After a brief five-minute rest back at the lodge, we set off once more just after 6 PM in search of caimans along the mighty Tambopata River—the very same river where I kayaked on my first day. As our boat glided silently through the water, our guide’s sharp eyes quickly spotted several caimans basking by the riverbank.
However, these elusive creatures were incredibly alert, slipping beneath the surface with a splash as soon as the boat drew near. Despite multiple attempts to approach them quietly, they remained evasive—until our guide’s skillful maneuvering finally paid off. With deft precision, he caught one—not to keep it, but to teach us about this fascinating animal.
The small caiman lay still in the guide’s hands, its long tail curling slightly as I reached out to touch its scaly skin and examine its unique features up close. This remarkable creature had five toes on its front paws and four on its hind legs, while its large, bulbous eyes gleamed with an eerie white light, much like a cat’s eye when contracted, with the pupil narrowing into a vertical slit.
Its back was armored with hard, shell-like plates, yet its belly was soft and supple. After giving us a thorough understanding of the caiman, the guide softly announced, “Alright, it’s time for you to go home,” before gently releasing it back into the river, where it swiftly vanished into the depths.
Seated on the boat, we gazed upward at the glittering expanse of stars above, their twinkling reflections dancing upon the tranquil waters below. The serene night was occasionally punctuated by distant roars from the jungle, mingling with the melodic symphony of birdsong and insect calls. Fireflies flitted gracefully through the forest, their flickering lights breaking the silence yet blending seamlessly into the harmony of the surroundings.
Under the watchful gaze of the starlit sky, our boats drifted lazily down the river, the cool nighttime breeze offering a refreshing contrast to the stifling heat and humidity of the day.
