The 2023 Brazil Journals, Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

We Don’t Need No Stinking Shade

 

The heat index is somewhere between OMG and WTF!

--Author unknown 

 

 

 

I can’t help but feel a wisp of envy as I walk past the aluminum boats tied off in their slips.  Fastened to the gunwales, or gunnels, of the boats are frameworks of aluminum poles that support fabric roofs to shade the boats’ passengers.   They are called biminis.

 

Then, near the end of the dock, I reach our boat.   There is no pole framework, no roof, no shade.   We will be offered up on an aluminum skillet to the  relentless Brazilian sun. 

 

We’re tough, I remind myself.   We ‘don’t need no stinking shade.’

 

I select my seat and settle in.   Camera bag and camera with the big lens goes on the non-slip padded floor, along with my water bottle.   I don the life vest.

 

 

For myself, the transition to fully clothed shade is slow. 

 

 

When we first arrived in Brazil, Sergio we received presents from Octavio—a water bottle, a neck gaiter, and a pair of fingerless gloves.   He  said we would find them very useful.

 

I wondered about that.   Who wants to wear more clothing when it’s so hot?

 

I started the trip, as always, with UPF (ultraviolet protection factor) shirts to keep the sun off my arms and neck.  When needed,  I wore a blue cap that had a flap on the back to kept the sun off my neck.   It worked fine.

 

The next addition to my outfit was a cool tie, my old standby.   It has polymer absorbent crystals inside that soak up  water and cools by evaporation against the skin.

 

It isn’t until we reach Hotel Porto Jofre and  spending long hours on a small aluminum skiff, completely exposed to the hot sun, that I don the neck gaiter.  That keeps the sun off most of my face and I'm surprised that it cools my skin rather than makes it hotter.

 

As the blistering days go on, the neck gaiter is adjusted to cover more of my face.   Then, I start soaking it in cold water and pulling it on dripping wet.   That's very nice.

 

At the same time, the fingerless gloves come into use because my hands were tanning too darkly.   The gloves have no fingers so we can manipulate our cameras and change settings, something that is almost impossible to do with full gloves.

Hanging on to my Tilly hat so it doesn't blow away as the boat goes rapidly down the Cuiaba river.

 

The only disadvantage is picking up the aluminum water bottle without fingers covered. They are too hot to handle with bare skin. We quickly learn to keep the bottles in the shade.

The final addition is a blue cooling towel given to each of us by Marg Wood, who arranged this trip.  It has to be soaked in water.   After that, you can use it for wiping your face or any other purpose.

 

I drape it over my head, under my hat. 

  One day when going to lunch after a particularly grueling hot morning,  I draped it around my neck and tucked the long ends under the front of my tee shirt.  

Did I care what I looked like?   

Hot?    Darned right.   This is the hottest day yet.   My hair is soaked with sweat.

 

Not at all, though I do a quick intake of breath when I look at some photos of myself.  This long-time Alaskan has little to no experience with hundred -degree weather and I am implementing everything I have to beat the heat.

 

Every day I think that I am not sweating, yet when I stand to get off the boat, my clothing is soaked from my shoulder blades down to the backs of my knees.

 

We also make use of the small umbrellas that Octavio has available.   They are very welcome when we are sitting and waiting, which is something wildlife photographers are prone to do.   Waiting for the subject to do something other than sleep.

 

So, we survive.   

 

And those boats with the biminis?   The poles would be in the way of our lenses.   I find another use for their fastening points.

 

My blue hat has no chin strap.   Shelly catches it the first time it blows off, Octavio the second time.   The third time it lands in the river and we have to go back for it.

 

Then I start wearing a Tilly hat, but it too does not have a chinstrap.  After it's caught a couple times and lands in the water the last time, I remove the strap from one camera and fasten the swivel snap to the drawstring of the hat and the other to the bimini clip.

 

It doesn’t take long before I make another adjustment.  I fasten the strap to a belt loop on my safari pants!   Now I am mobile.

 

Viola! 

This boat driver improvises with a cardboard box bottom.

 

 

 

Taking a break in the shade of a tree while we wait for a jaguar to wake up.

 

 ***

Part of a lagoon.   There is a brown black-banded hawk sitting low on a branch just left of center.

Black-banded hawk.

Pied lapwing

Below is a bird sometimes called the "Jesus bird" for its seeming ability to walk on water.    Long toes enable it to traverse lily pads and other water vegetation with ease.   The females are larger than the males, which is maybe how they settled into their reversed roles with the female mating with a male, laying a clutch of eggs in a nest that HE built, then wandering off to another male and repeating the process.    Sometimes, females mate with three or four males, leaving the males to tend the eggs and raise the young.   A male carried the hatchlings under his wings, and the sight of a male with multiple long legs and toes hanging from under his wings is a sight to behold.   A little creepy, but a sight nonetheless.    The females, meanwhile , are living the life!

Wattled jacana, about nine inches long and weighing 5 oz and less.