeatedly warned by Miguel, our Captain and Jeff to
shuffle our feet as much as we could to scare off Stingrays - the real menace in the
water. We were soon in our little boat, headed out of the stream, when we decided to cast
net. After just one cast, we found it was easier to just sit and wait for the fish to jump
into the boat because that is just what they did. Schools of yellow and white striped Schizodon
schizodon leapt up 5 feet in the air and landed in the boat! How convenient! We
wanted some bait for catching catfish and possibly get some fish for dinner.
The Fish
Among the fish we caught there were:
Acaronia nassa (Basketmouth cichlid)
Aphyocharax albus
Farlowella acus
Sorubim lima (Shovelnose catfish)
Hoplias malabaricus (Wolf Fish)
Bumble bee cat
Hypoptopoma sp. (Giant Otocinclus)
Pygocentrus nattereri (Redbellied Piranha)
Serrasalmus rhombeus (Black Piranha)
Serrasalmus elongatus (Elongate Piranha)
Spotside Piranha
Triportheus albus (Yellow Hatchetfish)
Raphiodon vulpinis (Dog Fish)
Mesonauta cf. insignis
Cichlasoma cf. amazonarum
Apistogramma sp. regani complex
Geophagus cf. surinamensis
Laetacara curviceps
Phractocephalus hemioliopterus
Mylossoma sp. (Pacu-type)
Corydoras sp. Spotted
Triportheus sp.
Leporinus fasciatus
Unifasciatus Pencilfish
Crenicichla regani
Spotted Moenkhausia Tetra
Loricaria sp.
Charax gibbosus
Charax sp. Spotside
Leporinus cf. fredericki
Tetragonopterus argenteus
Carnegiella marthae
Lyretail Brown Pleco
Silver Spilurus Tetra
Laetacara curviceps
I am sure there were other fish that I could not identify or collect. This was
certainly one of the most productive fish collecting spots we encountered.
On our return to Manaus, we stopped here briefly and to our surprise, we caught a lot
of Crenicichla reticulata using cast nets. They were hiding in the Loricariid
caves (Pleco holes) along the mud banks and the vibration of the lead weights on the net
scared them out into the net and we caught up to 4 of these typically solitary fish per
cast. Some of the larger females were very colorful, with bright orange bands above the
lateral bands. This was such a rich habitat for fish and, unfortunately, mosquitoes as
well, so we were forced to get back in the boat and ride around for an hour during dusk
until the throngs of pests had dissipated. This is an expensive but effective way to avoid
mosquito bites. After 8 PM, mosquitoes are not as numerous as they are between 6:30 and 7
PM. Since handling live, sensitive fish is a priority, the use of mosquito repellents,
however well stocked we were, was not ideal.
After acclimation and a quick shower, we were served dinner we had a chef onboard and
were quite thankful about it. "Caboclas Delicias", said the plates. Caboclas are
the people who live by the river in the Amazon, they are of mixed ancestry, usually
Portuguese and native, and speak a Portuguese dialect. Rice, beans and catfish. Miguel
knew us well - he had stocked his ice chest with 500 cans of beer, all of which was
consumed by the end of the trip. Afraid of dehydration, I never had more than two a day.
This would point to Fred Krauss as the culprit since he seemed to be the happiest guy on
the trip.
We had luckily timed our trip a week or so after the full moon and as a result, we had
clear and dark skies to observe the stars. Having originated from highly light-polluted
areas of the United States, we were awestruck by the numbers of stars, their intensity and
grandeur. We spotted orbiting satellites, shooting stars and a heart-shaped constellation
that I dubbed Constellation Corazon.
The next morning, we anchored near the confluence of Uatuma and Jatapu. Rio Jatapu,
which became the focus of our attention for the next week, is a black water river that
originates in Northern Brazil and drains the forests. Rivers that drain the Andes are
typically white water; rivers that drain ancient rocky highlands are usually clear water
and those that empty forests are black water. After a breakfast of highly astringent
Cashew juice and toast, we began exploring a riverside lake with a pH of 5.4 and 10uS
conductivity. Here, I was able to observe numerous cichlids in their natural habitat,
interacting with each other and feeding. This is why I was in the Amazon - to observe
nature the way it was supposed to function. A few Acarichthys heckelli, Mesonauta
festivum and some Biotodoma cupido shared a few square feet of shallow
lakeside with clear, still water and lot of fallen tree logs. The water here was very
warm, about 90°F in the shallows and 88°F in deeper areas.
We also collected the following:
Fluviphylax pygmaeus
Crenicichla lugubris
Laetacara curviceps
Cichla intermedia
Cichla temensis
Heros severus
Hypselecara coryphaenoides
numerous Knifefishes
Hoplias malabaricus
Uaru amphiacanthoides
Crenicichla regani
Apistogramma agassizi
A. cf. regani
A. cf. meinkeni
A. cf. paucisquamis
Boulengerella maculata
Pinktail Chalceus
Geophagus cf. surinamensis
Satanoperca cf. jurupari
Satanoperca lilith
Satanoperca acuticeps
Acaronia nassa
Fluviphylax pygmaeus is a tiny livebearing fish that mimics surface air
bubbles with its eyes. This place is obviously a paradise for cichlidophiles. I wish I
could have stayed there for a year instead of a week.
The lake we fished in was fairly large and had a healthy population of Cichla
species. These large cichlids are pursuit predators and often chase schools of Hatchet
fishes to the surface and gulp a few. Being winged, Hatchet fishes all take to the air and
hover a foot or so above the water for a couple of seconds while beating their pectoral
fins rapidly. This unique escape mechanism is fascinating to watch and probably saves man
of them from being devoured by the chasing Cichla. The gape and suck of a Cichla
can be heard as a loud pop similar to the sound that Bass and Snook fisherman are familiar
with.
Black water areas a remarkably devoid of minerals and this reduces the diversity and
density of animal life compared to white water areas a little but the insects,
particularly a species of wasp and bees were the first to find a new source of minerals -
our sweat! At first when they began landing on me, I was quite nervous but they were not
interested in stinging, just my salts. They were using me as a salt lick and would not
take No for an answer. I complied and eventually began perversely enjoying my new friends.
My new friends were in for a feast as the daytime temperatures were usually above 100°F
with a humidity of about 85%, and we were all sweating profusely. It cooled down to a
balmy 85°F at night. Fortunately, black waters areas a free of mosquitoes at night. We
weren't that lucky after all, as there was a highly aggressive Night Wasp species that
stung most of us at least once.
The crew had caught a few very large Uaru amphiacanthoides which were dead by
the time we saw them. They were going to be our lunch. I had never eaten a South American
cichlid before. I'd eaten Tilapia but that doesn't count. So, I watched the crew descale
and fry a 12-inch Uaru! It was sad but we had to eat something. I must admit that it
tasted very good with rice and beans.
The next day, we woke up early to go Cichla fishing. That morning was so
peaceful and quiet that I wanted it to go on forever. On our way to a prime spot, we saw
some Spider Monkeys in the trees again, my first. The technique for Cichla
fishing was cast-far-and-reel-in. We caught a few this way but we also got a lot of Boulengerella
species.
That afternoon, we went to another lake, Lago Leandro, a riverside lake with white
sandy beaches. Perfect Surinamensoid habitat. I thought. I was right. That night,
we caught two species of Surinamensoids, one was about 5 times as common as the other was.
Of course, the rare one was the most brilliantly colored with a lot of red markings, even
on juveniles. There were thousands of large bats all over this area and a very loud tree
frog that we could hear a mile away. Jeff and I tracked down one of these and caught it to
take pictures it was quite large, almost the size of a toad, with a lime green color.
Sandy beaches are ideal spots for Stingrays, so we were very careful. Jeff saw a large
Stingray.
The next day, I would learn something fascinating about cichlid ecology: during the
heat of the midday, I took a nap while Jeff and the others were catching Taeniacara
candidi. Wanting to collect it, I set out at about 4 PM to collect some along the
lakeshore, but the fish fauna had changed like shift change at a factory. There were no Taeniacara
candidi at all to be found anywhere near the shore, which was apparently their
habitat during midday. Now, all we could catch were Laetacara curviceps, which
were relatively scarce during midday. Where did the Taeniacara go at dusk? If
they are not near the shore, where can they go to hide from large predatory catfish during
the night? Where were the curviceps during the midday? I would like to have
stayed there for a few more days to study this phenomena more thoroughly but we had to
move on to other sites. The next day, we saw a dead young river dolphin floating on the
river and two magnificent and rarely seen King Vultures waiting for us to leave before
they came down to feed. The common Black Vultures were already there at the carcass but
most vultures in the Amazon rely on the heavy beaks of King Vultures to help break through
the skin or hide. These are large birds with a read and yellow head and large black and
white wings that span more than 8 feet. It was truly impressive.
That day, we caught a few large Laetacara thayeri and a beautiful yellow tetra
that reminded me of the African Congo Tetra. Unfortunately, the tetra was impossible to
keep alive. That afternoon, some of the group, including all the women, went into the
jungle, exploring. They made a hasty retreat after they ran into fresh Jaguar tracks it
had just rained heavily an hour ago. We were almost 100 miles upriver now and were finally
beginning to see the wildlife. Constantly raucous parrots and Macaws were everywhere.
A dwarf pike cichlid (Crenicichla sp.) that I caught and thought was C.
regani, the commonly caught species, turned out to be C. notophthalmus! C.
notophthalmus was believed to be a Rio Negro endemic. What was it doing over 200
miles from its supposed habitat? I knew they were C. notophthalmus after 6 months
when the males developed long freestanding dorsal fin spines (only the first few spines.)
We also found many other fish that we thought were Rio Negro endemics there must be a
rainy season connection between the two rivers in its upper courses.
So, we came to the end of out collecting trip. We bagged our fish, put them in our
coolers and headed out to Manaus. We spent a day touring Prestige, a tropical fish
exporter. That was as much fun as collecting. We gathered a lot of fishes that we could
not have collected. Discus and Angels were hard to find. So were Oscars. The adult Angels
were $0.50 each and the Discus were $5 for any size or color. Healthy Cardinal Tetras
could be had by the thousands for mere pennies each. We rebagged our fish with oxygen and
got our export permits and were on our way to explore Manaus. Miguel was kind to invite us
to his house and use his pool to cool off. We ate dinner at a place where everything was
skewered and grilled - it is all-you-can-eat and the servers shave off little pieces of
everything onto your plate.
Having spent the last week on a boat, our equilibrium was off kilter. We all felt that
the restaurant and the airport were wobbly. The wobbliness stayed with me for more than a
week after returning home. It was sad to return home after such a wonderful trip but all
good things come to an end. We went down there as strangers but came back best of friends.
Most of our fish made it back alive and their progeny is being spread around the country.
It is just a matter of time before we all get together and do it again.
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