The ferry to Santarém leaves in a couple of hours, enough time for last-minute shopping. One of the pannier padlocks has gone missing. After circling the area for 20 minutes, I found a hole-in-the-wall hardware store near the ferry terminal. I made a questionable parking decision, squeezing the bike into a smallish space on a steep grade.  While looking padlocks I heard the crash of the bike falling over. Did someone passing by bump the bike? I’ll never know. One thing was certain, the windshield was broken into several large pieces. Damn. I wasn’t happy with the wind noise coming off the top of the windshield, but it was better than nothing. No time to worry about it now. The ferry would be loading soon.

In 2012 I took a slow barge across the Amazon for two days from Macapá to Belém, near the river delta as the Amazon empties into the Caribbean. A ferry is more upscale, costs a little more, and takes less time. Ten years back I wasn’t in a hurry and enjoyed the slow boat approach. For the next few months, I was on a schedule and didn’t consider searching a barge to get me downriver. 

Time to get on board. Motorcycles roll onto the ferry after the trucks and cars are loaded. Motorcycles fill leftover spaces. Securing the bike with straps looped around hooks on the ceiling took a few minutes. There is no certainty of security at the vehicle level, so everything comes off the bike. Took the stairs up a level to the sleeping area I set up my hammock next to another traveler, a female Brazilian backpacker. It was comforting to have a fellow traveler watch my luggage when I needed to step away. My thinking, ferries are for people who can’t afford a flight or perhaps they just need to transport a vehicle. I never had a problem, but believe vigilance is best.

After setting the hammock, I explored the upper levels. Food would be served one level up and the top floor had a snack counter, beer sales, and the option of paying for internet access. Sweet. I was cautioned in 2012 that ferries are filled with crying babies and drunks. I soon met a group of Brazilians determined to drink beer all day and all night. At first, they were friendly, amusing, and harmless. By day two they were loud, tiresome, then flat-out obnoxious. Oh well.

Immediately east of Manaus, the upper Amazon and Rio Negro merge. The Rio Negro is muddy compared to the upper Amazon. Due to the enormous volume, the rivers fully mix over 100 km downstream. It was so cool to see the two waters slowly turning into one. 
TIP: For the best view of separate river colors, get to the top level and back of the boat as you are leaving the port of Manaus.

My backpacker friend and I talked for a long time with an extended Syrian family. They fled the instability of Syria and were temporarily living in French Guiana until they could work out a country that would accept them. I took a group photo on the upper deck. Given their precarious political status, I can’t share the photo here. The internet can be used to haunt innocents trying to make a better life.

Two-thirds of the way to Santarém the ferry stopped in Parintins at dawn to discharge and take on new passengers. By mid-evening on the second day we reached Santarém. The crew wouldn’t let me go to the vehicle level with time to reload the bike, then they were pressuring me to get out of the way and off the boat. The backpacker was headed to a hostel in Santarém where she would be a volunteer. Hostels exchange working for half a day for meals and a bed. She was working her way around Brazil volunteering here and there. I would meet more hotel volunteers a few weeks later. I didn’t have a lodging plan, so once the bike was off the ferry I pointed her to the same hostel. The common room and kitchen were open-air. The climate never gets too cold. All that is needed is a roof. 

In the morning I walked around the sandy waterfront then left for my next destination, Fordlandia.