Captains courageous

Update 6

AmazonQuest is an interactive expedition developed by Classroom Connect. For five weeks, a team of scientists and explorers are examining one of the most distinctive and most threatened environments on Earth: the Amazon River basin.

Friday was the one of the scariest days of Emily's life.

The team crosses the river single file to avoid stepping on stingrays.

The team woke to a light rain tapping on our tents. We crawled outside, pulled on cold, wet clothes and huddled together for breakfast. We chased down mushy oatmeal with gulps of river water, flavored with Zuko, an iridescent Peruvian Kool-Aid. As we ate, drizzle turned to a steady rain.

On the one hand, this was good. Perhaps the rain would lift the river and carry us faster downstream. For almost a week, we'd mostly dragged our boats, covering less than a mile per hour. On the other hand, we somehow had to get $100,000 worth of delicate electronics out of our tents and into the canoes, which were already filling fast with rainwater.

We secured the electronics in "waterproof" cases, wrapped the rest of our gear in garbage bags and clomped through mud to our canoes. We piled them high with luggage and topped it all with tarps. Meanwhile, rain poured.

For speed, six team members would walk along the shore as Nick, David and guides ferried luggage downstream. Meanwhile, the river swelled.

I led the team walking downstream. We made it perhaps a quarter of a mile before the rising water stranded us on a crust of sand. The river ran milky brown, like Nestle's Quik, and teemed with piranhas and venomous stingrays.

VIDEO View the team's daily movie feature on the AmazonQuest site Play video (QuickTime, Real or Windows Media)   EXTRA INFORMATION AmazonQuest  from Classroom Connect     AmazonQuest Get more on AmazonQuest from the scrollbox below MORE REPORTS Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10 Day 11 Day 12 Day 13 Day 14 Day 15 Day 16 Day 17 Day 18 Day 19 Day 20 Day 21 Day 22 Day 23

"This is totally not cool," Emily shouted over the pouring rain. Just then, a bolt of lightning hit a tree 200 yards away with a thunderous crack.

Moments later, the loaded canoes rounded the bend, top-heavy with luggage, looking like a popped tin of Jiffy Pop. Suddenly, one of the guides shouted, "Run!" On the opposing bank, the river had eroded the soil under a huge tree. As the riverbank gave way, the tree crashed into the river just a few feet away from us.

I needed to make decisions. In addition to lightning and falling trees, Tom and Emily were purple-lipped and shivering violently-the first signs of hypothermia. They wrapped themselves in a plastic tarp and embraced each other to keep warm. Their insect-bitten legs quivered under the plastic.

We could push on, and try to walk along the river's edge, which would mean regular river crossings. I looked over at my brother Nick in the boat, his festering stingray wound wrapped in muddy gauze. No, walking wasn't an option.

I considered getting into the boats and navigating the raging river. But I remembered David describing river entrapment. "Imagine the branches of a fallen tree as a spaghetti strainer and the entire force of the river pinning down the spaghetti…And you're the spaghetti!" No, riding the river didn't seem to be an option either.

"Let's pitch the tents and wait out the rain," I proposed.

Our guides agreed but pointed out that it could rain for days. They also said that this beach would soon be underwater. We'd have to look for higher ground.

We set off in canoes. The furious river shot us along, bucking us over rapids, slamming us into curves and careening us precariously close to fallen "spaghetti strainer" trees. The river's edge was a green corridor of snarled jungle, offering no place to stop. We pressed on.

At one point, the current pushed Nick's canoe into a protruding log. The canoes' lead edge caught it and flipped. Backpacks, electronic cases, Nick, David, and I were suddenly floating downstream. Our guides caught the equipment and the three of us managed pull ourselves out of the water. We were wet and cold; much of our equipment was ruined, and we still had no place to stop.

For the next half-hour, we floated smoothly downstream until the second disaster hit. This time, a lead canoe got stuck where the river bottlenecked. Nick back-paddled to avoid it, which caused the next canoe to slam into ours. We spun out of control.

Nick, heroically, leaped out of the canoe to keep us from tipping but the river's force sucked him under the canoe and into the spaghetti strainer. I saw my brother disappear for what felt like an infinity. A few horrifying moments later, his head popped out of the water but the river pinned Nick in the branches.

John hauls bags to the boat in the driving rain.

As I write this, I'm sitting at a candlelight table at the Manu Wildlife Center. We've taken hot showers, and eaten a delicious meal. Once we untangled Nick, the rain let up. The engorged river had propelled us 30 kilometers (18.5 miles) downstream and onto the rustic elegance of this lodge.

With the exception of destroyed electronics, the whole team is safe. Emily is now sitting down the table from me, sipping a cup of tea.

Yes, it was the scariest day of her life but she'd do it again in a heartbeat. The next time she'd wear a raincoat.

Paddles up,

Dan Buettner, expedition leader