Midnight was ringing when I arrived in Balbina’s lake. In the village even the dogs were quiet.The full moon illuminates the peaceful waters, silently Nildo my guide and I get on the boat to head on Ilha do Jeff (Jeff’s Island) a well known and remote lodge that has the favour of sports fishermen. 30 minutes ride and no web or cell phone working over there, the real life is about to begin..

6h30 AM – Nildo and I are slaloming through the dead boles that fluffs skyline. Balbina’s most desperate and spectacular ecological disaster is facing us. 30 years ago in order to create energy to feed the growing Manaus city, the state decided to create a dam. Acres of forest has been burned, cut out and finally drawn to give birth to one inland sea with 3000 islands : Balbina’s lake, 2000km square!  A professional fisherman confess me that once he get lost during three days in there, unwilling to eat raw his own catch..

At last the real deal is about to begin ! Peacocks where are you ? Nildo show me a big stump in the water that could be home of a big peacock. My popper fly was already whistling in the air, I shoot and few strips but unfortunately nothing happen. Second cast, I am believing in it like a portuguese missionary freshly arrived… in Amazonas ! I am double hauling crazy, then shoot but Schtoong a big messy tangled stuff banged on my rod. What the hell ? I disentangle with a bad feeling.. many curls can be spotted on the shooting line. Is Mister Loose about to sneak into my first fishing day in Amazonas ?

After tons of rain in the morning, the afternoon is absolutely burned by a strong sun. I have to put multi layers of sun cream and of course I did forgot that I promise Betinho when he lent me a fishing rod that I wouldn’t take off the plastic’s grip. Just give a try once, make a double haul with a slippy hand under a 100°F heat… This time the nightmare is really beginning. I feel almost sad, and terribly on edge.

Once again I can tell that fly fishing is not an exploration technique. Picture you fly rod in hand on a 2000km square lake full of dead trees all around : where to cast first ? A good baitcasting rod would have been way better… Also I have to take care of my hurting arm. Nildo is now looking for the Peacock family, father mother and babies. We can spot them with nervous waters. The game is to throw something in the middle of it or close and stimulate the protection instinct. Sometimes they just hit the intruder, sometimes they swallow it.

Here is one of those nervous waters over there. With a nervous tension that should normally throw me right into psychiatric hospital I tend to shoot my fly close to the fishes. Too scared to have a tangle problem I glimpse on my feet, while stripping, to check that nothing is going wrong with my bloody shooting line. At the same time I can hear a splash and in a second I pull blindly the line to feel a running fish. Even if it is not a specimen the rush is strong. What a relief !

The joy is bigger when the fish appears close to the surface. OMG ! what a fish ! The colours my friend ! You understand that you are in a country that cherish carnival ! It has to be seen to believe in it ! Yellow, green, some blue fins and those big round eyes ! What a beauty ! This one was maybe 3 lbs but the emotion is as big as the fish beautiful. This is a paradise postcard, a museum painting that I release with a smile. Looking at my painful curly line I tend to gain some confidence for my second fishing day.