Nova Olinda do Norte

Tuesday 7th June 1988

I awoke on the floor, having decided that it was damn near impossible to get back into my hammock when I returned from an early morning piss. There were suspended intertwined sleeping bodies hanging everywhere in this hammock “dormitory”.

After breakfast of coffee and dry crackers, although margarine was available, we docked at a town of Nova Olinda do Norte(?). Sweepers in broad-brimmed sun hats swept the steep concrete loading ramp. Passengers swarmed ashore to buy snacks and treats to supplement the monotonous shipboard menu.

The town had a nice plaza with a blue and white church which made it look like a cake decorated with icing sugar. The shops stocked only dried and tinned goods, not anything readily edible.

Back on the boat I started to write my diary but couldn't concentrate for long as my sunburned chest began to itch insanely. I had a shower which didn’t seem to make much difference, and then laid in my hammock until the maddening itch faded away.

Lunch was the usual rice, spaghetti, and chicken. They must have run out of beans. I wrote my diary as the jungle chugged relentlessly by. It was like being on the fictional United States Navy PBR (Patrol Boat, Riverine) on the Nùng River in “Apocalypse Now”.

The domino players slammed their tiles as noisily as possible on the dining table. I read my book and idled in my hammock, watching the distant storm clouds move across the jungle until it got too dark to see anymore. I went to bed early and slept better as I was becoming accustomed to the hammock. Even so I would wake up every few hours with numb feet which a walk/crawl under the hammock array to the rank toilet usually put right and also relieved the pressure on my bladder.