In the little community of Nargana we managed to book flights back to Panama and have a meal of chicken and chips at Nali’s bar. The older folk were mostly hidden behind the low bamboo homes, kids kicked balls around the concrete court and the young men congregated under verandas to drink hard liquor. Only one person, a man, seemed fixedly occupied chipping away at a great log under a makeshift shade of fronds, painstakingly revealing the Cyuca he dreamed was trapped inside.

We trolled that evening until we found the mouth to the Rio Diablo, hidden behind many mangrove islands, meandering bays, sandbanks and barriers of heavy driftwood. The next day we made a morning start on the winding waters in the dinghy, trolling ever hopeful. If we’d known then that the river was inhabited by crocs perhaps we would not have plunged in as we did, but then we would never have removed the sweat and heat in the cold sweet water and felt so invigorated. Jesus lizards, kingfisher species and many beautiful tropical flowers. No monkeys or tapirs.