Up the Amazon and Madeira rivers, through Bolivia and Peru

by Edward D. Mathews

About forty leagues from the Junta de los Rios, the river Piray runs into the Rio Grande on its left bank, and from this point the Rio Grande receives the name of Sará until it joins the Mamoré. The Piray, of the navigation of which I can only speak from hearsay, flows from the district of Santa Cruz, and is said to be free from all obstacle for at least eight months of the year; but for the remaining four I should think it would be closed to steamers, as even canoes have to be unloaded and dragged over the shallows, which, I was told, are of frequent occurrence. The Rio Grande at its mouth appeared to be very dry, while the Mamoré had plenty of water, and was about 500 yards in width.

About 9 a.m. on the 25th, we entered the river Chapari, leaving the Mamoré, or as it is called from the junction upwards, the Chimoré, on our left. I was only able to ascend the Chimoré a short distance, just to get some slight idea of its capabilities for navigation purposes, and it seemed to me to be a far superior river in volume of water to the Chapari, which is barely 200 yards wide at its junction with the Mamoré, and brings down beautifully clear water, that soon becomes lost in the muddy waters of the larger river. I was much disappointed that Don Bello did not arrange to ascend the Chimoré to its port of the same name, instead of taking the Chapari, which, as will hereafter be seen, is full of obstructions to the progress of the canoes. I suppose the reason why the Chapari route is the one in general use, is that it allows the canoes to ascend right up to the (so-called) port of Coni, or the landing-place and depôt for the city of Cochabamba; while the port of the Chimoré is about two leagues distant therefrom. A good road might easily be made across from Chimoré to Coni, and I should think that the ascent of the Chimoré could be done in about half the time required for that of the Chapari, as I have been credibly informed that there are no rapids, and but few shallows, on the Chimoré.

Throughout the day the Chapari kept of a uniform width of about 150 yards, and though every turn of the river caused the usual playa, or sandbank, there was always a fair channel for the canoes.

Steamers for the upper waters of the Mamoré—that is, above the rapids—should be about 80 or 100 tons burthen, and stern-wheel boats would probably be the best for the purpose, as they would be of lighter draft than screw-propellers. Eighteen inches to two feet should be the limit of draft, although the channels would generally admit of deeper vessels being used—indeed, some of the canoes draw three and three feet six inches; but the danger of grounding on the playa is so constant, that only flat-bottomed craft would be always sure of making fair progress. At present the practice is, when it is found impossible to haul the canoes, with their loads, over the shallows, to unload them and drag the packages through the shallow water, in hides doubled up so as to form rough and water-tight boxes, termed “pelotos,” and frequently the cargoes are thus drawn along for two or three days successively.

When steam navigation is commenced on these upper waters of the Mamoré, a station should be set up opposite to the Junta de los Rios, that is, on the left bank of the Mamoré. It would serve as a depository for canoes and goods from or for Santa Cruz, and would be free from attacks of the Siriono savages, who are on the opposite shore, and do not seem to use canoes at all. As we proceed with the journey, we shall see what the capabilities of the Chapari are for navigation; but rapids and strong currents (“cachuelas” and “corrientes”) are spoken of as existing higher up, and also “barbaros,” or savages, called Yuracarés; but they are “manso,” or tame, being called barbaros simply because they refuse to be baptized into the Roman Catholic Church.

During the day we were frequently much delayed by getting into false channels amongst the sandbanks; these often obliged us to return a considerable distance before we got into the right course, as they do not connect with each other, but end abruptly in a most inexplicable manner.

There is very little, if anything, to shoot on the river Chapari, for the Yuracarés are such good hunters that game of all kinds has become very scarce in their district. Fish is said to be very abundant, but as we worked long hours by day, the men were too tired to sit up fishing at night, and consequently we had no time to test the resources of the river in this respect.

On the 26th we paddled, nearly the whole of the day, through a succession of snags and dead trees that had collected across the river, and formed an almost complete barricade. These obstructions might be removed by hauling them down stream with a steam-tug, but the operation would be a long and difficult one. In the afternoon, being about ten minutes behind the other canoes, I took up a channel on the right bank, and kept on round a large island formed in a big bend of the river, the channel being very dry, and in places very full of snags. It is, however, much shorter than the main course of the river, which we got into again before nightfall.

July 27th. Throughout the day’s journey the river was wider than the part travelled over yesterday, and there were fewer snags and less fallen timber to delay the canoes. To-day we overtake two large cargo canoes, or gariteas, belonging to Don Bello, and there are four others ahead, all laden with cocoa for sale in Cochabamba. Thus there are nine canoes altogether in our party, and this would seem to give proof that there are a good many men always to be had in Trinidad, although to look at the place one would fancy it deserted; and such was the impression that I gathered from my visit there. However, when one thinks of the number of canoes always in movement on the upper rivers, it is clear that there must be a considerable population. To-day I counted up the “tripulaciones,” or crews, with us and the four canoes ahead, and made the number of men to be exactly 100, exclusive of servants. Most of these are from Trinidad, and there are other canoes on the Piray for Cuatro Ojos, and down the Mamoré to Santa Ana, Exaltacion, and the other villages. During the afternoon we passed a station called the “Cruz,” being simply a rough cross set up to mark the half distance from the mouth of the river to the port of Coni.

The next day (28th) the morning was very cold, the thermometer going down to 60°, through the continuance of a strong south wind which has been blowing for the last few days. The river this day was bordered with groves of chuchia, which one of the Bolivian patrons chose to set on fire. The canes being very dry, the fire took large proportions with great rapidity, and the wind blowing straight down stream, our canoes passed a bad time from the quantity of ashes that were blown over us.