First morning on the River was calm and beautiful. Guillermo explained that the river was nearly 30 feet above its normal level, officially in flood stage. It felt vast—less like a river and more like an inland sea. Entire sections of forest stood half-submerged, tree trunks disappearing into the dark, tannin-rich water mostly brown from all the run off flowing.
We set out under brilliant sunshine aboard small skiffs, skimming across the swollen expanse of the Marañón River. We made our way toward a network of narrow tributaries, stopping for birds as we saw them.
Soon, we transferred into double kayaks paddled by locals and began slipping silently deeper, creek after creek, paddling through corridors of flooded forest.
Eventually, we found a spot to pull ashore—an opening that led into the forest and onward to Amazon Natural Park.
The morning’s highlight was the suspended bridge walk—an elevated network of walkways stretching a third of a mile through the upper tier of the rainforest canopy. Suspended 85 feet above the forest floor, it’s one of the longest canopy walks in the world.
From this rare vantage point, the rainforest revealed a different personality. Our guides paused often, pointing out walking palms—trees that appear to stride across the forest floor on stilt-like roots—and branches heavy with epiphytes clinging to every available surface. At eye level, the treetops teemed with life usually hidden from view.
Then the weather turned.
Sunshine gave way to gentle drops of rain, to sheets of rain in minutes. The boardwalk and bridges slicked over. Mud swallowed boots. Mosquitoes materialized as if summoned by the storm.
At one particularly treacherous stretch, an older gentleman in our group slipped hard in the mud. Amy and Charlie had gone ahead, so I decided to help our Guide get the rest our group back safely. I grabbed the handle of his backpack and steadied him as we shuffled forward through the mud together. By the time we made it back to the skiffs, we were soaked to the bone—rainwater streaming from sleeves, boots squelching with every step. It continued to pour on our skiff ride – those guides couldn’t paddle fast enough.
It was messy. It was wild. It was unforgettable.
Back aboard the Delphin, the contrast couldn’t have been greater. Hot showers. Dry clothes. Warm towels. The sun broke out again.
Lunch was exceptional—fresh, beautifully prepared, and somehow even better after a morning in the rain.
We lingered on deck afterward, watching the river slide by, grateful for dry skin and steady footing. Renzo took some time to explain the pink dolphins and the river to Charlie.
That afternoon we boarded the skiffs again, traveling farther up the Marañón toward a virtually unvisited section of the Pacaya Samiria National Reserve—a five-million-acre sanctuary established in 1982 to protect the extraordinary biodiversity of the northern Amazon – Peru’s largest protected area
We explored near the confluence of the Yanayacu River and the Pucate River, drifting quietly while the jungle revealed its secrets.
We Spotted (thanks to Mark Crouter for getting better pictures than we could):
- A slow-moving sloth tucked high in the branches
- Pendulum-like weaving bird nests hanging from treetops
- A crimson-backed tanager darting across the canopy
- Tiny proboscis bats clustered beneath a shaded overhang
- A Green Iguana perched in the low hanging branches
- Pink Dolphins playing around the Delphin as we took off
- A Black-fronted Nunbird
- A Great Black Hawk
At one bend in the river, we floated past a small town called Buenos Aires. Children played joyfully in the water that served simultaneously as swimming pool, washing machine, and dish sink—a humbling reminder of how intertwined daily life here is with the river itself.
On the way back to the ship, the sky ignited in streaks of orange and pink, reflecting across the flooded forest as the sun dipped below the horizon.
Cocktail hour on the deck felt well-earned. Dinner followed—another standout—and later Charlie and I found ourselves in the ship’s library playing chess on a beautifully crafted custom board, each piece carved into an Amazon animal.
From flood-stage rivers and rain-soaked jungle trails to sunset cocktails and rainforest chess—it was a day that captured the Amazon in all its contrasts: raw and refined, chaotic and serene, humbling and luxurious.
