TEACHING THE NEXT GENERATION OF AMAZON GUIDES

Class in Session

Anglers come to Brazil’s Rio Marié for Cichla temensis, the largest of the 16 peacock bass species.
Anglers come to Brazil’s Rio Marié for Cichla temensis, the largest of the 16 peacock bass species. But Cichla ocellaris—more commonly called the butterfly peacock bass—shouldn’t be overlooked. 
Words, Photos and Captions: Jess McGlothlin

It’s on day two of fishing the tannin-tinted waters of the Rio Marié in northwestern Brazil that I begin to understand why the river has earned the nickname “Rio de Gigantes,” or “River of Giants.” My boatmate, an affable, talented angler named Breno Ballesteros Rezende, is about to land his second big Cichla temensis, the largest species of peacock bass. Our guide, Carlos Moreira, manages the day with a calm, level composure and quick wit that have made the hot morning hours soar by. He’s perched on the bow with the net, about to capture Breno’s nearly 20-pound peacock.

This would be paradise for any angler. We’re on the upper end of the river, 600 miles from the nearest non-Indigenous settlement, and Breno and I caught 26 butterfly peacock bass our first hour on the water. Warm-up done, we’ve set our sights on the real trophy of the river: Cichla temensis, the “big boys and girls.” Carlos is game. It’s his first season as a “pro guide” at Rio Marié and, after spending years working as a native guide alongside the pro guides (typically Brazilians or, in a few cases, Argentines), he’s ready. He’s one of two guides who are the first from local native communities to have graduated to pro guide status, and by day two of fishing with him I’ve slotted him high on my list of top guides around the world.

There are skill sets that are difficult to teach someone not from a given area. Some things only locals understand. Having worked at fishing lodges around the world, this is a thing I readily acknowledge. I’ll never know the tides in Belize like an Ambergris Caye islander, nor the salmon runs on the Kola Peninsula like someone born in Murmansk. And I could never really understand the Rio Marié—and these peacock bass—like Carlos.

Back to Issue 17.3