SYMPHONY OF NATURE ASSAILS CAMPERS ALONG THE AMAZON.

Byline: Terry Wilson Chicago Tribune 

Of all the sounds in the Amazon's night chorus, the enthusiastic and masculine "wow" uttered by a boat-billed heron as it digested frogs, or marveled at the night's selection, was a favorite.

Less welcome but more common was the tentative treble "zzzz" of a hundred or so mosquitoes deciding to savor our company.

And right in the middle was the "waaaa" distress call of a young speckled caiman (a crocodile-like animal) that had momentarily been lifted into our boat for photographs and a few carefully placed human touches.

As a camping trip in the rain forest drew to a close on a saunalike but starlit night, a mass of crickets trilled like distant sleighbells, frogs clicked like geiger counters over something "hot" and a common potou bird whose sad song our guide described best as "poor me, all alone" serenaded the night.

Led by guide Andrew Whittaker, a Manaus-based ornithologist, the seven of us were on a nine-night camping trip along the tea-colored Rio Negro, the largest tributary to the Amazon, the largest river in the world. (By itself, the Rio Negro is the second largest river in the world.) From there we motored to smaller and unpopulated tributaries to search for wildlife and enjoy the beauty of the forest.

Accompanied by a cook, a boatman and, for the most remote leg of the journey, a Tucano Indian guide, we rode on a low-slung and decidedly unfancy wooden boat with some of our gear stashed on the wooden sunvisor-shelf overhead.

This was an economy tour.

It was not the one for travelers who want air-conditioned cabins and padded seats or for those who would mind hopping overboard and pushing the boat off a shallow spot. It also wasn't for travelers who would have minded getting wet when the wind blew whitecapped waves from the river that was an oceanlike 330 feet deep in places.

We pitched our own tents. We smashed our own mosquitoes and bathed in all but the last river, watching as small fish leapt above the surface nearby because predatory fish, perhaps a school of piranha, were snacking below. And although the heat, humidity and buggy state of affairs were seldom far from our thoughts, we had a very good time.

Our 13-day trip started in Manaus, a duty-free port in Brazil surrounded by rain forest and accessible primarily by boat and air. It was a trip that forced us to forget out stresses and concerns and concentrate instead on what we were seeing, touching, hearing and certainly where we were sitting and standing.

Fire ants sent one traveler into the river after she found she was standing too close to their nest. Better their 10-minute sting, though, than the 24-hour bullet ants we were shown, whose bites cause pain that lasts as long as the name implies.

Whittaker showed us a wolf spider, a sturdy arachnid that measured six inches from toe to toe, and after showing us its fangs suggested we avoid getting bitten by it. No problem.

After erecting our tents that first night near some small abandoned huts purportedly built as a far-flung getaway site that was so remote it never got any guests, Whittaker took us on a short night hike and identified the critter calls we were hearing. Then he asked us to turn off our flashlights.

There we were. Nowhere. Surrounded by so many sounds and unable to see anything except the darkness and the silhouettes of the tallest trees. Amorous fireflies occasionally broke through the darkness with their taillights.

After that experience, we saw fewer settlements and fewer people. We didn't monitor how much cash we carried or how our budgets were holding up. Except for one tourist center near the Lago Janeiro National Park, there was nothing to buy.

We floated on the boat for a long river trip into the Igapo ecosystem, a black-water, flooded forest where trees live with their trunks and leaves underwater for many months of the year.

Sometimes treetops appeared to be bushes until you realized you were gliding over water 30 to 50 feet deep. Wasp nests and bird nests hung from branches and vultures circled overhead. Sometimes festive parrots broke the quiet.

Huge philodendrons grew in rings around the upper reaches of tree trunks, and vines hung like tailor threads on unfinished jackets.

We saw pink and gray river dolphins playing in the river and many other animals, but the Amazon of movie fame, replete with huge snakes and roaring big cats all over the place, was to remain hidden.

We saw a 10- to 12-foot yellow anaconda floating in water, but it had been killed by someone. We saw two jaguar pelts, but no jaguars.

"They're all shy, they're extremely well-camouflaged and they are all on the lookout for predators," Whittaker said of the absence of animals.

Skilled at bird calls and some animal calls, Whittaker enticed birds to fly overhead and a male capuchin monkey crossed several treetops to get a good look at us.

While hiking, we saw many birds and plants and learned how the spartan and complex ecosystem worked. We also learned how trees had adapted a means of letting bark and branches fall to rid themselves of vines, which can damage or kill them.

At night, we went on boat rides looking for wildlife along the riverbanks. As our boat, propelled by pole by Osvaldo, our Tucano guide, drifted silently downriver, Whittaker aimed his flashlight along the banks and in the trees, looking for creatures.

He spotted dwarf caiman by the orange glow their eyes reflected by the river's side, a boa constrictor's white eyeshine in a tree, tree frogs and night birds.

The night rides, even without views of jaguars or piglike tapirs, were high points. The fresh air, our silence and the natural sounds of the forest were a far cry from car alarms and city noise.

Another high point was a remote campsite near a small waterfall where the water was cool to the touch. When not hiking, we relaxed in the water, the only place to avoid biting flies, and dug between the boulders for sand-polished amethysts and quartz.

We heard no preachy tours about deforestation from Ecotour, the company that sponsored our trip. But we were able to see the effects firsthand, as we walked or motored past settlements where small patches of forest had been slashed and burned to make way for fruit trees. The clay earth is not good for crops, essentially losing its nutrients after three years' use. We often saw settlements that had eroded more and more of the rain forest to grow crops as more and more land became infertile.

We also saw the majesty of the forest, unhindered by humans.

On Location

For more information on Amazon trips, contact Ecotour Expeditions Inc. of Cambridge, Mass.; [phone]. The company offers the camping trips two or three times a year, generally in July and August, the end of the Brazilian winter when river water levels are high enough to permit passage.

It offers trips on larger, more comfortable boats from which groups take day hikes into the forest between the end of April and late December. The camping trip costs $1,400 plus airfare. It includes a hotel in Manaus for arriving guests and all meals on the camping trip. The other trips vary between $1,500 and $1,750 for 8- to 12-day trips.

Some tips: The insect repellent Deet is not good for you, but we used very strong Deet (70 percent to 100 percent) nonetheless. We still were bitten, but it was worse for those who didn't use Deet.

I carried the Freshette device that allows women to stand and urinate. Available at travel stores for about $18, it's worth it.

A micro-cassette tape recorder would have been nice. You will hear animal sounds and birds that will amaze you.

Binoculars are necessary to see the animals, because most are high in the treetops or at a distance. Aqua-socks, or shoes you can wear in the water, came in handy during baths and leisure swims. A good flashlight and extra batteries, sunblock and a hat for sun protection also are needed.

Other options: Jungle tours can be arranged at travel agencies in Manaus. Single-day trips along the river varied in cost from $55 and $80 per person, and the lower rate offered at one agency rose to $310 for a two-day, one-night Amazon Explorers trip.

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PHOTO[ordinal indicator, masculine]CHART

Photo Travelers pool their power to push their boat through the shallows of the Rio Negro, the Amazon's largest tributary and, in terms of area, the world's second largest river. Terry Wilson/Chicago Tribune Box On Location (see text)