Sometime in mid-afternoon we headed back to Callao. Everyone was happy for the rest and the snacks that the crew provided.
Halfway back to shore disaster struck. We could hear the calling from below. “Where is Alfredo? Has anybody seen Alfredo? These shouts grew in intensity, and we could hear a great scurrying about. We certainly knew that something was amiss.
The captain then came down from the helm and talked to us.
“One of the crew brought on to do chumming seems to be missing. We have looked everywhere on board and couldn’t find him. I am afraid he has gone overboard. Worse than that, he probably wasn’t wearing a life jacket.”
He went on, “Our course is logged on GPS. I am going to turn around and retrace our course back out to the current and then turn around again and retrace our path back to here. I need every eye to be on the water searching for Alfredo.”
We all agreed that this sounded like a sensible plan, although I did hear one guy grumbling that, “He was going to be late for dinner”.
The captain executed his plan at a relatively slow speed. Alas, Alfredo was never found.
I wish it weren’t so.
Our group continued our tour to Iquitos and the Peruvian Amazon, but the loss of Alfredo was in my mind the whole time.
The thoughts wouldn’t leave me, “To risk a life just to see some God damn birds. What am I doing?”
So, the 564 species that I saw along with the 68 new birds seemed like so much dross.
I wish it weren’t so.