Tomorrow we are heading into the rainforest, will travel up river by boat. I have repeating thoughts that my Nemesis, the monkey prince is waiting for me, he has prepared his army well, he is dug in, entrenched and all I can do is rely on my training and instinct. Will we forge a détente he and I, or will this task, this Donner quelque chose de Mano y Mano result in the untimely loss of a hat, glasses, or sundry article?
"Hey, man, you don't talk to the Colonel. You listen to him. The man's enlarged my mind. He's a poet-warrior in the classic sense. I mean sometimes he'll, uh, well, you'll say hello to him, right? And he'll just walk right by you, and he won't even notice you. And suddenly he'll grab you, and he'll throw you in a corner, and he'll say do you know that 'if' is the middle word in life? If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you, if you can trust yourself when all men doubt you -- I mean I'm no, I can't -- I'm a little man, I'm a little man, he's, he's a great man. I should have been a pair of ragged claws scuttling across floors of silent seas -- I mean --"
And Willard responded not to the journalist, but turned back to Chef and said, "stay with the boat".
Have a good day and always --always stay with the boat.