|
|
 The
airplane is a twin engine, six seat Piper Apache with a crew of two: Boris
and Emil. There are four of us: Paula and Gary, Pat and I.
Boris Kaminski is one of those rare people who know what he loves to do and does it for a living. Since 1970 he has been flying his own airplane and sharing the beauty of southern Venezuela and the charm of the people who live here with a select group of adventurous tourists. Kaminski Air Safaris is a two person company. Boris is president, chief pilot, senior guide, chef and raconteur. Alicia handles the arrangements including the menus and flies with Boris when she has the opportunity. |
We have Danish and coffee and then a game of musical airplane seats and Boris is back at the controls. We are flying over tepuis, flat-topped mountains that range from 4,000 to 9,000 feet high and have near vertical sides. In the southern United States we would call them mesas and they would be dry, barren, red sandstone. Here they are covered with lush green vegetation.
Our initial objective is Auyan tepui and the tallest water fall in the world, Angel Falls. The falls have a total height of 3,200 feet and an uninterrupted drop of 2,850 feet -- 16 times higher than Niagara. It was discovered by Jimmy Angel, an early explorer and bush pilot in 1937. The area is now protected as Canaima National Park.
Boris descends to about 7,000 feet. The scenery is spectacular at as
we fly level with and along side the top of the tepui. But there are puffs
of dense white clouds hanging like ornaments on the sides of the tepui.
They
are covering some of the mountain, including the top of the falls. We see
enough of the bottom of Angel Falls to at least say we have seen them (and
there are pictures on the Net). 
We land on a grass runway just south of the Auyan tepui three hours after leaving Caracas. At Uruyen, the Pemon Indians are developing a camp for tourists. There are three thatched huts with mud walls, two rooms to a hut with a mud wall between them. Each room has a toilet, sink and shower. There is a larger hut that is the lobby, bar, kitchen and restaurant.
We get settled and then hike a couple of miles across grassland and then up into the foot-hills at the base of the tepuis to a waterfall with a deep pool at the base. The water has a rich tan color. The color comes from tannin in the leaves and twigs that are decaying in the pools and streams. In addition to adding visual interest, it keeps away mosquitoes.
Throughout the trip we are close to the headwaters of rivers and streams. Boris assures us that the water is perfectly safe for swimming and drinking. We never had a problem.
Before lunch we swim below the waterfall. In fact, we swim every day of the trip, as often as three times on several days. Water in the mid 70's is always refreshing when air temperature is in the 80's to low 90's. Lunch, and then a choice of a siesta or a hike to another waterfall. A lazy afternoon to adjust from U.S. west-coast time to four hours earlier seems like a good idea. We hike part way back and the camp has sent a flat bed truck with benches on the back to meet us so we ride back.
As the sun sets we are introduced to another daily ritual, Kaminski Specials. Angastora bitters, grapefruit juice, rum and freshly grated nutmeg. "Pilot sized" for the ladies and those who have to fly the next day. "Full bore" for the rest of us. Hors d'oeuvre tonight are muscles in lime. Beef with baked potatoes finished on an open fire. Always wine with dinner, a selection of cheeses, beer, coffee or tea and an optional shot of top-quality rum.
Day two
After breakfast the camp's truck takes us to the foot of the mountain for a hike to another waterfall and swim. This time we work our way up a canyon so narrow we sometimes have to wade in the fast flowing stream. Boris has our trip timed so we arrive when the waterfall is dramatically lit by a narrow shaft of sunlight.Back to the plane and then back to the sky for an hour flight to Santa Elena. The town is on one of the few paved roads in southern Venezuela. It also has a paved airstrip and an airport with regularly scheduled service via DC-3's.
We are met by Manfred Frischeisen owner of Ya Koo (yaw KOE), Campamento Ecologico, where we will spend the night. He gives us the Cook's tour of the area including a quick trip over the border into Brazil to get a stamp on our passport, to shop for semi-precious stones and to visit an Austrian painter: Walter Stockhammer.
Back in Santa Elena we stop for an ice cream cone. Then to Ya Koo for an excellent Christmas Eve dinner. First class accommodations and our last bed until we return to Caracas.
Day three - Christmas
Before breakfast we walk to the Ya Koo Heliport -- a concrete slab painted yellow that is about a foot wider than the skids of the helicopter and a foot shorter. Five of us, there wasn't room for Emil, join this morning's pilot, Raul, in a Bell "Long Ranger." We head northeast to Kukenan tepui (8,500 feet) on the border with Guyana. You can take a truck from Santa Elena and then spend five days climbing to the top and back or you can do it in about two hours in a helicopter. We fly in for a close look at the shear walls, fly up through a cloud and land on the top.
250 million years ago, South America was still joined to Africa. As the continents drifted apart, the Amazon basin and Roraima plateau were defined. About 20 million years ago erosion wore away most of the plateau leaving the tepuis well defined and their tops isolated . Early in the 20th century, there were several popular novels based on early explorers’ tales about the region. The most widely recognized of these is The Lost World by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, author of the Sherlock Holmes novels. It describes an ascent to the top of a tepui inhabited by prehistoric plants and dinosaurs.
The
wind has carved black stone sculptures 30 feet tall. Gargoyles, Chinese
tea houses, alligators, monsters and whatever your mind's eye can create.
There are tiny bright flowers. Pools rich with tannin, and huge rocks balanced
so precariously they move if you lean on them.
The Indians consider the top of the tepuis to be sacred places. There is a bit of a cold bite to the wind. The murmur of the wind, bright glare of the sun, shifting veil of clouds and strange, dark rocks all work together to confirm that this is a place of power.
We lift off and fly over the edge -- my heart skips a beat as the ground suddenly drops almost 2,000 feet. Raul takes us around Kukenan then back to lower altitudes. He takes us over several other cliffs and one of them is a waterfall. We do a tight 180 degree turn and land on a flat spot near the top of the falls.
The helicopter follows the falls down until they become a river and then follows the river until we go ... under a bridge. Then down the highway at 120 miles an hour. Up and over town and back to Ya Koo for Christmas breakfast. Wow!
Back to the airport for an hour and a quarter flight to an Indian village with a "municipal" grass airstrip used by Jimmy Angel and others and a "private" grass airstrip for Kaminski Air Safaris. At the uphill end of the private strip are three huts: the Kaminski Grand where four of us stay, El Presidente were Boris and Emil sleep and a small hut between them with a white china toilet. We use a bucket of water to flush, but we have all of the comforts of home.
We walk about a mile to the Yekuana Indian village. It is Christmas day and they are sharing their local brew. Some of the men and a few of the women are definitely beyond their limit. No problems, just glazed over looks and slow, unsteady movements. Several young couples are dancing slowly, ballroom style to a boombox.
Most Indians are in western shorts and T-shirts or simple dresses, but some are in native dress. This is our first and last encounter with Indians selling a few native crafts. Gary arranges for a blowgun and darts to be delivered tomorrow. (Our airplane has a panel that can be removed to stow fishing poles, or blowguns.)
Back
at the Kaminski Grand, Boris introduces us to the art of hanging, getting
into and sleeping in hammocks. We open them carefully to avoid tangling
the strings and hang them close to the floor, just in case. Get in carefully.
Sleep diagonally so you are almost flat; this way you can even sleep on
your side. After sleeping six nights in a hammock, I'd choose one over
some of the camp beds I've slept on.
Day four
The villagers are recovering from Christmas. We watch them cook their version of bread, about as thin as a pizza crust, white (they scrape off any toasted bits) and almost three feet across. Not much taste and it can be tough to chew. This bread is made from a root that is loaded with cyanide. Way back in history they learned to grate the root, put it in heavy baskets that are about six feet long and less than a foot in diameter and then use a long pole as a lever to stretch the basket and squeeze the poison out of the pulp.They are boat builders. They make dugout canoes and then use fire and heat to bend the sides outward so the boat is 50 percent wider than the original tree. They use their boats on the rivers and sell them downstream. The village has a solar powered radio, all of the tribe's villages have radios. They have medical supplies ranging from vitamins to malaria treatment, and a wheel chair. A nearby mission has trained three of the Indians as school teachers.
Boris has arranged for two boats to take us downstream to a Yanomamo village. Our guides paddle downstream today rather than using motors because the water is very low this time of year. It takes about two hours of paddling and drifting to reach the village which is perched at the edge of a cliff, about 15 feet above the river. This is one of the most northern villages of the Yanomamo and is a rather small one.
The villagers are wearing a mix of western and native costumes. There are several huts with a roof and walls and one that is just a roof. They seem to be almost as curious about us as we are about them. One of them brings out a spear with a shale point. Gary wants it. Boris has four machetes he brought as gifts. A transaction that would have been simple most places quickly becomes a community event. Voices are raised and it gets a bit ugly around the edges. Boris finally negotiates a deal, Gary gets the spear and life returns to normal.
Several
women show us the local equivalent of ear rings. Sticks about the
length and diameter of a wooden pencil with decorations on the top are
inserted through holes in the ear lobes.
Almost everyone has some form of face and body paint. They show us the seeds that provide the colors and Boris shows us how it is done. We get out our Polaroid camera and the women dash for their jewelry and the men get their shotguns -- props, not a threat.
This is a country without cheese, either to eat or as an excuse to smile for a picture. Posing for a picture requires turning the brightest, smiling face into a somber statue. Click. The smile is back in an instant. Maybe the missionaries only showed them pictures from the Old Testament.
Our guides paddle, pole and pull our boats upriver. The rivers in Venezuela are often referred to as "black water" where there is tannin or "white water" where there isn't. The black water makes a near perfect reflecting surface for the trees and flowers along the shore.
Lunch gives us a chance to cool off with a swim and our guides get a break. Then up river again.
Back at the village we get involved in some serious bargaining for souvenirs. One girl in her teens has a beaded apron for sale. When she meets some price resistance she disappears for a few moments then returns wearing nothing but the apron over a pair of perfectly white lacy panties. Clothing is worn for protection, not modesty. We don't buy the apron, but do buy some baskets and necklaces and Gary picks up his blowgun and poison tipped darts.
Day five
Boris teaches us how to take down our hammocks, we must make sure that the strings remain free of tangles, then roll them and stow them. The spear and blow gun go where the airplane's designers envisioned fishing poles and we are off to our next stop.An hour's flight and we set down on a grass strip and roll to the end where a group of villagers are waiting. Here we have a hut like the last one only larger; Boris and Emil join us. We still have a small hut with a white china toilet and bucket flush.
We are low on ice so Boris is going to fly to Caicara del Orinoco. Gary and I and one of the nuns from the mission ask to go along. We need ice and a few supplies. The nun needs a few supplies and primers so they can reload their own shotgun shells.
The flight is just over half an hour. At the airport a soldier checks our passports and carefully writes the passport numbers in his notebook -- no other information, just the number. We stop at an outdoor "farmers market." There is a nearly new cardboard box that once held "Washington State Apples." We buy a delicious watermelon, cantaloupe, some chocolate cookies and small ice creams to take back. There are several stores selling film but we are assured that no one in town carries Polaroid film.
When we get back, Paula and Pat have visited the mission gift shop and already have some items on "layaway." None of the Indians make any effort to sell us anything. The mission has been here about 15 years. There is normally a staff of four nuns, but at the moment there are only two. One is a teacher and she is assisted by several Indians who have been trained to teach. They have about 250 students. The other nun is a nurse and she is supported by a medical team that comes for a few days every other month.
Here
there are mosquitoes and in the past there have been reported cases of
malaria. We hang our hammocks and totally seal them in mosquito nets –
there is a zipper for access. Boris assures us that the mosquitoes do not
like bright light. The last one in their hammock turns out the kerosene
lantern.
Day six
We cross a river and go through an orchard. Young trees have been flown in by Boris and cared for by the nuns. There are several kinds of lemons and oranges, mangoes, papaya and bananas. There is a gasoline-powered pump to get water to new trees as they are planted.We move past abandoned huts -- Boris has a story about each one -- and through an abandoned village. The prevalent form of agriculture is slash and burn and they move on when the land stops producing.
Lunch and a rewarding swim at a waterfall. There are two tribes of Indians at the mission. One of them, the Panare, used to live near this waterfall and the mission started here. But, access was difficult. The mission moved to the valley where they have an air strip and the Indians moved to stay close to the source of gifts and services from the mission.
In the afternoon, we leave our camp. We retrace our route back across the river, through the orchard and then veer into the Panare village. They are only moderately interested in us but are polite. We are invited into their homes. There are several families in each hut; one small fire per family. The only light inside comes from glowing embers and the light through the small door.
The fires are for cooking in the daytime and heat at night. When we sleep in hammock, we have a sleeping bag under us and a light blanket. They sleep in hammocks in loincloths.
One young man, Roberto, offers to show us how to shoot a blowgun. When
they go hunting, they carry some darts that are ready to use plus supplies
to make more. Wooden darts are already dipped in a fast acting poison --
there is a small pot of it handing in the rafters of every hut. He takes
a small bit of kapok -- silky fibers from the seeds of the ceiba tree --
from a little basket and wraps it around the trailing end. He then ties
it on with a vine that is the thickness of very fine fish line. Most of
the kapok is near the rear of the dart so it flares out to create
a seal inside the blowgun. The process of preparing a new dart probably
takes about 45 seconds. 
The blowgun has two parts. There is a reed that is smooth and almost constant in diameter that forms the inner barrel. It is inside a piece of cane that provides strength -- blowguns can be as long as nine feet. They are almost never perfectly straight but they are straight enough you can see through one that is nine feet long. Boris shows us how to check for the curve and then hold the blowgun so the curve is upward to get a straight shot with a little extra distance. Hold it firm to your lips, keep both eyes open, aim over the end at your target and blow hard. My first shot only went about half way. But the next one was within an inch or two of an eight-inch target at about 30 feet.
Day seven
We are at this camp for three days, at our request. The Indians are working in the field or hunting during the day so there isn't much to see or do. One of Boris's earlier guests, the president of an electrical equipment company, donated a solar power unit to the mission. We helped Boris do some minor repairs -- our good deed for the trip. In addition to doing what he loves to do -- fly and share experiences with tourists -- Boris is also making a difference by flying supplies to this mission and the Indians near our earlier camp.Mid afternoon we head to the opposite side of the mission to visit a Hoti village. At both villages and at the mission, men wear loin cloghs and the women wear only hand woven "string Bikinis."
Several of the small boys have built wooden airplanes from scraps. All of them have wheels that roll and propellers that are curved so they spin if you hold the airplane and fly it through the air. Several have doors that open and there are carved people inside or seeds that represent cargo.
Just like every other third world country we have visited, the boys come out to meet us, walk with us and show us things. Usually the girls stand and watch or have work to do. Here, some of the girls join the boys, but they stay in the back row. Smiles are everywhere except through the lens of a camera.
Day eight
A lazy day and then another visit to the Hoti village. Some different huts, a spider monkey, a woman weaving a man's loin cloth on a small loom. The women's "string Bikinis" are woven on the center part of a loom that is shaped like and about the same size as a tennis racket. Some additional airplanes and lots of smiles.Day nine
A forty-minute flight southwest into the state of Amazonas. Most of the watershed in Venezuela drains to the Orinoco River which eventually flows north east into the Caribbean. This is Amazonas, but has little or nothing to do with the Amazon River.From the plane to a truck to a boat with six comfortable seats and a 40 horse power outboard. Upriver we stop at Camp Hope. Boris explains that the Indian village next door will be up al night celebrating the New Year. The camp staff is further up river setting up camp on an island.
We go to upriver. We stop to look at a village and find out that these
Indians are Piaroa. The village is less than two years old and there are
still lots of partly burned trees in the fields, another example of slash
and burn. They tell Boris, in Spanish, that we are the first visitors.
After a bit we stop for lunch and a swim. On up the river and as promised,
camp is set up -- except for our hammocks. Boris says there are no mosquitoes
but some of the camp crew have their nets up so we hang ours.
The island is just downstream from a low waterfall. There are flocks
of butterflies along the river's edge. One of the camp crew is fishing
for dinner. The setting more than makes up for the fact that this is the
only night without a toilet.
Dinner tonight is wild lapin and barbecued fish. The Champagne is in real wineglasses. Dinner is on china plates. First class and outdoors under billions of stars. Our camp crew and co-pilot begin celebrating the New Year, but we turn in early.
Day ten - New Year
After breakfast, we hike to, you guessed it, another waterfall and, of course, swim. Each waterfall has it own structure, dynamics, colors and challenges, if you swim close.When we get back to the island the crew has cleaned up and headed down river. We saw lots of birds coming upstream. Now there are birds, a very large snake, a crocodile and several fresh water porpoises.
We have seen massive tepuis, spectacular waterfalls. We have slept well, eaten well and had all of the important comforts of home. The high points of the trip arethe people we met and our interactions with them.
About three hours of flying and we are back in Caracas. Back to the hotel where the beds don't move when you turn, the air is cool but a bit stale and we can no longer safely drink the water.
Caracas
We take a taxi to El Hatillo, a former suburb that is now part of Caracas. It has old Spanish architecture that has been turned into shops and painted vibrant colors. Hannsi is one of the largest craft shops in Caracas – a Venezuelan Pier One, Cost Plus, etc., where we verify that we paid reasonable prices for the items we bought from the Indians.Back in the heart of the city we take the underground Metro to Plaza Bolivar, the historic center of the city. Then we take it the other way to the Sabana Grande the shopping center of the city.
In the evening, Boris and Alicia take us up to Parque National El Avila on a paved road designed for four wheeled vehicles with very low gears. The highest point in the park is more than 3,000 feet. We don’t go quite to the top, but from the ridgeline we get a spectacular view of the lights of the city of Caracas. Back down the road in low gear to a great sea-food restaurant. The food was almost as good as that served by Kaminski Air Safaris. Having been there and done that, we received our Kaminski Air Safaris T-shirts.
Kaminski Air Safaris is no longer flying. But there are other adventures in Venezuela.
We booked our trip through
Lost World Adventures;
Decatur GA, USA, toll free in the U.S. at (800) 999-0558.
The picture of Angel Falls above and on the right is from their site.
Boris gave us a souvenir map with our route marked. It is from ITMB Publishing Ltd., (Canada) ISBN 0-921463-59-6 and was a much better map than we had from our local map store.
For general background, we like the Lonely Planet books. The first edition for Venezuela was published in October 1994. ISBN 0-86442-229-6
For more information about tepuis check out National Geographic's May 1989 issue. Have not found it online yet.
If you are going anywhere near the Yanomamo, we strongly urge you to read Yanomamo: The Fierce People (Case Studies in Cultural Anthropology) by Napoleon A. Chagnon; 5th Edition Paperback Published by Hbj College & School Div Publication date: November 1996 ISBN: 0155053272 .
Related, linked sites if you would like additional information about the area.
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Updated May 8, 2003
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