An unknown land of head hunters; an inhospitable place where cartographers confused the courses of rivers and left the outlines of the reliefs to their imagination. The Upano River is a tributary of the Amazon born in the foothills of one of the most active volcanoes in the world – the Sangay. This river kept the Inca and Spanish intruders away from these lands of legends. 

It was the year 1992 when, with my friend Peter Grubb and his rafting guides from the ROW company, we would try to make the first descent through the Upano and Namangoza rivers. An overflight would be the only way to see if it was possible to carry out this expedition. From the air, you could see the river like an anaconda between the Andes and the Cutucú mountain range. However, nightfall was approaching and the pilot decided to return to Macas. Upon arrival, the director of the missionary air service told us that “the only ones who had come down that river were the dead.” 

Two rafts navigated through more questions than certainties, but determination rather than fear led us to overcome each of the rapids. It was not the water making its way through the rocks that stopped us, but the 20 indigenous Shuar strategically positioned with rifles on a suspension bridge. After negotiating and guaranteeing that we would not look for the fat on their bodies, a myth that spread faster than the wind and would remain for many years in the jungle, they allowed us to continue along that silty riverbed that shifts in color when it meets the Negro River – our point of no return. 

The rafts would become like fragile paper canoes before the immensity of the Namangoza, in a canyon that would not let us escape through its steep walls covered with vegetation and waterfalls that rushed through our course. There were, however, moments of calm that allowed us to appreciate the beauty of the Amazon rainforest and its intricate ecosystem. The rest of the time we had to communicate with each other hurriedly, hoping that the decisions we made were correct. The currents guided us in the right direction. 

The rafting portion of our journey took four days of sailing, exploring, charting each rapid, learning, and sharing fears and joys. Then, the waters finally slowed down. We floated, the adrenaline disappearing from our bodies almost as quickly as it came, and felt the fatigue of several days of expedition, sun, rain, humidity. Finally, it was time to savor our first descent of these fantastic rivers; some of the most beautiful in South America. We achieved a new navigation route, and thus South Expeditions was born.