Out of Captivity : Surviving 1,967 Days in the Colombian Jungle

312 OUT OF CAPTIVITYwhite water. Rather than risk running the rapids, we would get out ofthe boats and walk along trails that the FARC had clearly been using foryears. In the less tempestuous waters, a few of us would remain in theboat and run the rapid while the others walked and were then pickedup again. At times we abandoned the boats altogether because the waterwas too low. The FARC seemed to know exactly where these spotswere and anticipated them. Sometimes we would travel on foot for afew hours, sometimes for several days, before we got back in differentboats that were tied up and waiting for us. Those coordinated effortswere a far cry from Milton’s meanderings.As I pilot, I admire anyone who can handle any kind of craft withskill. When we’d been on boats before, the pilots simply bashed theirway through any obstacle. They couldn’t do that with the rocks and rapids.Our pilot didn’t seem like a FARC member. His long hair, whichhung down his back, and his goatee gave him a rock-star look. He wasa big guy, and like Rogelio, he was difficult to understand. What littlebits we did pick up indicated to us that he was a true revolutionary convert.His nickname, Mantequillo, loosely translated to Butter Boy. Keithcouldn’t resist needling our chubby boat driver. He kept asking why allthe boat drivers were overweight and if he had been stealing instead ofdelivering the food supplies. Butter Boy didn’t laugh at that. He tookhis job seriously and swallowed the whole FARC reformation-of-thecountryideology in large quantities.Despite its better organization, this new group still managed to keepthings as surreal as ever. One night toward the end of our ride down theriver one of the older female guerrillas serenaded us with anti-Americanpropaganda songs. As this came to end, we were struggling to findan entrance to a camp just off the water. The foliage and vegetationwere so thick that even with their spotlights, the FARC couldn’t findthe entry point to the tributary. At one camp, we’d all seen the cheaphorror flick Leprechaun and one of the new guerrillas was a spitting imageof the evil dwarf of the title. He was a bit of a know-it-all and a chain