Six in the morning comes late in the Amazon. For hours, long before the hot leading edge of the sun touches the horizon, the birds and monkeys have been yelling and chattering and gossiping in a dense cacophony that ends abruptly with the first shadows of the day.
Caffeinated, sunscreened, and bug sprayed, I’m stepping out of the luxury of the Delfin III, a cruise ship purpose-built to navigate the Amazon’s narrow, wildlife-rich tributaries, and onto the low-slung skiff that will give my fellow passengers and me, we hope, front-row seats to sloths, caimans, piranhas, monkeys, and other creatures that populate the region.

I’d arrived the evening before, just in time to watch the setting sun transform the Amazon River from brownish to gold as we whizzed over it toward the ship in the breezy skiff. Built in nearby Iquitos, the Delfin III resembles a floating boutique hotel: there are just 22 suites, a single dining room, and a large living area with a bar at one end. The interiors are elegant and comfortable with lots of leather, amber-hued local wood, and wrought iron; details like a woven ceiling in the living room, hand-carved wooden benches and tables, local art, and cool light fixtures give each space a residential feel. The line was founded in 2006 by Aldo Macchiavello and Lissy Urteaga, a Peruvian husband and wife team who continue to own and operate it. In 2017, Delfin Amazon Cruises became the first cruise line ever to join the prestigious Relais & Chateaux group. It’s a tough balance: the Amazon Basin is remote, difficult to navigate, and determinedly unconquerable. Creating a true luxury experience in that environment has to be incredibly challenging. Delfin does it by bringing guests the very best of Amazonian Peru.
As the skiff pulled away from the ship, our naturalist guide Ericson told us what to expect over the next few days and captivated us with his deep knowledge of the Amazon. Our cruise would take place within the Belgium-sized Pacaya Samiria National Reserve, which is home to 449 registered species of birds, 269 species of fish, 58 different amphibians and reptiles, 132 types of mammals, and more insects than could ever be counted. All of these beings live amid nearly 1,000 types of plants.

On that first morning, we watched, awed, as we passed through a remarkable, Wonka-esque world of giant blue butterflies, noisy green parrots, bright-billed toucans, and red-throated storks that stand nearly five-feet tall. We recoiled when a school of curious baby piranhas surged toward the boat, their scarlet mouths opening and closing as they swam and, later, we looked on as a young female sloth dropped into the river and swam gracefully across before pulling herself, slowly but surely, to the top of a tree. There were hundreds of monkeys, too, some enjoying the view from high perches, others shaking the trees as they jumped from branch to branch.
Our days moved to the rhythm of the animals, with excursions leaving at dawn and dusk. And while the view from the ship remained fairly constant — deep green jungle, curving river — our outings varied widely. One morning, we found ourselves completely surrounded by hundreds of white egrets and storks which swooped and called as we entered their territory; a few minutes later, while swimming in a deep lake, we were delighted to be joined by a pod of curious but shy pink dolphins; they came close enough that we could see their unique markings, but made it clear they didn’t want to join our party. Another afternoon we pulled into a clearing for a hike through the jungle, where anacondas, poison dart frogs, and tarantulas made us glad we had a ship to return to. Regardless of our location, our trio of guides, Ericson, Jorge, and Adonay, knew the name of every living thing we passed. They also possessed eagle eyes, pulling the skiff around on a dime so we could catch a glimpse of a rare bird or animal.
That flexibility was part of the appeal of the cruise. Though the guides held to a schedule, they were free to seek out cool experiences on the fly, such as the afternoon Jorge flagged down a local fisherman so he could show us the huge piranha he’d just caught.

Our exploration of the region also included a visit to one of the thousands of isolated villages that had been carved out of the jungle and could only be reached by water. Here, we toured water gardens planted with lily pads that had grown to the size of tables, and listened as a Shaman shared generations of knowledge about the medicinal uses of local plants. On the way out, we had the opportunity to purchase handicrafts made by some of the same female artisans who had crafted many of the decorative items on the ship. The village visit program is a passion project for Urteaga, who met the women while she was looking for locally made art to use on the ship and realized the potential financial benefit that families and villages could receive if they would open their communities to Delfin passengers. Today, families who live in participating villages have a guaranteed income that reduces their dependence on selling poached turtle eggs, parrots, monkeys, and other animals as well as illegal harvesting of plants like the Chonta palm, which is used for everything from wood to food to weaving. Proceeds are also being used to purchase school supplies, medical kits, and books.
As on a safari, we spent our time in between excursions working, relaxing, and socializing. Since internet is only available in the ship’s living room, we generally congregated there (particularly when staff members gathered to teach us how to make Pisco sours or hearts of palm salad) although we made regular use of the sun deck and pool, gym and spa.
We also ate. The food aboard Delfin isn’t just delicious, as Urteage-Macchiavellos are fully focused on immersing guests in Peru’s culture and flavors. Every meal — for me at least — was an opportunity to try something completely new. Even better, I never had to dare myself to try an unfamiliar dish: nothing was alive and still wriggling, atomically spicy or, without some sort of special prep, potentially poisonous.

Breakfast is served buffet style, and while traditional Western and Eastern dishes were available — passengers are from all over the world — our group started the day with superfruits like camu camu and aguaje as well as homemade granola made with quinoa and other South American grains and remarkably flavorful juices that were much more interesting than OJ.
Lunch and dinner were plated, three-course affairs that had us jealous of Peru’s bounty and impressed by Chef Isaac Savedra’s skill. Whether perfectly seared, steamed in banana leaves, or sliced into carpaccio, fish — Paicha, Wrasse, Peacock Bass, Oscarfish — was always fresh and perfectly cooked. There was also pork, chicken, and a bit of beef, but whatever main we had, it was presented with an elegant sauce, foam, or condiment made with fruits and vegetables that grow nowhere else on Earth. Peruvian wines are served with lunch and dinner and are complimentary, as are Pisco sours and a few other drinks. Other wines and cocktails are available for a fee.

Details matter aboard Delfin III and the more I looked the more I noticed, from the school of hand-carved wooden piranha that swims across the dining room to a tablescape of beautifully woven birds set amid a forest of bromeliads, which grow wild in the jungle. We couldn’t wait to delve into the bread basket, thanks to a baker who crafted each night’s hot rolls into whimsical dolphins, piranhas, turtles, or caimans. Turndown includes a locally made chocolate, an illustrated booklet that told an Amazonian legend, and witty towel sculptures that made use of my glasses and book.
I’m embarrassed to admit that before I knew anything about the Peruvian Amazon and the wondrous riches that awaited me, my initial motivation to visit was the hope that I’d see a sloth. Thanks to Delfin, I not only got to see that sloth, but, in just four days, had one of the most immersive travel experiences I can ever remember. And I didn’t have to rough it a bit.
Featured image courtesy of Delfin Amazon Cruises