Madre de Dios: Stranded in the Amazon | Dead End | 2

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0:08Holly FitzGerald:A listener note. Against the Odds uses dramatizations that are based on true events. Some elements, including dialogue, may be invented, but everything is based on research.

0:26Holly FitzGerald:Gerald Fitz, Fitzgerald, smiles under a clear blue sky as his wife Holly snaps a photo of him at the tiller. Parrots and macaws call out from the trees, and sunlight sparkles on the water. It's February 15th, 1973, their first day aboard their homemade raft, the Pink Palace. After a week of building the raft and gathering supplies, they're really doing it. They're gliding down the Madre de Dios River, headed for the Amazon. Holly laughs. It feels like a dream. No schedules, no people, just us. I've never felt so free. They drift deeper into the unknown, winding their way downstream with the current.

1:15Holly FitzGerald:By late afternoon, all signs of human life have vanished. No more huts, no smoke. Only dense green jungle rising high on the riverbanks. There aren't even any other boats. I've never been this far from people before. Fitz scans the horizon. The river spreads wide. Half a mile of brown water on either side of them. The border post should be coming up soon. They left Puerto Maldonado at noon, hoping to reach the Peru-Bolivia border before dusk. On the map, it's only 40 miles, but with the river's twists and turns, who knows how long it'll take. They keep scanning both banks. They have no idea what the border post even looks like.

2:00Holly FitzGerald:As the sun drops low and orange, Fitz starts to feel uneasy. He looks over at Holly. It's getting dark. We should pull over for the night. It'll be easier to spot the border in the morning. If we miss it, we'll be in Bolivia illegally, and that's trouble we don't need. They try to steer toward shore. Fitz at the tiller, Holly paddling. But the current fights back. Again and again, they get within inches of the overgrown bank, until Holly can almost grab onto one of the vines. But each time, the river yanks them back to midstream. Sweat drips down Fitz's forehead. It's impossible! We have no goddamn control.

2:42Holly FitzGerald:He thought they could manage the raft like a boat, but now he knows. The river is in charge. It's faster, stronger, and far more powerful than either of them imagined. He can sense Holly's nerves matching his own. They're at the mercy of the Madre. We'll have to keep drifting. Hopefully we'll be able to spot the border hot in the dark. Maybe someone there can pull us in? Fitz studies the map in the fading light. His finger traces the 500-mile winding route toward their destination, the Bolivian town of Ribeiralta. Then his stomach sinks. Past the border, the river only widens. If no one helps pull them in at Ribeiralta, they'll careen straight into crushing whitewater rapids.

3:31Holly FitzGerald:As the last of the light vanishes, all they can do is hope they spot the border post in the dark and that someone helps them in.

3:44I heard a rumor that the CIA poisoned my granddad. Gordon Banks, the world's number one goalkeeper. It happened in Mexico, supposedly, at the World Cup in 1970. Sounds crazy? I'm an investigative journalist on the hunt for evidence. We needed to do some extraordinary things to counter the Soviets. This is Foul Play, an unbelievable tale of sports, spies and family secrets. Listen now wherever you get your podcasts or early and ad-free on Audible.

4:19Holly FitzGerald:From Wondery, I'm Cassie DePeckel and this is Against the Odds.

4:27Holly FitzGerald:In February 1973, newlyweds Fitz and Holly Fitzgerald were traveling through South America, five months into their year-long delayed honeymoon. After traveling across the Andes, they'd set out to catch a boat down the Madre de Dios River, chasing Holly's lifelong dream of seeing the Amazon. But from the start, their plan kept veering off course. Their small plane crash-landed in a remote Peruvian penal colony. And when they finally reached the frontier town of Puerto Maldonado, they discovered there was no scheduled riverboat after all. Rather than stay stranded, they decided to build a raft with the help of locals.

5:08Holly FitzGerald:Four long balsa logs with a stove and a pink plastic tent on top. They were told the trip would be simple. Just follow the main current downstream for five days and nights, and they'd reach Ribeiralta, where they could hitch a ride into Brazil. But the river had other plans.

5:28Holly FitzGerald:This is Episode 2, Dead End.

5:37Socorro!

5:38Holly FitzGerald:Holly jolts awake inside the tent to Fitz's voice, shouting a Spanish word for help outside. Socorro! Socorro! Fitz? What is it? We're here, at the border. I saw a man lighting a cigarette. I saw his face in the flare of the match. Holly scrambles out of the tent into the pitch black night. Where? Fitz is pointing their flashlight toward the right bank. Up there! Holly follows his gaze. And there it is. A tiny orange flicker between the trees. She joins him, her voice rising with his. Socaro! Socaro! Help! Help! They can hear men shouting in Spanish, running down to the shore. Then, without warning...

6:25Holly FitzGerald:Holly, get down! Holly dives back into the tent, flat onto the floor, as gunfire erupts across the river. Bullets whiz by. One rips straight through the plastic, inches from her head. She presses her face down and prays. Help us, please. They must think we're smugglers trying to run the border. Then the shooting stops, replaced by a new sound, the putt-putt of small engines growing louder. A boat slams hard against their raft. Men shout at them in Spanish. Come out! Order! Holly crawls out of the tent. A beam of light floods her eyes, blinding at first. and then she sees the rifles, trained on them from every direction.

7:17Holly FitzGerald:Two small motorboats are filled with half a dozen border guards, some in Peruvian military uniforms, others in nothing but their underwear. Fitz lies prostrate on the deck with his hands clasped behind his head. Holly's heart pounds. Her mind races. Can't they see we're just tourists? What's going to happen to us? The men shout again, ordering them to grab their bags and get into the nearest boat. They slowly rise to their feet and climb aboard the motorboats as rifles track their every motion.

7:57Holly FitzGerald:Fitz swallows hard as a rifle muzzle presses against his chest. Even though the weather is calm, the current is so strong it takes both motorboats to push the Pink Palace to shore. Take your bags and get out. Fitz obeys, helping Holly over the side. He glances back. One guard is tying up their raft, while others leap aboard and start rummaging through their supplies. They're herded up a steep, twisting trail through the jungle and ushered into a dark hut lit by a single flashlight. A guard orders them to sit on the dirt floor. Fitz's stomach tightens as the soldiers unzip their bags and dump everything out.

8:40Holly FitzGerald:He catches Holly's eyes, wide and terrified. One soldier picks up a small box and shakes it. Tampons spill across the floor. The men laugh, scooping them up and flinging them like darts. Another finds one of Holly's bras and twirls it in the air. Fitz burns with rage. Hey, put that down! The guard just smirks at him and tosses the bra to his friend. Fitz clenches his fists and shifts closer to Holly, ready to protect her if he has to. Then suddenly, the door slams open. An older officer strides in, wearing a freshly pressed uniform. Immediately, the soldiers snap to attention. The man orders them back to bed, and they rush out.

9:30Holly FitzGerald:The officer looks Fitz and Holly over and tells them to roll out their sleeping bags. Then he takes their passports and walks out with no explanation, leaving them alone in the darkness. Fitz's heart is still pounding as they unroll the bags and lie down on the cold dirt floor. He puts his arms around Holly. She's trembling against his chest. You okay? Yeah, I'm fine, but those men were scary. He pulls her in closer. Yeah, they were jerks. Don't worry, Hall. I'm not sleeping tonight.

10:09Holly FitzGerald:Holly holds her breath as she hears boots crunch toward the hut. It's dawn. She and Fitz barely slept, curled together on the dirt floor. The door swings open and two soldiers step in. One hands them each a tin cup of coffee. The other returns their passports. Buenos dias. We're going to escort you across the border now. Holly's stunned. No explanation, no apology, but she doesn't care. Relief floods through her. They grab their backpacks and head back down the steep jungle path, the same one they'd climbed last night. The two guards ferry them a short distance downriver, where they spot the pink palace tied to a tree.

10:55Holly FitzGerald:Holly exhales, relieved. On the shore, a Bolivian officer in a khaki uniform introduces himself as the border sergeant, He seems much friendlier than the Peruvian border guards, and Holly feels more at ease. She and Fitz explain their story and their concerns about managing the raft. The sergeant smiles. You'll be fine. It's a straight run to Riberalta from here. What about the rapids? What if there's no one to help bring us in? Someone will help you, without guns this time. After the sergeant leaves, Fitz turns to her. What do you think? We don't really have another choice, do we? The sergeant seems sure we'll be fine.

11:39Holly FitzGerald:Two Bolivian guards help them push the Pink Palace back into the current. Fitz checks their ransacked boxes. The machete's gone. I guess it would be worth a lot to someone. Holly grips her paddle. Let's hope we don't need it. As they continue on downriver, Fitz repeats the sergeant's words. It's a straight run to Riberalta. Holly can't tell if his confidence is real or just bravado, but she chooses to believe him. Fitz leans back and smiles as Holly twirls barefoot across the logs, singing Proud Mary at the top of her lungs. It's February 18th, their fourth day on the river. Since the terror at the border, the Madre de Dios has carried them smoothly and steadily.

12:29Holly FitzGerald:They're now in paradise. just the two of them, carefree and wildly in love. This is what kids dream about, Holly. She twirls toward him, her long hair flying loose in the breeze. Dance with me. You're crazy. I'll fall on my ass. No, you won't. She grabs his hand and pulls him up. Fitz steadies himself as Holly loops her arms around his neck. She rests her head against his chest, and together they sway. Holly, look! Suddenly, a swirl of butterflies drift towards them. Red, orange, yellow, purple, glittering in the sunlight. Holly gasps as they set on her. Wow, you look bejeweled. They laugh and kiss and collapse onto the uneven logs with their arms wrapped around each other.

13:26Holly FitzGerald:It's romantic, but not exactly comfortable. I've got a better idea. He takes her hand and leads her into the pink plastic tent, onto the silky sleeping bags. For now, it's perfect. Just love, the jungle, and the river rocking them gently. That night, Holly dreams she's on a merry-go-round, riding up and down on a painted horse. But then the screws come loose. The bolts snap. The carousel tears apart, hurling her into the air. Her eyes snap open. For a moment, she thinks she's still dreaming. But no, she's on the raft. And it's spinning wildly out of control. Fitz, wake up! She shakes his shoulder.

14:16What?

14:17Holly FitzGerald:It's a storm! The raft lurches sideways. Fitz crawls to the tent flap and looks out. I can't see a thing. Get back inside. If you fall in, I'll never find you. Oh my God. Holly, watch out. Something slams against the bow. The whole raft lurches sideways. Holly throws her arms over her head, just as something massive rips through the plastic and crashes down on top of her. Holly, are you okay? She's face down, pinned, as rain pelts her through a hole in the tent. Her head feels okay. She can move her fingers and her toes, but she can't get free. I think so. But what's holding me down? A damn tree trunk just fell in.

15:06Roots are everywhere. Hold on. Cover your eyes. I'm lifting.

15:11Holly FitzGerald:The roots drag across her back like claws. Stop. Fitz freezes. You've got to get out. Crawl backward. Holly tries to shimmy back on her stomach, inch by inch, but her hair is tangled in the roots. I can't. My hair's stuck. Keep coming, Hall. You're almost here. She works strand by strand to free her hair, until finally she manages to get herself out. Fitz is bracing his shoulder under the trunk. The raft's tipping. We've got to get this tree off. Holly pushes with him. heaving until it finally slides off into the raging river. They cling to each other as the raft spins helplessly downriver. Minutes later, the storm eases, and the Madre becomes calm again, as if nothing ever happened.

16:04Then... We've hit something!

16:07Holly FitzGerald:The raft is jammed against a tangle of branches near the bank. Finally, we can tie up! She leans out in the darkness and grabs a branch, while Fitz fumbles for the rope and loops it around a vine. The raft steadies. They sink back down into the tent, and Holly exhales. At least we've landed. The sleeping bags are soaked. The tent is ripped. But she doesn't care. She's beyond exhausted. Too tired to even worry about whatever wild animals might creep close, now that they're tied to the riverbank. All she wants is to close her eyes and sleep. Tomorrow, they'll figure out where they are.

16:55Holly FitzGerald:Fitz wakes to sunlight warming his face. Through the hole in the tent, the sky is a dazzling blue. Beside him, Holly's awake. How are you feeling, Hall? Much better, thanks to you. It scared me how close that tree came to crushing your head. They hold each other tightly, a silent moment of relief, before crawling out of the tent to survey the damage. The tent roof is shredded, but the raft itself seems intact. They'll patch it up before setting off again. If all goes well, they'll reach Ribeiralta by sundown. Right now, they're starving. Fitz ducks back into the mangled tent to get some spam and eggs for breakfast.

17:40Holly FitzGerald:But as he reaches for the food boxes in the corner, he notices the plastic wall flapping loose behind them, no longer attached to the tent's frame. He takes a closer look, and his stomach drops. Their two food boxes are on their sides, tipped toward the river, and they're almost empty. The food's gone! That goddamn tree knocked it all overboard. What's left is pitiful. A can of tuna, a packet of pea soup powder, a hunk of cheese, a jar of instant coffee, half a cup of sugar, and one can of carnation milk. Holly looks distraught. That's not even enough for one day. Don't worry. Tonight we'll find a cozy cafe in Riber Alta and have a big dinner.

18:30Holly FitzGerald:They sit on the deck, cradling their coffees, trying to laugh it off. Then Fitz frowns, squinting at the river. Something's off. All around them, trees rise straight out of the water, 10, 15 feet high. There's no open bank on the other side. No wide current. The river's slower than usual, and I don't see any land. They peer back behind them, under the brush. As far as they can see, everything is partially submerged. There's no sign of solid earth anywhere. Where are we, Fitz? We must be somewhere along the river, right? He shakes his head. I don't think it's the river. It's too damn slow. Holly jumps up.

19:17Holly FitzGerald:Let's get out of here. We can fix the tent once we find the main current. Fitz pushes off against the brush with the pole while Holly paddles. They pull and string, but the pink palace barely moves. Sweat pours down Fitz's face. The raft feels like dead weight without the usual current. Fitz gives up on steering and instead uses the rudder as a big paddle. Eventually, they catch the faintest pull of current, but they have to paddle continuously to keep moving. Something's wrong, Hall. I think the storm blew us off course. We're not on the Madre anymore. It must be a detour. Let's keep going. Remember what Juan said?

20:03Holly FitzGerald:Any detour will bring us back to the main river. Fitz stares downstream. I don't know. I think we're in some sort of dead-end channel or swamp. The water's not moving down there. Please, Fitz, what else can we do? We have to see where it goes. All right, let's go. Reluctantly, Fitz digs in the blade of his rudder paddle, forcing the Pink Palace forward through the flooded jungle. As the bend opens up, hope rises in their chests. In just a few seconds, they'll know if they're able to get out. But then, it hits like a kick to the stomach. There's no opening. No sign of the Madre. No land. just an impenetrable wall of jungle vegetation and trees submerged in thick brown water.

20:56Holly FitzGerald:Last night's storm has swept them down the river to nowhere. Fitz says nothing as the raft drifts in eerie silence. This isn't a detour. It's a trap. How can they possibly escape? Their raft only goes one way, and they've run out of river.

21:29Holly FitzGerald:Holly pulls hand over hand along the trees, clawing at reeds and vines, anything she can grab to drag the pink palace back through the swamp. They're fighting against the current, which isn't as strong as the main river, but it's strong enough. Their 8-by-16-foot raft was never meant to travel upstream. They left the dead end around maybe 2 o 'clock, judging by the sun, hoping to find the Madre de Dios before sundown. But several hours had passed, and they'd made little headway. Then the sky opens up. We've got to paddle her in! I'm trying! Fitz flings the rope over a low branch and hauls the Pink Palace in beneath the shrubs.

22:15Holly FitzGerald:They're hungry, soaked, and shivering, but they work fast, nailing an extra sheet of plastic over the tent frame. Their hammer went overboard in the storm, so they use one of Holly's wooden clogs instead. When they're done, they shove the soggy sleeping bags aside and collapse inside the tent. Holly curls into Fitz's chest, holding him tight. I'm scared. Me too. Holly's eyes well up as she tries to block out the heavy thumping and low growls coming from the trees. This certainly isn't the river adventure she had in mind when she'd pictured them like Huck and Jim. Funny, just two years ago, her idea of being trapped meant being stranded at home in the country without a car.

23:03Holly FitzGerald:She had no idea. The next morning, Fitz crouches by the stove, stirring green powder into a pot of boiling swamp water, treated with iodine drops. He and Holly sip the thin pea soup carefully, using their teeth to strain out bits of mud, leaves, and twigs. As they sit, they weigh their options. The raft can't be paddled any farther, so they can either stay with the Pink Palace and pray to be rescued, or swim up the channel in search of the main river and land. Bits starts thinking aloud. We should probably stay put in case they send a plane to look for us. A pilot would spot the raft better than two swimmers.

23:49Holly FitzGerald:Besides, the Madre could be a mile away, or 20. We should conserve our energy. Holly nods. Yeah, and remember the parasites Juan told us about? The candiru? What the hell was that? You don't think it's a caiman, do you? The giant alligator-like caiman can grow over 15 feet long, far too big to fend off with their hands, or the small pocket knife. They also read about the piranhas, electric eels, anacondas, and stingrays that swim here. fits size. The machete would have come in handy right about now. Maybe we could have cut down a tree and hacked it into a canoe. Then we wouldn't have to swim at all.