Swimming
-John Eickert
There is a species of fish indigenous to the Amazon basin of South America. It is common in clear running water, but the knowledge surrounding its natural history or lineage is brief though there are many legends and stories
concerning these fishes. Much of the Amazon is subject to seasonal flooding which forces this fish out of its preferred habitat and into sediment-laden waters. Displaced into the maelstroms of floodwaters this species seeks its own and forms small schools,
sometimes the receding floodwaters trap these schools, forcing the species into cannibalism, as all prey is exhausted and setting the table for hyperactive feeding should any land animal enter into one of these backwater pools. I have listened to more than
one tale of piranha’s stripping the flesh from an unwitting cow or horse, or even from man. They say this complete consumption can take place in a few moments of furious feeding, leaving the backwater pool stained red from the blood of the hopeless victim.
It is hard to imagine a more horrible way to die, man or beast, attacked and eaten while still living.
I sat in a hand made dugout canoe, which glided, along the slow, quiet, brown river beneath a complete green canopy, an umbrella alive with raucous macaws and monkeys. I sat in the floor of the simple canoe, my pants soaking
up water from the splashes, which came over the side, as there was little room between the side of the canoe and the river. A local man sat in the front and paddled, while our local guide paddled and steered as he stood in the rear. Ahead of me, also seated
on the bottom of the canoe, were two other intrepid tourists. We sat in silent awe hoping to see more wild pigs, a tapir- a small, stocky animal that makes a person think of an elephant when you see one though they are not related, or maybe a jaguar or at
least its track. As the sun rose in the sky so did the temperature and soon is was very hot and humid. We stopped at a place where fresh clear water ran down from the near mountains and into the discolored mainstream.
Our break finished, we prepared to reenter the mainstream, but our canoe was stuck in thick river grass and mud. As I was the heaviest and eager to help, I jumped out and gave the canoe a push before anyone else moved.
The boat freed easily and I jumped back in, covered in thick black mud and thin stemmed grass. The paddler in the front made a hurried statement to our guide, who laughed and said, “We are lucky today, the piranhas are not hungry.” The others looked at me
in horror while I peered over the side and into the dark waters, but saw nothing, not even a swirl. I survived without a scratch and now can tell I swam with the piranhas in the Amazon!