(^46) The tiny hamlet of Mucuri made an excellent place to have a snack. Sixty-five
kilometres and one flat tyre later, our path abruptly ended at the sleepy fishing
settlement of Nova Vicosa, revealing a picturesque fishing harbour. Studying the
map, the town of Caralvelas didn’t appear too far away, but we had to cross a
mangrove swamp.
Once a price was negotiated, the bikes and panniers were loaded onto the small
boat. Amanda was extremely apprehensive, but at least the boat was more
substantial than the canoe of a few days earlier. She reluctantly approached the
boat and swore I had picked the smallest one in the harbour.
So, we set off into the sunset and putt-putted toward Caravelas. Amanda anxiously
looked on when I took the wheel to enable the skipper to work the bilge pump.
There’s something intriguing about mangrove swamps, and sunset was a perfect
time to be out on the water.
Soon, the sun started setting, the birds began settling in the treetops, the fireflies
came out, and phosphorescence began appearing in the wake of the boat – and
still, we sailed on. Eventually, it became pitch dark and the stars shone brightly.
By then, Amanda was extremely uncomfortable (to put it mildly). Our boat had no
lights and one only hoped the boatman knew the way. Eventually, three hours later,
Amanda excitedly spotted the lights of Caravelas across the water. Well done to
Amanda and our skipper for making it across the dark waters of the mangrove
swamps.
Thank goodness, Caravelas had a comfortable pousada and a open self-service
restaurant. All’s well that ends well.
leana
(Leana)
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