October 19, 2007 El Castillo, Rio San Juan, Nicaragua

Today was a good day, even though we didn't catch any fish. Not for want of trying though. Nor was there a lack of fish trying their best to jump inside the boat. It is frustrating. I thought this trip would be partly about good fishing, but now it's more about poor fishing, or more aptly put, poor fishermen. I woke up this morning to a cacophony of howler monkeys and birds--what a surprise. They sounded like they were almost inside our tent. In the middle of the night, Graham woke me up to show me a spider the size of my hand crawling on the outside of the tent.

We had a little trouble with the fire yesterday, getting it to coals, but this morning it seems like we figured it out. We now know what kind of wood to look for, what burns best, and the best way to use our machetes to cut wood. For breakfast, refried rice and beans and some coffee. Mmmm.

The paddling today was great--the river has picked up its pace a bit and we saw a lot more people paddling around in dugout canoes. It's very refreshing to be admist a culture of canoeists using their craft as a tool for their way of life, not merely recreation. The paddle style I see everyone using is very well made, of hard, dense wood. It's short, mostly because of the lack of freeboard in the dugouts. The whole setup makes for a very easy, smooth paddle stroke. Even the young children here paddle with an ease that is a lot like the Cree of Northern Quebec. We paddled next to a man paddling downstream with his family and talked to him for a while. He said he made his canoe himself, carving it out by hand, using tools as well as fire. The whole process took 15 days. Life here is simple, slow, and totally dependent on the river. Fishing seems to permeate all aspects of life.

We stopped in Rio Sabalos for a rest and both Graham and I swam for the second time. Swimming in the river was big step for us, taking us out of our comfort zone. In doing so though, I feel that we have invited the river into our souls. It's funny, without knowing, I've just described a baptismal event. Not that was what was happening. Perhaps so, though. This river has power.

We got to the pueblo of El Castillo around 3:00 and found a hotel on the river that would let us stowe the boat. $5 for the both of us. Cheap as hell. We went up to look at the fort which this town was named. El Castillo was built in 1647 by the Spnaish and since then, has been a point of contention. Many battles have been fought here between pirates, English, Spanish, Moskito Indians, and even Sandanistas and guerillas during the civil war. It is beautiful. We got a great view of the river from the top of the fort. Very much unlike any other place I have been to in the world. There is a rapid here that we will run tommorrow; Class II with waves, should be fun. There aren't too many mosquitoes so far, so that makes me happy. If I go home without malaria, that will be an added bonus.

We seem to have generated a bit of fame during the course of our paddle down the river. It seems that not too many people have done what we are attempting to do, if any. Everyone pretty much knew who we were before we arrived in town. I think that the way in which we are traveling has given us some street credit and people are more open to us. We hope to meet Oscar's friend, Abner here and find out some more information about the San Juan downstream of El Castillo. My impression is that it is not very well traveled and we will see less and less people, at least on the Nicaraguan side, where the Indio-Maiz Reserve is, spreading all the way to the Coast and North, encompassing an enormous percentage of the country. We're not even supposed to set foot on the land. Oops.

The downside to our newly acquired celebrity status is that it has given us some unintentional transparency with the government officials. Earlier, I was called down by the owner of the hotel.

"Senor," she said, "Hay un hombre del ejercito al frente que quire hablar con tigo." ("Sir, there's a man from the army out front that wants to talk to you.")

My throat got dry and squeaky. As I introduced myself, I hoped he was as nice as Herman, Arbelo and Darwin. He wanted to see our permit for traveling on the river, our "zarpe", which we did not have. This time, he didn't ask for cigarettes. Instead, he said he'd have one ready for us in the morning at 7:00. It would just cost us $5.

I'm off now to refill on vegetalbes for the rest of the trip. I need to eat some dinner, perhaps drink a beer, and rest my weary sunburned body.

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