I have lived in the Amazon of Peru for more than fifteen years.
Not as a visitor. Not passing through.
I live here — on the rivers that breathe with the forest, guiding travelers from Iquitos deep into the jungle, where the water is brown, the nights are loud, and the spirits of the river still matter.
And if there is one animal that defines this place more than any other, it is the pink dolphin.
We call it boto.
Some call it the Amazon pink dolphin, others the pink river dolphin, or the boto dolphin. Scientists know it as Inia geoffrensis. But here, in the villages along the Amazon, the Nanay, and the tributaries that twist like snakes through the forest, the boto is something else entirely.
It is a neighbor.
A warning.
A legend that swims.
Meeting the Pink River Dolphin for the First Time
I still remember my first real encounter with a pink river dolphin.
It was early morning on the Amazon River, mist lifting slowly off the water. The engine was off. We were drifting. The jungle felt awake but quiet, like it was listening.
Then the river broke.
A smooth curve of pink rose from the water, slow and deliberate, followed by a soft breath — not loud like a whale, not playful like ocean dolphins. Just calm. Watching.
“This is the boto,” an old fisherman whispered.
That moment stays with you. Every guide here has a story like that. And every time, the reaction is the same: silence first… then disbelief.
Because the pink dolphin is real. Not a myth. Not a story for tourists.
It lives here. It has always lived here.
What Is the Amazon Pink Dolphin, Really?
The Amazon pink river dolphin is the largest river dolphin on Earth, but it doesn’t behave like the dolphins people imagine.
It doesn’t leap and spin.
It doesn’t follow boats for fun.
It moves slowly, thoughtfully, as if the river belongs to it — because it does.
Its body is built for the jungle:
- A long snout to search between roots
- Small eyes for muddy water
- Powerful echolocation to “see” what humans cannot
- A flexible neck that turns, unlike ocean dolphins
When the rivers flood — and they always do — the boto swims into the forest itself, weaving between trees where fish hide among the branches.
You don’t watch the boto.
You encounter it.
Life Along the Rivers of Iquitos: Home of the Boto Dolphin
Living near Iquitos means the river is everything.
It feeds us.
It carries us.
It decides when we move and when we wait.
The pink dolphin’s habitat stretches across this watery world — the Amazon River, blackwater tributaries, oxbow lakes, and flooded forests. During the rainy season, the forest becomes a lake. During the dry season, the rivers shrink, and life crowds together.
That’s when you see the boto dolphin most often — surfacing quietly near canoes, watching children swim, appearing like a spirit and vanishing just as fast.
And always, the elders remind us:
“Never laugh at the boto. Never point. Never disrespect it.”
Why the Pink Dolphin Is Pink
People always ask me this first.
“Why is it pink?”
The truth is — the pink dolphin is not born pink.
Calves are gray, like the river mud. The pink comes slowly, with age, with scars, with life.
Older males are the pinkest. They fight during mating season, pushing and biting each other. Their skin scars, and blood flows closer to the surface. In warm Amazon water, the color deepens — sometimes pale rose, sometimes almost white, sometimes bright like sunset.
Each boto carries its story on its skin.
The Boto in Amazonian Legends
If you grow up in the Amazon, you grow up with stories of the boto.
They say the boto becomes a man at night — handsome, well-dressed, wearing a hat to hide his blowhole. He dances at village fiestas. He seduces women. He disappears before dawn.
Pregnancies without explanation?
“The boto.”
Someone vanishes in the river?
“The boto took them.”
Outsiders laugh at these stories. But they miss the point.
The myth protects the animal.
Because when you believe the Amazon pink dolphin has power, you think twice before harming it. Fear becomes respect. Respect becomes survival.
Are Pink Dolphins Dangerous?
No.
The pink river dolphin is not dangerous to humans.
I have guided hundreds of people. I have shared rivers with boto dolphins for years. They are curious, intelligent, sometimes bold — but never aggressive.
The real danger comes from humans.
Fishing nets.
Poisoned water from mercury.
Illegal hunting for bait.
Dams that block ancient routes.
The boto does not attack us.
We are the ones attacking the boto.
The Decline of the Amazon Pink Dolphin
This is the part that hurts to tell.
When I first came to the Amazon, seeing a pink dolphin was common. Today, in some areas, sightings are rare.
The boto dolphin is endangered.
Mercury from gold mining poisons fish. Dolphins eat the fish. The poison builds in their bodies.
Some fishermen still kill them illegally to use as bait for catfish. Others don’t mean to harm them — nets trap them, and they drown quietly.
Dams change the rivers. And when the river changes, everything changes.
The forest remembers.
The boto suffers.
Why the Amazon Needs the Pink Dolphin
The Amazon pink river dolphin is an apex predator. It keeps fish populations balanced. When the boto disappears, the river loses its rhythm.
But it is more than ecology.
The boto is a symbol of the Amazon’s soul.
If the pink dolphin vanishes, it means the rivers are dying — and when the rivers die, the forest follows.
A Guide’s Promise to the Boto
Every time I guide someone from Iquitos into the jungle, I tell them:
“Watch the river. Be patient.”
And when a pink dolphin appears — even just for a second — I see the same look every time.
Wonder.
Silence.
Respect.
That is how conservation begins.
Not with rules.
Not with signs.
But with connection.
I have lived here more than fifteen years, and I hope that long after I am gone, the boto will still surface at dawn, breathing softly in the mist.
Because the Amazon without the pink dolphin…
would no longer be the Amazon.
