I KNEW I HAD ACHIEVED a sort of Asmat state of grace when I found myself actually enjoying the periodic downpours.

"It's like turning the showerhead to the massage setting," said Jeff as we motored into a storm one afternoon. "It actually hurts." Jeff was in a particularly good mood, since earlier in the day we'd bagged one of the shots on his "must-have" list: a crocodile sliding into the water. He had mentioned it so much that we were all on the lookout, but Rufus was the only one eagle-eyed enough to spot it. We were headed upriver when he pointed to a muddy spot on the riverbank and whispered, "Crocodile." Such serendipity began to seem normal.

Just as that afternoon's storm let up, I heard a rhythmic chanting coming toward us over the water—"Huhh, huhh, huhh, huhh, ah-uhh"—accompanied by the sound of wood slapping wood. Looking toward the noise, we saw a dozen dugout canoes, each with six to eight men, coming across the misty water. The men paddled standing up and were decked out in the garb of a war party: headbands of cuscus fur and cassowary feathers, boar-tusk pendants, and a smattering of cassowary-bone daggers tucked into the woven-palm armbands that they wore on their biceps.

"They're coming out to meet us," said Rufus. This explained little, and I had a moment of genuine fear. A flotilla of Asmat canoes is an intimidating sight, but as they closed in I recognized many of the men from the village we had stayed at the night before.

"Nat, can you shoot?" Jeff asked.

"Yep, good to go."

"There's no way we can get sound, can we?" Jeff asked, looking to Dean.

"I think so. Tim, you still on?" Dean asked, referring to my microphone pack. I nodded. "Yeah, let's do it."

As I began narrating, the rain let up and a half-dozen canoes fell in on either side of us. On our left, a couple of wily elders held on to our gunwale and let our outboard do the work for them. When I was done narrating, I found myself banging my hand against the side of our canoe in time to the chanting.

"I feel like I'm vibrating right now," said Nat, exhaling deeply, a big smile on his face.

Jeff turned to me and held up his hand for a high five. "Print that!"