The trees grew tall and shady with their roots firmly planted well below the surface of the cool placid waters of the Pokerero Creek, a tributary of the Demerara River. The sound of unseen twittering birds filled the verdant environment with music.

The water, a clear light brown, seemed to be stagnant but at times displayed a lethargic flow, reflecting the neighbouring flora, with here and there glimpses of the azure sky and accompanying white fluffy clouds – a paradise for the landscape artist.

It must have been a similar scene that the poet Alfred Lord Tennyson experienced to inspire his immortal words: There is sweet music here that softer falls than petals, from blown roses on the grass. And to complete the pastoral picture, there was I, alone in the kayak, cruising down the river releasing tons of stress with every stroke of the paddle.

I had left Georgetown, Guyana, about seven that morning with a small group of adventure loving friends headed for the Arrowpoint Nature Resort, a small settlement hidden in Amerindian territory up the Kumani creek, a tributary of the Demerara river, (Remember when they say “creek” in Guyana, we say “river”.)

Our first stop was at Hope Town, a few miles before you reach Timehri International airport. There on the east bank of the Demerara, after having donned lifejackets we boarded a pirogue to boat our way across the very wide river in order to head up its tributary, the Kumani creek.

Once we started going up the creek life became different. Here we entered what looked like virgin forest. There was no evidence of human existence for many a kilometre, save for the inhabitants of our boat, with the only audible sound being the monotonous clattering noise of the outboard engine and the constant splash of the bow ploughing through the waters.

Occasionally, above the unnatural, disturbing artificial reverberations could be heard the voice of a bird, probably signalling to nearby similar species that the noisy invaders are once again invading their territory.

After about fifteen minutes of this upstream drive we espied coming in the opposite direction a small boat, and as it approached we could decipher what looked like a well dressed family probably on their way to church, for this was Sunday and they were dressed in Sunday best.

From their features I could guess they were Amerindians and probably from the Arawak tribe for I was informed that the dwellers in these parts are descendants of the Arawaks. They offered a friendly wave and we reciprocated in like manner.

Further upstream we came upon the first visible Amerindian settlement and could count only two houses. Here on the riverside we saw some children enjoying themselves swimming in the creek (river) supervised by two female adults, one with a baby in hand. They seemed to be happy to see other humans for they waved lustily at us and so we returned the compliment.

With the Arawak guide in the forest.

Kayaking down the Kumani creek

The journey continued on in a very cool atmosphere for though there was a burning sun in the sky, we the boat people were sheltered from the scorching rays by the dense forest which flanked us on both sides and was so close that we were able to touch some of the branches of the trees that grew in the water.

Indeed this is the first time that I saw such large forest trees standing so comfortably in water. Needless to say there were unending clumps of bamboo with their fronds forming a welcome arch over the waterway.

And so we journeyed on for another half hour or more enjoying the natural beauty of the tropical vegetation, appropriately complemented and enhanced by the happy whistling of the birds. Yes, on one occasion I did see one of these winged forest dwellers dive into the water in quest of its brunch.

Here the thought came to me that the Garden of Eden must have had a stream like this flowing through its celestial valleys but with the birds there would have been angels diving into the milk and honey which replaced the streaming water. 

Eventually we came out of the forest and were able to recognise in the distance a small settlement comprising a group of wooden structures, a main building behind which was located a few cabins, all on the bank of the Kumani. This was the Arrowpoint Nature Resort, our destination.

Hardly out of the boat, after a quick refreshing drink, we were on land and into a forest trail with a guide who informed us that he was Arawak. We trekked for a little more than a half an hour through towering tropical forest. Here the trees grew straight and very tall all in a frenzied search for the sunlight.

The very knowledgeable guide was able to identify for us the various trees and enlighten us on the medicinal purpose of each. After this informative, interesting and tiring journey we came once again upon the creek and found out that our return voyage would be in kayaks.

And so in pairs, some with a guide, we began to kayak our way back to the resort. There was one kayak smaller than the rest that could take only one passenger and I thought that this would be the one for me.

And so with a tune of yesteryear in my head I boarded my water vessel and began humming Cruising down the river on a Sunday Afternoon while slowly paddling my way down the tranquil waters, feeling totally stress-free, relaxing under the overhanging luxuriant bows, intoxicated by the soothing sounds emanating form the breast of mother nature.

Every created splendour looked so friendly and the hand of the Almighty Father was so visible that I knew that this had to be a foretaste of heaven. Need I say more?

It was the poet John Keats who penned, Do not all charms fly at the mere touch of cold philosophy? Thus after this languid cruise in what to me was a celestial vessel I had to reawaken to the philosophy of today’s world… back to civilisation.

To sum up, it was back on land, then enjoy the return boat journey and bus ride to Georgetown, to once again experience what we mortals call the real world.