As they pulled away from the pier, they all looked back at Cogo to see if anyone took note of their departure. The only person they saw was the lone man cleaning the Chickee Hut, and he didn’t bother to look in their direction.
As they had planned, they motored west as if they were going to Acalayong. Kevin advanced the throttle to half-open and was pleased at the speed. The pirogue was large and heavy but it had very little draw. He checked the canoe they had in tow; it was riding easily in the water.
The sound of the motor made conversation difficult so they were content to enjoy the scenery. The sun had yet to come up, but the sky was brighter and the eastern ends of the cumulus clouds over Gabon were edged in gold. To their right, the shoreline of Equatorial Guinea appeared as a solid mass of vegetation that abruptly dumped into the water. Dotted about the wide estuary were other pirogues moving ghostlike through the mist that still layered the surface of the water.
When Cogo had fallen significantly astern, Melanie tapped Kevin on the shoulder. Once she had his attention, she made a wide sweeping motion with her hand. Kevin nodded and began to steer the boat to the south.
After traveling south for ten minutes, Kevin began a slow turn to the west. They were now at least a mile offshore, and when they passed Cogo, it was difficult to make out specific buildings.
When the sun did finally make its appearance, it was a huge ball of reddish gold. At first, the equatorial mists were so dense that the sun could be examined directly without the need to shield one’s eyes. But the heat of the sun began to evaporate the mist which, in turn, rapidly made the sun’s rays stronger. Melanie was the first to slip on her sunglasses, but Candace and Kevin quickly did the same. A few minutes later, everyone began to peel off layers of clothing they’d donned against the comparative morning chill.
To their left was the string of islands that hugged the Equatoguinean coast. Kevin had been steering north to complete the wide circle around Cogo. Now he pushed over the helm to point the bow directly toward Isla Francesca, which loomed in the distance.
Once the mists had dissipated from the sun’s glare, a welcome breeze stirred the water, and waves began to mar the hitherto glassy surface. Pushing into a mounting headwind the pirogue began to slap against the crests, occasionally sprinkling its passengers with spray.
Isla Francesca looked different than her sister islands, and the closer they got, the more apparent it became. Besides being considerably larger, Isla Francesca’s limestone escarpment gave it a much more substantial appearance. There were even bits of cloudlike mist that clung to its summits.
An hour and fifteen minutes after they had left the pier in Cogo, Kevin cut back on the throttle and the pirogue slowed. A hundred feet ahead was the dense shoreline of the southwestern tip of Isla Francesca.
“From this vantage point it looks sort of forbidding,” Melanie yelled over the sound of the engine.
Kevin nodded. There was nothing about the island that was inviting. There was no beach. The entire shoreline appeared to be covered with dense mangroves.
“We’ve got to find Rio Diviso’s outlet,” Kevin yelled back. After approaching the mangroves as close as he thought prudent, he pushed the helm to starboard and headed along the western shore. In the lee of the island, the waves disappeared. Kevin stood up in hopes of seeing possible underwater obstructions. But he couldn’t. The water was an impenetrable muddy color.
“What about where all those bulrushes are?” Candace called out from the bow. She pointed ahead to an expansive marsh that had appeared.
Kevin nodded and cut back on the throttle even farther. He nosed the boat toward the six-foot reeds.
“Can you see any obstructions underwater?” he called out to Candace.
Candace shook her head. “It’s too murky,” she said.
Kevin turned the boat so that they were again moving parallel with the island shoreline. The reeds were dense, and the marsh now extended inland for a hundred yards.
“This must be the river outlet,” Kevin said. “I hope there is a channel or we’re out of luck. There’s no way we could get the canoe through those reeds.”
Ten minutes later, without having found a break in the reeds, Kevin turned the boat around. He was careful not to foul the towline for the small canoe.
“I don’t want to go any further in this direction,” Kevin said. “The width of the marsh is decreasing. I don’t think we’re going to find a channel. Besides, I’m afraid of getting too close to the staging area where the bridge is.”
“I agree,” Melanie said. “What about going to the other end of the island where Rio Diviso has its inlet?”
“That was exactly my thought,” Kevin said.
Melanie raised her hand.
“What are you doing?” Kevin asked.
“It’s called a high five, you jerk,” Melanie teased.
Kevin slapped her hand with his and laughed.
They motored back the way they’d come and rounded the island to head east along its length. Kevin opened up the throttle to about half speed. The route gave them a good view of the southern aspect of the island’s mountainous backbone. From that angle, no limestone was visible. The island appeared to be an uninterrupted mountain of virgin jungle.
“All I see are birds,” Melanie yelled over the sound of the engine.
Kevin nodded. He’d seen lots of ibises and shrikes.
The sun had now risen enough so that the thatched shelter was useful. They all crowded into the stern to take advantage of the shade. Candace put on some sunblock that Kevin had found in his medicine cabinet.
“Do you think the bonobos on the island are going to be as skittish as bonobos normally are?” Melanie yelled.
Kevin shrugged. “I wish I knew,” he yelled back. “If they are, it might be difficult for us to see any of them, and all this effort will have been in vain.”
“They did have diminishing contact with humans until they were there in the bonobo enclosure at the animal center,” Melanie yelled. “I think we have a good chance as long as we don’t try to get too close.”
“Are bonobos timid in the wild?” Candace asked Melanie.
“Very much so,” Melanie said. “As much or more than chimpanzees. Chimps unexposed to humans are almost impossible to see in the wild. They’re inordinately timid, and their sense of hearing and smell is so much more acute than ours that people cannot get near them.”
“Are there still truly wild areas left in Africa?” Candace asked.
“Oh, my Lord, yes!” Melanie said. “Essentially, from this coastal part of Equatorial Guinea and extending west northwest there are huge tracts that are still essentially unexplored virginal rain forest. We’re talking about as much as a million square miles.”
“How long is that going to last?” Candace questioned.
“That’s another story,” Melanie said.
“How about handing me a cold drink,” Kevin yelled.
“Coming up,” Candace said. She moved over to the Styrofoam chest and lifted the lid.
Twenty minutes later, Kevin again throttled back on the motor and turned north around the eastern end of Isla Francesca. The sun was higher in the sky and it was significantly hotter. Candace pushed the Styrofoam chest over to the port side of the pirogue to keep it in the shade.
“There’s another marsh coming up,” Candace said.
“I see it,” Kevin said.
Kevin again guided the boat in close to the shore. In terms of size, the marsh appeared to be similar to the one on the western end of the island. Once again, the jungle dropped back to approximately a hundred yards from the edge of the water.
Just when Kevin was about to announce that they had again been foiled, an opening appeared in the otherwise unremitting wall of reeds.
Kevin turned the canoe toward the opening and throttled back even more. The boat slowed. About thirty feet away, Kevin put the motor into neutral and then turned it off.
As the sound of the engine di
ed off, they were thrust into a heavy stillness.
“God, my ears are ringing,” Melanie complained.
“Does it look like a channel?” Kevin asked Candace, who’d again gone up to the bow.
“It’s hard to tell,” Candace said.
Kevin grabbed the back of the motor and tilted it up out of the water. He didn’t want to foul the propeller in underwater vegetation.
The pirogue entered among the reeds. It scraped against the stems, then glided to a halt. Kevin reached behind the boat to keep the towed canoe from banging into the pirogue’s stern.
“It looks like it goes forward in a meandering fashion,” Candace said. She was standing on the gunwale and holding onto the thatched roof of the shelter so she could see over the top of the reeds.
Kevin snapped off a stem and broke it into small pieces. He tossed them into the water next to the boat and watched them. They drifted slowly but inexorably in the direction they were pointing.
“There seems to be some current,” Kevin said. “I think that’s a good sign. Let’s give it a try with the canoe.” Kevin moved the smaller boat alongside the larger.
With difficulty because of the canoe’s unsteadiness, they managed to get themselves into the smaller boat along with their gear and the food chest. Kevin sat in the stern while Candace took the bow. Melanie sat in the middle but not on one of the seats. Canoes made her nervous; she preferred to sit on the bottom.
By a combination of paddling, pulling on reeds, and pulling on the pirogue, they managed to get ahead of the larger boat. Once in what they hoped was the channel, the going was considerably easier.
With Kevin paddling in the rear and Candace in the front they were able to move at the pace of a slow walk. The narrow six-foot-wide passage twisted and turned as it worked its way across the marsh. The sun was now evidencing its equatorial power even though it was only eight o’clock in the morning. The reeds blocked the breeze, effectively raising the temperature even higher.
“There’re not many trails on this island,” Melanie commented. She’d unfolded the contour map and was studying it.
“The main one is from the staging area to Lago Hippo,” Kevin said.
“There are a few more,” Melanie said. “All leading away from Lago Hippo. I suppose they’d been made to facilitate retrievals.”
“That would be my guess,” Kevin said.
Kevin looked into the dark water. He could see strands of plant life trailing in the direction they were paddling, suggesting there was current. He was encouraged.
“Why don’t you try the locator?” Kevin said. “See if bonobo number sixty has moved since we last checked.”
Melanie entered the information and clicked.
“He doesn’t appear to have moved,” she said. She reduced the scale until it was equivalent to the scale on the contour map, then located the red dot. “He’s still in the same spot in the marshy clearing.”
“At least we can solve that mystery, even if we don’t see any of the others,” Kevin said.
Ahead, they approached the hundred-foot-high wall of jungle. As they rounded the final bend in the marsh, they could see the channel disappear into the riot of vegetation.
“We’ll be in shade in a moment,” Candace said. “That should make it a lot cooler.”
“Don’t count on it,” Kevin said.
Pushing branches to the side, they silently slid into the perpetual darkness of the forest. Contrary to Candace’s hopes it was like a muggy, claustrophobic hot house. There was not a breath of air, and everything dripped moisture. Although the thick canopy of tree limbs, twisted vines, and hanging mosses completely blocked the sunlight, it also held in the heat like a heavy woolen blanket. Some of the leaves were up to a foot in diameter. Everyone was shocked by how dark it was in the tunnel of vegetation until their eyes began to adjust. Slowly details appeared out of the dank gloom until the scene resembled late twilight just before nightfall.
Almost from the moment the first branches snapped in place behind them, they were assaulted by swarms of insects: mosquitoes, deer flies, and trigona bees. Melanie frantically located the insect repellant. After dousing herself, she passed it to the others.
“It smells like a damn swamp,” Melanie complained.
“This is scary,” Candace commented from her position in the bow. “I just saw a snake, and I hate snakes.”
“As long as we stay in the boat, we’ll be fine,” Kevin said.
“So, let’s not tip over,” Melanie said.
“Don’t even suggest it!” Candace moaned. “You guys have to remember I’m a newcomer. You’ve been in this part of the world for years.”
“All we have to worry about are the crocs and hippos,” Kevin said. “When you see one, let me know.”
“Oh, great!” Candace complained nervously. “And just what do we do when we see one?”
“I didn’t mean to worry you,” Kevin said. “I don’t think we’ll see any until we come to the lake.”
“And what then?” Candace questioned. “Maybe I should have asked about the dangers of this trip before I signed on.”
“They won’t bother us,” Kevin said. “At least that’s what I’ve been told. As long as they are in the water, all we have to do is stay a reasonable distance away. It’s when they’re caught on land that they can be unpredictably aggressive, and both crocs and hippos can run faster than you’d think.”
“All of a sudden, I’m not enjoying this at all,” Candace admitted. “I thought it was going to be fun.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be a picnic,” Melanie said. “We’re not sightseeing. We’re here for a reason.”
“Let’s just hope we’re successful,” Kevin said. He could appreciate Candace’s state of mind. Kevin marveled that he’d been talked into coming himself.
Besides the insects, the dominant wildlife were the birds. They ceaselessly flitted among the branches, filling the air with melodies.
On either side of the channel the forest was impenetrably dense. Only occasionally could Kevin or the others see for more than twenty feet in any direction. Even the shoreline was invisible, hidden behind a tangle of water plants and roots.
As he paddled Kevin looked down into the inky water that was covered with a plethora of darting water spiders. The disturbance he caused with each stroke made fetid bubbles rise to the surface.
The channel soon became straighter than it had been in the marsh, making the paddling considerably easier. By observing the rate at which they floated by the passing tree trunks, Kevin estimated that they were moving at about the speed of a fast walk. At this rate, he figured they’d arrive at the Lago Hippo in ten to fifteen minutes.
“How about putting the locator on scan?” Kevin suggested to Melanie. “If you narrow the graphic to this area, we’ll know if there are any bonobos in the neighborhood.”
Melanie was huddled over the compact computer, when there was a sudden commotion in the branches to their left. A moment later, deeper into the forest, they heard twigs snapping.
Candace had a hand clasped to her chest. “Oh my,” she said. “What the hell was that?”
“I’d guess another one of those duikers,” Kevin said. “Those little antelopes are common even on these islands.”
Melanie redirected her attention to the locator. Soon she was able to report that there were no bonobos in the area.
“Of course not,” Kevin said. “That would have been too easy.”
Twenty minutes later, Candace reported that she could see a lattice of sunlight coming through the branches directly ahead.
“That must be the lake,” Kevin said.
After a few more paddle strokes, the canoe glided out into the open water of Lago Hippo. The trio blinked in the bright sunlight, then scrambled for their sunglasses.
The lake was not large. In fact, it was more like an elongated pond dotted with several lushly thicketed islands chock-a-block with white ibises. The shore was lined with dense reeds. He
re and there on the surface of the lake were pure white water lilies. Patches of free-floating vegetation thick enough to allow small birds to walk across them turned lazily in slow circles, pushed by the gentle breezes.
The wall of surrounding forest dropped away on both sides to form grassy fields, some as big as an acre. A few of these fields were peppered with pockets of palm trees. To the left, above the line of the forest rim, the very top of the limestone escarpment was clearly discernible against the hazy morning sky.
“It’s actually quite beautiful,” Melanie said.
“It reminds me of paintings of prehistoric times,” Kevin said. “I could almost imagine a couple of brontosauruses in the foreground.”
“Oh my God, I see hippos over to the left!” Candace called out with alarm. She pointed with her paddle.
Kevin looked in the direction she was indicating. Sure enough, the heads and small ears of a dozen of these huge mammals were just visible in the water. Standing on their crowns were a number of white birds preening.
“They’re okay,” Kevin assured Candace. “See how they are slowly moving away from us. They won’t be any trouble.”
“I’ve never been much of a nature lover,” Candace admitted.
“You don’t have to explain,” Kevin said. He could remember clearly his unease about wildlife during his first year in Cogo.
“According to the map, there should be a trail not too far away from the left bank,” Melanie said, while studying the contour map.
“If I remember correctly, there’s a trail that goes around the whole eastern end of the lake,” Kevin said. “It originates at the bridge.”
“That’s true, but it comes closest to our left,” Melanie said.
Kevin angled the canoe toward the left shore and began looking for an opening in the reeds. Unfortunately, there wasn’t one.
“I think we’ll just have to try to paddle right through the vegetation,” Kevin said.
“I’m certainly not getting out of this boat until there’s dry land,” Melanie announced.
Kevin told Candace not to paddle as he aimed the canoe at the six-foot-high wall of reeds and took a number of forceful strokes. To everyone’s surprise, the boat skimmed through the vegetation with no trouble at all, despite the scraping noise of the reeds on the hull. Sooner than they expected, they bumped against dry land.