Visiting the Auca - 1979
From Pilgrimage to Peru
travel journal excerpt, Ecuador, 1979:
An unplanned descent into the jungle: strangers, storms, and the river that nearly took us —>
Jueves 15 de Marzo - Mishualli [sic] Misahuallí
Meeting the Québécois
… Met some Quebecuas [sic] Québécois planning to do a jungle trip tomorrow, so I decided to join them.
Downriver Into the Jungle
Viernes 16 de Marzo - Mishualli
Packed up my little day pack, with avena, soups, chocolate, biscuits, camera, etc. and joined forces with the 3 men from Quebec.
We began the journey to visit the Auca Indians at about 9 am, journeying down river for about 1½ hrs. Then we took off on a very long walk through the jungle, crossing streams on logs & dodging a lot of mud. There were quite a few hills & muddy slopes to climb. It rained a little but the tall trees afforded a lot of protection from the shower.
Dynamite, Fish, and a Jungle Shelter
We arrived late in the afternoon at a shelter near the river. Julio, our guide, prepared a bunch of dynamite and then exploded it in the river. The guys swam & fished out 13 fish, including one piranha.
Julio cleaned & cooked the fish in a big bowl over an open fire, with salt and lemons. Very bony but tasted good. Drank coffee & then slept on the bamboo slats of the shelter.
Borrowing the Queen’s Canoe
Sabado 17 de Marzo
Cooked some oats for breakfast & had the rest of the fish & rice. As we were about to leave 3 Indians came walking of the jungle. They devoured the remainder of our meal - obviously very hungry.
The Queen of the Auca village had gone to Quito for talks & left her canoe tied to the bank near the shelter. Julio offered us the alternative of walking 3hrs to the Auca Village - that of borrowing the ‘Queen’s’ boat & floating downstream to the village.
We took this option & had a very pleasant journey cruising down the river. At one point however the rapids & current pulled us quickly into some low branches. Julio jumped out of the boat while I fought against the branches. We pulled ourselves out, but with a few scratches & marks.
A little further on we left the canoe beside the bank & walked the last hr to the village.
Unfortunately, we discovered that almost the whole tribe had gone away to a feast at another village, 4 hrs walk away. There were only a few remaining Indians, some kids & mothers with babies.
We made ourselves at home in one of the huts made of bamboo & palm thatched roof. There was a good open fire arrangement raised above the floor, pots & metal pipes for resting them on. We cooked up some soup with noodles to regain some energy.
A Cold Night on Bamboo
Slept on the bamboo floor of the house, only on my plastic ground sheet & with cotton poncho for cover. Unfortunately, it became quite cold in the night, and I really needed my sleeping bag.
Domingo 18 de Marzo
Six Hours in the Selva
Walked off with 3 Indian boys into the jungle (Selva) to hunt for birds or animals. Seven of us (incl. 3 Quebuas) crunching thru the jungle was enough to scare aware any animals, but the Indians had attempts at stalking & shooting birds with their long blow pipe. They also took a gun with the bullets we supplied but didn’t use it.
We walked on and on further away from the village & eventually began to circle back but leaving the trail and hacking our way through the trees.
Then came the kill. Two parrots fluttering in the tree tops were shot down with the blowpipe, and then the boys macheted down a tree containing the parrots nest.
As soon as it fell the boys rushed to the trunk and extracted two baby parrots alive, but crawling in ants. The ants seemed to have built a nest around that of the parrots, or something like that. Anyway the birds and the boys were covered with ants, and they spent a few anxious moments hurredly picking them off. They wrapped the birds in a leaf basket to carry easily.
Our walk lasted 6hrs altogether, much longer than we expected or wanted, but it was an incredible experience, to witness their hunting methods first hand.
Flooded Rivers and the Sinking Canoe
Lunes 19 de Marzo - Auca Village
The night was full of thunder and lightning and solid rain, also very cold again. The Queen was returning this day and so we had to get her boat back to where we found it.
Unfortunately all the streams and rivers were flooded, swift and muddy. A small stream we waded through just before the village when coming in, had now risen to such an extent that we couldn’t cross. Julio went back & fetched an Indian with a canoe to ferry us across. One by one he skillfully took us across to the other side, crossing only by using his pole.
We sloshed on to the larger river & began an impossible mission to take the canoe upstream. For two hours or so Julio, myself & the 3 French Canadians fought against the torrent, pulling ourselves upstream by the branches & logs near the banks. We used bamboo poles where the water was shallow enough but found it very tough to move the canoe against the current.
Every so often we would lose control & be dragged out into the middle, & float back, ending up on the other side. Some of the branches were spiny and thorny & prickly, which posed another danger for us as we scraped under the branches. At the same time the rain was pouring down, & so we soaked from all directions.
The ultimate moment came when we were in the middle of the river attempting attempting to make some headway against a very strong torrent. The canoe began to turn around sideways against the flow & pivoted against some logs. Suddenly the water took control & swamped into the boat which quickly sank low into the river.
We hopped out & stood waist & chest high in the rapids, holding onto the boat & our luggage & maintaining a hold of the logs and branches to prevent everything & everyone from going downstream. Our aluminium bailing bowl raced away in the water but luckily our luggage stayed in the canoe.
We tied the front of the canoe to a log & branches and then began bailing the ship with our hands & Julio’s gumboots. Julio opened his pack & pulled out, amazingly, one dry packet of cigarettes, so I had to sit through a smoke session in the middle of el rio as the torrent was racing all around us. This was certainly the turning point, which convinced Julio to return us to the village. We returned all the way, down stream back to the Indians.
Waded ashore & then proceeded to dry out over the fire. My pack was soaked & although most things were inside a plastic bag, water still got in (probably through the hole in the bottom). Most dissapointing was the fact that water entered my camera & upsetting the electronics.
I sat almost naked over the fire trying to dry the cotton poncho. In the village two other Gringos had arrived as well. Robyn from USA & her German travelling companion. We had more hot soup and coffee.
Trading With the Auca
We had a trading session with the Indians. It began when little kids began to hang around the door & shyly held up pig’s tooth necklaces. I took one and in exchange offered my biro pen.
Later a guy produced a super little blow pipe, with the arrow container, piranha teeth & wool for arrows. I fished out everything I could find for the exchange. A fork & spoon, some shells, a bullet, a chocolate bar, some coins - todo.
The Indian seemed happy with these items, and handed me his blow pipe. All was well. The French Canadien guys also did the same, for blowpipes. One boy took interest in my hat, and produced a squirrel tail for it. For another pig’s tooth I exchanged my salt container & a box of matches.
The Long Walk Back Toward the Shelter
Martes 20 de Marzo
We payed 100 sucres for some Aucas to take the canoe back for us. Fortunately it rained no more during the night & the river was beginning to drop.
We waited around until about 1pm before setting off to the shelter - this time by foot. In the meantime, the Queen returned in the boat with a small entourage, plus 2 more Gringos, an English guy & another French Canadien. She was very ordinary, wore a watch & had a transistor radio going. The Indians also tryed out a chain saw (petrol driven) and were sawing down everything in sight after they managed to get it going.
Our return to the shelter took only 2 hours. When we reached the river, Julio made another dynamite package & blew up the water - but this time no fish.
I waded through the river (up to my waist) and was happy to be on the right side of it. Two American girls were resting at the shelter - they couldn’t make it any further. We all combined forces for an evening meal of delicious rice and lentil soup, with garlic, onion, carrot etc.
Fast March to the Río Napo
Miercoles 21 de Marzo — Somewhere in the jungle —> Mishualli
Had a filling breakfast of oats, lemon tea & a little rice & tinned sardine.
We walked out to the Rio Napo, together with Robyn, the German & also their guide who carried two macaws on a pole over his shoulder. Julio led the pace, which was fast.
Including a couple of long rest stops, we reached the Rio Napo in 4½ hours. Ate bananas at a house by the river, waded across another tributary & then began flagging down upstream canoes.
After a short time we were all seated in a large, motor powered canoe heading for civilisation again - back to Mishuallli. It was great to get back, Have some comida, cerveza, warm clothes & a soft bed for the night at Residencial Negrito - where Julio operates from.
Somewhere in the jungle I left my plastic rain poncho - not worth much but very useful in this part of the world.
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The Thread I Didn’t Know I Was Following
Somewhere, between the shelter, the dynamite, the waist‑deep crossings and the long walk to visit the Auca, a thread was pulled tight — a thread I didn’t yet know I was following.
These days in the Amazon jungle were not the climax of anything; they were part of a different kind of journey, the kind that tests you quietly before revealing what it’s preparing you for.
Only months later, standing on the deck of a gleaming white reefer ship called Tropical Moon, did I recognise the same invisible current — the sense of being carried toward something I had dreamed long before I knew how to name it.
