A Look Through the Eyes of a Freshwater Amazonian Manatee

My flippers propelling me forward at a slow pace, I began my daily routine of floating around and eating constantly. I noticed the water was the perfect temperature, around 85 degrees Fahrenheit, as I drifted along through the dark water. I loved the lake I was living in now, it had plenty of vegetation, floating vegetables and aquatic plants; it was much better than the lagoon I had lived in before. It was perfect. The water was grayish-black, called blackwater, which had been colored dark by drainage from the forest. My new home also had a deep, slow-moving river which allowed me to explore whenever I felt like being adventurous - which wasn't often. My life was not very exciting, but it was perfect for a small manatee, and as long as I had food and room to swim about, I was content. This morning I was alone, as usual, for manatees are naturally solitary animals. Floating upwards, I let my nostrils break the surface and filled my lungs with the humid air of the Amazon Rainforest. Absentmindedly, I began nibbling on a water lily, my nimble lips helping the small plant into my mouth like fingers. One after another, the water lilies were eaten. I was about to eat one last plant when I became alerted that something was wrong.

I froze. A strange noise reverberated through the water; a noise I had never heard before. Afraid of what might be coming my way, I dove deeper into the water, awaiting the foreign animal that produced the strange growling noise. Searching through the murky water, I strained my eyes, but couldn't distinguish the looming shape at the surface of the water which continued to grow larger and larger. Then, the noise stopped and the large animal slowed to a halt, floating silently on top of the water. After waiting many minutes, my curiosity overtook my fear and I cautiously swam toward the dark shape. It was not like any animal I had ever seen in my short life. It was smooth and perfectly rounded, even shiny. It extended out of the water and bobbed on top of it with a large, four-pronged, metallic tail at the end of its body. The closer I got to it, the more I could tell that it was dead. There was no movement, no sign of life, no heartbeat. Just cold.

Suddenly, the growling returned. The large tail began to rotate and the dead animal began to move forward. I was swept away, lost in a swirl of bubbles, I tumbled along waiting for the crazy ride to end.

Stunned, I floated in the water, pondering the strange creature that had invaded my lake. If I had been any closer to its tail, I could have easily been cut in two. The rest of the day I spent as close to the lake floor as possible, only surfacing every eight minutes or so for a breath of air. I no longer thought of the surface of the lake as a haven where I could nibble happily on water lilies all day. It was a danger zone, property of the new animal. After weeks of living in fear, I decided to move on and find a new home. The lake that had once been paradise was no longer safe, thanks to the strange, nonliving animal that now haunts its waters.