The caiman magic trick

We were looking for eyes. That is how you spot a caiman at night, the reflection of its eyes at the surface, so Steffi and I were hunched low in a canoe-shaped boat on a black Amazon river, staring into the water while the engine grumbled behind us.

It was our first night in the jungle, deep enough in that our lodge only had electricity for a few hours each evening. A few hours earlier we had watched the sunset paint a fire rainbow onto the clouds while the horizon turned purple, and after dinner we headed out onto the river to hunt for caimans. At the front of the boat sat Edwin, our guide, a Peruvian man in his thirties. He had already proven himself an absolute pro at spotting animals camouflaged in the trees, so when he said we could find caimans in the dark, we believed him.

The river at night was a different animal to the river in the day. Bats swooped and hunted around the boat, and bugs flew straight into our faces, which was annoying in a way no documentary ever prepares you for. Earlier that day the boat had pushed through extremely tall grass and collected a cargo of spiders, so in the dark I was less worried about caimans than about what might be crawling over my feet. We also had to be careful not to rock the boat too much, because it was narrow enough that too much enthusiasm might capsize it. In other words, we were paying attention to everything except our guide’s hands.

Then there were the fireflies. Hundreds of them. The females sat on the water holding a constant light while the males flashed and flew around above them, so the river had its own set of stars, one layer glowing steadily on the surface and another blinking in the air.

Edwin explained all of this from the front of the boat, the steady lights and the flashing ones, while we watched the display around us. And then, in the same easy tone, he said something like, now, see this caiman I caught, and turned on his head torch.

He was holding a live baby caiman.

Neither of us had seen or heard a thing. It was pitch dark, the engine was loud, and at some point while we were staring at fireflies he had leaned over the bow, reached into the river, and caught a caiman with his bare hands. It remains the best magic trick I have ever seen, performed in the dark with no stage, no assistant, and a live reptile as the prop.

The caiman was about forty centimetres long, and I thought it was instantly, unexpectedly cute. Its tail was huge compared to its body, like the rest of it hadn’t caught up yet, and it had big caiman eyes that did it no harm in the cuteness department. Its skin felt leathery and rough but a little squishy underneath, like a balloon, and it stayed calm the whole time, breathing slowly in our hands.

Steffi was not so sure. In the torchlight it looked like a snake to her, and she was worried it would bite, but Edwin passed it to her slowly and safely, and once she was actually holding it, feeling it breathe, the fear drained away and it became cuter by the second. We took photos with it, and then Edwin returned it to the river.

He told us they get much bigger, and he was hoping to find us one more like sixty to eighty centimetres. We were fully on board with this plan. Ten minutes earlier we had been nervous about spiders on our feet, and now we were hoping our guide would haul a bigger predator out of the water for us. For a moment it seemed like he had one, but it escaped, and that was that.

By then the sky had properly opened up. The stars over the river that night were the best of our entire trip so far, the real ones above and the firefly ones still glowing on the water below. Edwin pointed out one more caiman in the water, another baby, and I caught a glimpse of its tail before it was gone.

Back at the lodge, the jungle had one last trick ready. As we came in, a frog dropped from the roof like a ninja and jump scared the both of us, and then, as we approached, it launched itself off the balcony and landed somewhere several metres below. We stood there in the dark, hearts still going, staring at the empty railing where it had been.

Based on 22.02, Amazon (Peru).