Facing the grim reality of no motor, not much food, and a possible 2 day float back to our original campsite, the gringos in the group looked at each other with unspoken worry. The Huaorani however seemed unfazed by this calamity and within 10 minutes of the motor sinking, Otobo's brother Bartolo jumped in the river with a rope, swam to the bottom, tied the rope around the sunken motor and re-emerged. Hurrah for Huaorani resoucesfulness. While we are all contemplating our horrendous fate, they are non-chalantly rectifying the situation. After they lug the motor ashore, they strip it down and proceed to drain the water out of the engine. After a tense hour of the engine not starting, it finally fired up, prompting one big collective sigh of relief. Back on our way.

The rest of the day is spent spotting wildlife, with the highlight being a tree filled with about 30 macaws. The rest of teh time is spent navigating around the all the downed logs. At several points during the day we were sidetracked for varying periods by trees totally blocking the river.

(trying to cut our way through)

(now trying to meditate our way out of this mess)

We had hoped on making it to the Shiripuno Lodge to spend the night in relative confort although the many setbacks during the day has made reaching there before nightfall impossible. Our only option is to set up camp along the river. With the the possibility, abeit remote, of running into the uncontacted tribes, Tom half-jokingly states that if someone says says "run to the river," believe them and run to the river. Haha. I nervously laugh and start staring around at the forest. Joe and I don't have our tents so we sleep under a piece of plastic thrown over a tree. A rain shower in the middle of the night makes us oh so happy.

The next day is spent doing much of the same, motoring towards The Outside. Finally, after another 10 hours in the canoe, we reach the bridge. We unload the canoe and wait for the bus while Tom and Otobo smooth over the issue of the warrant.

On the bus ride to the city of Coca Joe and I feast on several chicken-on-a-sticks and drink cold Coca Cola with child-like glee. Arrive in town and start to feel as scummy as I look. Take the first shower in five weeks and finally see my reflection. Scream.