January 21st

We part for a three day trip out to the Tortuga islands today, with two clients; a couple from Ottawa. I get up at 5AM and walk to the resort to help Bruce pack up the gear. I have talked about some of the hazards of this short 15 minute walk…crocodiles, howler monkeys, snakes…etc…However, This morning held yet another surprise, as most mornings do. Still half asleep, I round a corner and see two bulls in full charge running towards me along the narrow road….I really didn’t know what to do. After staring at my impending doom for a good 4 seconds, I jump into the bushes, taking my chances with whatever strange creatures I may disturb. The bulls stampede by, with three dog in hot pursuit. I continue my walk…but now the two bulls, having been chased off their paddock, decide to walk back, behind me, for the entire walk. I managed to snap a couple pictures. 

Once safely at Tambor, we pack the gear and head off to Curu to get ready for our clients.  After we meet with Barb and Steve (really nice people) we set off on the hour long paddle to make base camp on Quesera beach. I tried to put it's beauty into words in previous posts, but this time I will let it speak for itself... 

We set up a base camp on Quesera and prepare for the two nights we will be staying. I set-up my small two-man tent under a beach almond tree (to shield from falling coconuts).

 Rather then try to break down the trip chronologically, I am just going to write about some highlights of the trip. For many reasons, I could only bring my small backup DSLR camera with me, and one lens…so I don’t have pictures of any critters I ran into. Hopefully I’ll get to bring my gear out to Quesera beach sometime soon and spend some time capturing all the exciting life forms that fly, swim, climb and crawl around.

Snorkeling at the Tortugas

This was the first time I got to snorkel around the Tortugas, although the coral on the reef is not much too look at (see coral bleaching), the abundance and variety of fish was amazing. King angelfish, over a foot long patrolled the coral heads…butterflyfish pick at your feet and large schools of colorful reef fish sparkle all around you. I spot an octopus crawling across the bottom and dive down to get a closer look. In an instant the octopus changes color and and texture to match perfectly with a small rock next to him. Doesn’t fool me…I poke at his muscular body with my finger…he begins to flash through different color shades.  He extends one tentacle and grabs my arm…I remove it with a bit of difficulty, the suction pads on the tentacles are incredibly strong and make a sharp popping sound when they detach. I make a mental note that I should probably cease all physical contact with sea creatures. I also manage to find a moray eel, a distant look is enough to satisfy my curiosity.

Nightime on Quesera

Spending a night in a thriving tropical wildlife refuge was a great experience. At night, all the creatures of the cool club come out; scorpions, spiders, moths, crabs, snakes, owls etc…I am wearing my headlamp, which functions to attract a swarm of insects much the same way your patio lights do on a warm summer night. While cleaning up after dinner, a huge praying mantis flies in and lands on my shoulder. I turn my head and look into the eye of a truly alien creature…I really hope to get a picture of one of these guys soon (it flew off quickly) and will post it, but keep this story in mind when I do. A giant katydid also flew in and attached to my chest. These guys are like grasshoppers on steroids and have a body camouflaged as a large green leaf. Swatting and flailing is not efficient when the insects are poisonous and as large as mice…the best thing to do is to stand still until they land on whatever appendage they see fit, then deal with it calmly. While sitting on the kitchen table, I watch a small bark scorpion crawl between my legs. You get used to this. I go to climb into bed…I scare a snake from the leaf litter surrounding my tent, I am 95% sure it’s not venomous. A giant cockroach is climbing up the tree next to me, I try to pick him up, he hisses at me like a cat. I crawl into my sleeping bag and look up through the thin mesh of bug netting that separates “me” from “them”. Pushing those thoughts aside, I gaze at the silhouetted mosaic of palm fronds against the starry night sky and let the pounding surf put me to sleep.

Paddling among the Tortuga Islands

Each day we took our clients along new route around the Tortuga islands and surrounding areas. The weather was perfect, highs of 32 and lows of 22 with a light sea breeze to keep you cool. It was so clear that you could see the distant mountains of the central pacific coast of Costa Rica…

I got to see my first pacific ocean sea turtle! He/she popped up in front of my kayak to grab a quick breath before slipping into the deep blue water. Not sure what species…I’ll try to have my camera on the ready next time. 

On the evening of the first day we went to Playa Organos to practice surfing the waves there. I ended up in the water just as much as our two clients. Here’s a pic of Steve riding a small wave in…and a congrats from Bruce.

On the final day we pack up the gear and head back to the center of Curu. I snap a quick picture of Barb and Steve for a photo package I’m putting together for multi-day seascape clients…

Lastly, my posts would not be complete without some bird shots...I've had very little time to do any bird photography. Today (January 29th) is my first day off since last Friday and next week is looking quite busy as well. Today i'm going to work on constructing a hide out of palm fronds next to the mangrove estuary in Tambor. In front of this hide I plan on making a small freshwater bath to attract birds. My theory is that since we are in the grip of the dry season the fresh running water will bring thirsty birds to me rather than having to hunt for them. We will see how this goes and I will keep you posted. Anyway, here are some recent additions to my bird portfolio!

Willet

Bare Throated Tiger Heron

Inca Dove

Thanks for reading and take care! Miss you all very much.

January 16th – 21st

The days are flying by so fast now, it makes it hard hard to keep track of them all. I am filling them by learning as much as possible about the local biology. I wake up early in the morning to photograph in the warm soft light that comes with the rising sun. In the afternoon Bruce and I usually go for a paddle and work on essential guiding skills.  I have a lot to learn. I walk the grounds in the evening, doing something that I call “chasing the light”; the terrain around Tambor is very fairly mountainous, as the sun sets certain areas are shaded and the light moves. I start at one end of the bay and slowly work my way towards the other end, taking advantage of whatever opportunities are presented. The pictures I have posted have mainly been of birds, so for this post I will try to focus on some different animal groups...

January 16^th

We paddle out into the Bahia Ballena (Whale Bay) to practice some rescues. If a client capsizes in the open ocean you have to be able to get that person back in their kayak, regardless of their physical ability. I also practice self-rescues, which is how you would get back into your kayak if you were alone. This involves an inflatable air sac that you attach to your paddle for leverage. Afterwards, we go out to the point and play around a group of rocks just off the coast. Waves crash through a narrow corridor and collide with waves bending around the other side of the rock formation. This makes for an interesting “washing machine” torrent of crashing and colliding waves.  You can catch these waves with a kayak much the same way a surfer does; it is quite a rush. I notice small Tuna-like fish (I think they are called Rainbow Runners but am not sure on this). They feed at the surface, creating quite a disturbance. I watch as the schools swim underneath me in the crystal clear water. Bruce decides this is a good time to test my rescue skills and turns his kayak over in the middle of the surging waves. Sometimes I think he has too much faith in me, but I do manage to get him back in the kayak. On our way home I become over confident in my skills and drop my guard. A large hits me broadside, picking me up and quickly dumping me into the sea. A haul my swamped kayak onto the beach as the local kids point and laugh.

January 18^th

         Bruce is in San Jose for the day, which gives me time to wander about looking for strange animals. I don’t have to go far, I find a buzzing of activity just outside my door.  Small insects, about the same size as a mosquito, have built a tubular entrance into the rock wall. Closer inspection reveals some sort of miniature bee species. They come and go out of the entrance; some are regurgitating a “cement” of sorts, building the tubes that must lead into the interior of the hive. Some are hovering motionless outside the entrance, like tiny helicopters guarding from intruders. It seems to me that this would be a good time to take a break from bird photography and focus on the world of the small. I am unsure of whether or not these bees sting, but being so small they seem harmless. I lean in really close for a good picture.

            Afterwards, I grab my guidebook on insects and find out that these are stingless bees, which have lost use of their stingers for defensive purposes. However, they still have an active pheromone that signals the hive to attack intruders. It can be triggered by the scent of Citronella, causing the entire hive to swarm. I plan on giving this a try as soon as I can find a citronella-based product. I sit down to have lunch outside. There is a spiny-tailed iguana, also called a Ctenosaur, that comes down from a tree across the street. I throw him pieces of vegetables, which he snaps up with surprising gusto. These lizards are the fastest in the world, holding the Guinness world record at close to 50 kilometers per hour. I have seen this first hand and it is an incredible feat! They add a prehistoric element to the Costa Rican vista.

While we are on the topic on prehistoric looking creatures, I thought i'd share a photo of the crocodile! It's not very good, but it's enough to solidify his presence.  I usually only see the shine of his eyes in my headlight beam as I walk past the pond at night. However, I managed to get close one morning on the way to work...

January 19^th – Paddle up the estuary in Curu

Today we were supposed to bring a family paddling out in Curu. They decided to cancel the trip 30 minutes before departure…by that time we had already prepped the boats with all the gear so we decided to go for a paddle up the estuary. (This is a different estuary from the one at Tambor). We leave the sound of the pounding surf behind us as we glide into the entrance to the river. Brilliant blue needlefish, a foot long, swim just underneath the surface and glimmer in the sunlight as they pass. Snowy egrets are spread throughout the undergrowth. As we push up into the estuary, the river narrows, and the surrounding forest squeezes in from all directions. There is a strange peace that can be found amidst the tangled chaos of a mangrove forest. 

Despite the amount of life around you, there is little more then the scattered sounds of distant birds. Crabs of all kinds scuttle along the banks and up and down the mangrove roots, which shoot into down into the water like giant drinking straws, extracting nutrients from the salty brine. Mangrove hawks weave their way through the canopy overhead, swooping down to grab small lizards. I catch a glimpse at a Coati, which is medium size mammal similar to a badger or raccoon, but with a long tail. It scurries down from the tree tops and disappears into the tangle of exposed roots.  

On our way back we round the corner to meet the roar of the ocean, the change between the two habitats is very abrupt, and to make this transition is very interesting. I paddle into the breaking waves and make my way into the open bay. I see some strange fins sticking out of the water and pursue them to investigate...At first I think it's a shark, but then they slowly glide underneath me and reveal their true form...

They are some kind of ray. Bruce calls them "Diamondbacks" but I will have to do some research to find out what the species name is. Their is a pair of them and they fly underneath me like giant birds...gliding and twisting in some sort of courtship.
When we get back to the main beach at Curu a troop of white faced capuchin monkeys has taken over the establishment. They leap, run, and climb over everything. There are many disputes among members; these are settled by piercing screams that can be quite unsettling. I try to ease the tension with a peace offering...

January 20^th – Preparation for 3 day trip

Today we prep for our three day trip in the Curu wildlife refuge. There is a lot of preparation that goes into these trips to insure the comfort of the clients. We go to the a small town to buy the groceries which consist mainly of vegetables and fresh fruit. When we get back I begin to pack some of the kayaking gear. We keep the kayaks on a wooden rack behind the resort. I crawl through the rack, retrieving items from the hatches of the kayaks. Spider webs are strung along the rungs of the rack, and I push them away. This is something that doesn’t bother me, while walking through the woods in Canada it is quite normal. However, in Costa Rica it is very easy to forget the environment your in. The placid weather and soothing breeze over-shadow some of the dangers…After navigating my way through a particularly sturdy web I look up to see a Giant Orb weaving spider, one of the largest species in central America.  Their venom is not lethal, but they can deliver a nasty bite.  The female is large…very large (palm sized in large specimens) but the male is tiny and is eaten by the female after mating. This, to me, would curtail ones libido. I have always wanted to see an orb weaver, but perhaps not so close up on my first introduction. After looking closely at the stunning patterns along the cephalothorax, I knew I had to photograph it. However, this was going to very difficult. Orb weavers spin a tangle of webs in no particular arrangement, creating a large interwoven “orb” of silk. In order to get close enough I would have to cut my way into the center, and lie on my back directly underneath the spider…Then get my lens within 6 inches for the shot I wanted. This proved very frustrating, hot, and a bit intimidating. When looking through the viewfinder, it was like staring into the eyes of an extra-terrestrial. I could feel it’s strong, sturdy silk lines all around me and had to be careful not to cut the wrong lines, lest the entire sticky orb fall on top of me, spider and all.

I also discover some smaller spiders that hide amongst the woodwork...I will leave the interpretation of their body plan up to you...as I am still trying to figure it out.

After 20 minutes or so I got frustrated with the situation and left. Making my way slowly out of the tangle of silk, which was the strongest spider webbing I have ever felt. It actually took a bit of effort to break the strands.  To get an idea of the strength, consider this…Giant orb weaving spiders have been known to catch and eat birds. Don’t believe me? Check out the link below...
http://www.trendite.net/2008/10/23/mammoth-golden-orb-weaver-spider-eating-chestnut-breeded-mannikin-bird-pictures/

January 21st

Another prep day. We go over all the gear to make sure everything is in order. Our guests arrive at Tambor tropical and we have dinner with them. I find it odd to eat dinner and drink wine in in such a fancy place...they are dressed in nice clothes and engage in sophisticated conversation, while I try to tame my hair and dig the dirt from under my nails as discretely as possible. I still have cobwebs in my hair from my encounter with the orb weaver. Can't wait to bring these people into the real world!

Love you all, and take care...

January 13th

Today I do my first tour. We are taking a newlywed couple from Wisconsin out of Curu for a paddle to Quesera beach. We arrive there around 11 o’clock and it’s already 30 degrees. Bruce and I set-up under a leaning palm tree to prepare a fruit tray while the newlyweds go snorkeling. I am tempted by the emerald water and decide to take a dip as well. I grab a mask and snorkel and set off. The first fish I see is a large porcupine fish, who watches me curiously with big puppy dog eyes. The coral here is not healthy, it has bleached due to elevated water temperature. Bleaching occurs when the symbiotic algae living within the corals tissues leaves due to stress, usually brought by poor environmental conditions. This leaves the host coral unable to produce energy and the coral quickly wastes away. This problem is occurring on reefs worldwide and is a direct impact of global climate change. Despite the state of the coral, many fish still inhabit the rubble; wrasses, pipefish, damselfish and triggerfish are abundant. So are stinging translucent jellyfish, which make me wish I brought my wetsuit. Despite the burning sensation I push on, moving further out along the reef. I am caught off guard by a huge school of jacks, who envelop me by the hundreds. I swim within the school until they disappear into the depths.

After our fruit snack we set-off across the bay towards the Tortuga islands. Half-way across we encounter a small group of bottle-nose dolphins. Despite my best dolphin impression they seem disinterested in any sort of interaction.

            We get back to the resort around 4 o’clock. The light is perfect for photographing the various seabirds, so I set–off towards the beach. I wade out into the bay to get amongst the feeding birds, bracing against the waves as they roll in. Once settled in place I am amazed at what surrounds me; hundreds of diving seabirds all feeding on the masses of sardines that have crowded the shallow waters. From standing on the beach and looking out I knew that the bay must of held a lot of fish, but I had no idea just how many fish were in the bay.  The fish made the water froth with frenzy. They brushed against my legs as the massive schools squeezed me in place. There seemed to be more fish in the bay then water, and this is no exaggeration. They were leaping out of the water in every direction, the setting sun reflecting light off their silver bodies, like sparkling diamonds spread over a blue blanket. Every bird in the area was in on the buffet. The fish were so thick that they swam into the holes of my sandals, wriggling between my toes. I try to focus on taking pictures despite the strange sensation...

      I watched as thousands of fish poured out of the waves that rolled in. At times it looked as if the waves were made of fish. Silhouetted in these turquoise waves were larger, more imposing figures. I was not sure what these shapes were, but it still made me nervous while standing chest deep in water. I was told later that they were “just” Barracuda. The Pelicans, frigate birds and royal terns swooped and dove after fish in every direction. It was very special to be in the middle of such a spectacle... After the sunset, I turned to walk back up the beach. Dead fish littered the sand, concentrated at the high tide line. I pick one up and examine it; the mouth is huge, way out of proportion with the rest of the 3-inch body. I reason that these sardines are filter feeders, keeping their huge mouths agape while swimming in a constant forward motion to collect plankton...

         Black vultures take advantage of this feast, squabbling with each other over a single fish despite the thousands that surrounded them in all direction...

         Bruce leaves for dinner and I eat some leftovers. I head for home just after dark and having forgot my headlamp it makes for an interesting time. Walking through a tropical forest at dark is an amazing experience. The limited visibility heightens your sense of hearing, and you tune into the incredible sounds all around you. Birds, insects, bats and frogs all contribute to the chorus.  However, the choir is shattered by a sudden roar from the tree tops…I jump out of my skin...(You can't see anything in the video...it is completely dark)

January 14^th

            This morning we do a beach clean up. Bruce and I are the only ones who show up. Despite the secluded nature of Tambor, the beach is not exception to the masses of plastic that floats throughout our oceans. Each plastic bag we pick up could potentially save a life, as sea turtles will often mistake plastic bags for jellyfish (their main food source).  When considering the issue of garbage and pollution, it’s easy to get discouraged at the enormity of our impacts. However, after spending just over an hour cleaning the beach we had removed a significant amount of litter, the result of which was clearly visible. Sometimes you just need to tend to your own little piece of paradise, and let someone else worry about their own. I hope that we can all find our own piece and embrace this concept.

            I see a local fisherman dragging in the days catch and I approach to inspect the large fish. They are jacks…a large, streamlined fish built for speed and ambush, the same kind the I schooled with at Quesera beach. After looking them over, the fisherman picks one up and insists I take it. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, I take the fish, “Mucho Gusto!” I walk back to the resort with my large fish and bulging garbage bag. I enter the gate with a smug look and proud strut. The tourists watch as I walk by, I smile and nod at back. They are clearly impressed by my fish, and I make no attempt to divulge the true story of its origin.

            That afternoon Bruce and I paddle up the river estuary when the tide is high enough to permit it. The estuary is a crucial contributor to the diversity and abundance of life in Tambor. From January until May, the Nicoya peninsula goes through a dry season, where practically no rain falls. The trees lose their leaves, much like our fall. However, this is the time when the trees also flower, to take advantage of the prominent winds that help to disperse their pollen and seeds. The sight of the bare trees blossoming with red, orange and yellow blooms is an awesome scene. The fresh flowing water of the river is what attracts the birds, and keeps things relatively green around the riverbanks. We paddle up the mangrove-lined river, and I am reminded of a warning from Bruce; keep your eyes out for crocodiles.  He tells me a story of how he once paddled through a croc infested river: Prior to his departure a local had told him about a tour boat that capsized not too long ago; the people had to swim to shore to escape the crocodiles, three were eaten. We see many herons, egrets, kingfishers and hawks. Mangrove swallows fly just over the water surface, and land in small groups on any partially exposed pieces of wood...

Fish swim by in the shallow water, ever weary of the herons and kingfishers. I see Basilisk lizards sunning on the riverbank. These lizards can run up to 50 ft across the water, which has earned them the nickname “Jesus Christ lizard”. The tide starts to ebb, and we follow it out of the estuary to surf the waves that are rolling in at the river mouth. Small kids are throwing nets into the river, retrieving heavy loads of sardines.  We pull into the beach and I add a few rules the book…

Rule #1 - The Stingray Shuffle: When entering the water, shuffle your feet forward rather then stepping down. This will scare stingrays away before they can impale your foot with a venomous barb.

Rule # 2 - Coconut Trees: Do not set your tent up underneath of them.

Rule # 3 - Shake Your Shoes Out: Scorpions like dark and dingy places to hide.

Rule # 4 – Don’t wade the estuary near dark: Crocodiles hunt at this time.

     Things will be getting very busy with clients, and multi-day trips soon. I will try to keep posting regularly. I will also try to get some shots of non-avian wildlife like iguanas, snakes, and perhaps the crocodile (If I can find him). If Nina decides to come in for a visit I will post one of her as well. For you folks that won’t be bored by it (a few grand-parents come into mind) I will end with a long list of the birds I have encountered thus far. Enjoy!

Squirrel Cuckoo

Tropical Kingbird

Rufous-collared Sparrow

Clay colored robin

Crimson fronted-parakeet

Orange-fronted parakeet

White throated magpie-jay

Bare throated tiger heron

Yellow crowned night-heron

Great Egret

Snowy Egret

Cattle Egret

Tri-colored Heron

Little blue Heron

Green Heron

Whimbrel

Willet

Hoffman’s Woodpecker

Cinnamon hummingbird

Barred antshrike

Great kiskadee

Social flycatcher

Scissortailed flycatcher

Scarlet Macaw

Nicarauguan grackle

Black head trogon

Ground Dove

White winged Dove

Inca dove

Blue-gray tanager

Scrub euphonia

Brown Pelican

Royal Tern

Magnificent frigate bird

Ringed kingfisher

Belted kingfisher

Green kingfisher

Mangrove Swallow

Common Paraque

Crested Caracara

Black Vulture

Turkey Vulture

Roadside Hawk

Lesser Ground Cuckoo

Striped headed Sparrow

Groove-billed Ani

Brown Booby

My goal is to photograph as many of these species as possible to show folks back home, however, many species are quite skittish and it will take a lot of time and patience for a chance at a decent photo. Stay tuned!

January 9 and 10th, 2011

Note: This post contains large pictures, you may need to use your scroll bar to get the entire image into view.

I am woken up by a strange noise, like someone smacking their lips very loudly.  In Canada we have houseflies, in Costa Rica they have house geckos. They serve as a haphazard alarm clock. It is 6AM and I take a quick walk around the grounds to add a few more birds to my list…Lineated woodpecker, Prothonatary warbler, Cinnamon hummingbird...I get back as Bruce is preparing to leave. He is taking me to Curu wildlife refuge, which is located about 20 minutes away. Curú contains Costa Rica’s first private National Wildlife Refuge and is an example of a successful sustainable development program. The area contains a total of 1,496 hectares, including deciduous and semi-deciduous tropical forests, mangroves, beaches, marine habitats, pastures, and plantations. A total of 1,100 hectares are protected forest (75%).

We arrive at the gate to Curu, which is tended by a friendly young Tico. The dirt road through the park winds it’s way through open grassland, with large palms and gigantic hardwood trees, many of which are at least twice the size of the largest white pines we get in New Brunswick. The only way to describe Curu is that it looks and feels just like you’re in Jurassic park, a real lost world. Once the road begins to near the ocean, palm and mangrove trees dominate. The forest floor is littered with coconuts, which cover the ground like the leaves we rake off our lawns in the fall. The road into Curu...

Hermit crabs are nearly as abundant, and they scurry throughout the undergrowth. They are well respected residents at Curu...

We get to the second gate, at the center of Curu and I get out to slide the high tech Bamboo gate aside. The house that the family lives in is built underneath a grove of palm trees with scattered buildings surrounding it. I get out to gaze around at the tropical paradise around me. Something catches my eye…I look down and watch as a spider monkey climbs onto the back of the truck and sits on the cab. I am completely dumbstruck. I ask Bruce if “it’s” friendly…he smiles. The monkey then reaches out a hand and grabs my own.  My mind is officially blown. “Nina” is her name…she is a spider monkey who now calls Curu home after getting too big for the family who kept her as a pet. She jumps down from the truck, keeping my hand in a firm but friendly grasp. She begins to walk me around the grounds…she stands on two feet and the likeness to a young child is uncanny. She climbs up onto the kayak rack, displaying the use of her prehensile tail, which functions as a fifth limb. I inspect her hands…they are exactly like an elongated human hand, but without a thumb, which her species lost some time in evolutionary history. Her feet are almost mirror images of our hands. Her palms look much the same as ours, and I compare my fingerprints to hers. I notice that her hands are better manicured then my own and make a mental note to trim my fingernails when I get home. After spending 15 minutes with Nina I feel it is time to make the next move, I am ignorant of spider monkey etiquette and want to take things slow. I reach out for her tail, which responds by curling around my finger. I gently unwrap it and admire the amazing appendage. The underside of her tail looks like a thick, long finger, with many segments like that seen at each finger joint. A closer look reveals an intricate pattern. The tail, which is so much like an additional limb, also has fingerprints, or should I say “tailprints”. This makes me very jealous as I contemplate the tasks I could perform with such an accessory.  Nina continues to hold my hand with both her tail and her four long fingers as Bruce goes over the plan for the day.

We carry the kayaks through a narrow corridor of palm trees, which opens up to a long beach surrounded on both sides by steep hills. There is no one on the beach, except the thousands of crabs throwing sand out of their burrows and a few sunbathing iguanas...

The bay is full of brown pelicans and magnificent frigate birds, they are packed in by the hundreds, all diving and swooping to catch the masses of sardines that have come into the shallows…We launch our kayaks directly into the swirling mass. The frigates soar within feet of my head, reminding me of pterodactyls, with their huge angular wingspans and relatively small bodies. They swoop down and snag fish from the surface with impressive agility, never wetting a feather. The pelicans have a different tactic, they plunge head first into the shallow water, dozens at a time, bobbing to the surface to snap down their catch before taking off for seconds. I am struck by the memory of a limerick I heard when I was young, and it echoes in my head for the rest of the day…

A peculiar bird is a pelican

For his beak can hold more then his belly can

He can hold in his beak

Enough food for a week

I’ll be damned if I know how the hell he can

We paddle our way through crystal clear water. Flocks of birds fly against the steep backdrop of tropical forest, which bounces the many sounds across the bay. It is like being in a giant amphitheater set in the Cretaceous period.  Bruce and I work on some paddling skills, and open-water rescues. I flip my kayak and find myself in the Pacific Ocean for the first time in my life, it’s much warmer then the Atlantic I am familiar with. As a bob up and down in the waves I hope that the sharks have had a good meal, and try to look as distasteful as possible. Once safely back in my kayak, Bruce leads me to a small beach at a point of land called Quesaera. It looks just like a poster I once saw; palm trees leaning over powder white sand and turquoise water, with a caption underneath reading “The poor long for riches, The rich long for heaven, but the wise desire tranquility”.  This is the beach where we will be setting up our base camp for the multi-day expeditions. From here we do day trips to the surrounding Tortuga islands, named after the sea turtles that lay eggs upon their beaches. Stingrays, moray eels, flying fish and giant Manta rays also guard the islands. We finish the day’s paddle and head back for home.

January 10th

Today Bruce has some administrative work to do, which gives me the day to explore my new home, after all, you know i'm not much for administration. Bruce tells me about a great hiking trail along the southern shore of Ballena Bay, where Tambor is located. I pack my stuff up and head off... The first part of the trail winds through a small fishing village. The tiny houses are made from whatever materials either washed up on shore or were salvaged from less fortunate structures. Chickens, dogs and cats roam the area. Despite the look of hardships, the people greet me with a smile and kindness rarely encountered in more "developed" areas.  These people appear to have very little, but when you live in paradise you don’t need much else.  The trail then becomes narrower and follows through the coastal tropical forest...

The trail periodically moves onto the beach, which is a mix of ancient looking rock and small sandy beaches…The rocks are covered with hundreds of Sally Lightfoot crabs.  I never thought of crabs as an agile creature, but these crabs are amazingly nimble. They scurry over the rocks like mice, and can even jump from rock to rock. I saw one clear a six foot gap between two boulders…

After hiking for an hour, I stop to take a rest under the shade of a large tree. It is the height of the day and the temperature reaches 32 degrees. It is unusually quiet in the forest and I take notice of this right away. Something falls from canopy and lands next to me, then another…I look up and watch as an entire troop of Howler monkeys moves through the tree tops overhead...I can make out adults from the youngsters, females from males. Some are mothers carrying infants, others are young trouble makers. If it wasn’t for the falling fruit they discarded as they passed I may have never noticed their presence. They pause overtop and a large male gazes down with an intimidating stare…

Delighted by my monkey experience, I turn and head for home…I walk a slower pace on my return route and keep quiet. I see much more in the way of wildlife and learn an important rule on how to get the most out of a tropical adventure. My stealth even produces a glimpse of more ominous residents…

I get back to the beach just as the sun is tucking away behind the hills. I take advantage of the warm light to get better acquainted with some of the North American winter migrants who call the beach at Tambor home. Whimbrels and Willets are medium sized shorebirds which leave their feeding grounds along the east and west coasts of Canada and the US to winter in the warm tropical waters of countries like Costa Rica. Smart birds! Here is a sleeping Willet...

And a foraging Whimbrel!

I will try to keep the posts regular. I havn’t had a whole lot of time to take photos or write and I have fallen behind a bit, as it is currently the 12th.  Tomorrow we start our first tour…We are bringing some newlyweds out on a day trip in Curu. We leave at 8AM, spend the day kayaking, snorkelling, and bird watching, than have lunch on Quesera beach (think tranquility). Bruce bought a bottle of wine to celebrate.  Cheers!

January 8th

This morning I woke up around 6AM, just as the sun came up. Being so close to the equator, the sun does not rise slowly, it goes from night to day in a matter of minutes. I had breakfast on the front patio of my hotel, which is in a very central area of San Jose. Small colorful houses line the narrow streets, plant life covers everything as if trying to reclaim the city for it's own.  Sitting next to me was an older man smoking a large pipe. I look the man over; he is wearing a field vest and has a large stack of bird books in front of him. This man has to be either a creepy bird stalker or an ornithologist (wait…is there a difference?).  I watch as he stares up at a large vine encrusted eucalyptus tree across the street while puffing away on his pipe. This guy has “legend” written all over.  I am curious as to what he is looking at. In a think accent, reminiscent of a Bond villain, he proclaims "Crimson fronted parakeet" concluding with a quick and assertive head nod.  The man then asks me what I am doing in Costa Rica. I explain the purpose of my stay and he hands me his business card, which reads; “Sahotra Sarkar, professor of integrative biology, department of philosophy, University of Austin Texas. He tells me to keep him well informed on the birds I find on the Nicoya Peninsula and suggests a few of his favorite destination. While finishing my coffee I identify 3 more life birds (birds that I have never seen). This may seem trivial to all but the avid birder, for whom it is a special moment.

            My driver, Raphael, picks me up. He is an energetic Tico (local Costa Rican) and informs me that he is an Ornithologist as well…Together him and Mr. Sarkar make up only the 2^nd and 3^rd Ornithologists I have ever met. The day is off to a great start. We drive towards Puntarenas, where I will take a ferry to get to the Nicoya Peninsula. San Jose is a busy city, with a stark divide between rich, and poor areas. There is a lot of construction, especially on the roads. Surrounding the city are large mountains, Raphael informs me that some are active volcanoes, and the ash cloud spuing from the tallest one confirms this. We wind our way through busy highways until we reach more rural roads. We hit the Pacific Ocean and drive north to the ferry terminal at Puntarenas. Soaring overhead are magnificent frigate birds (that is the actual common name, not a lame attempt at eloquence). They are superb flyers, masters of soaring with minimal energy expenditure. These birds can soar for weeks without landing. They even eat and drink on the wing, as they cannot land on the water (there feathers are not waterproof).  I haul my heavy bags onto the ferry and make the one hour crossing to meet my mentor Bruce Smith on the Nicoya peninsula. We drive along a winding road to Tambor tropical, where Bruce lives and runs his kayaking outfit.

            Tambor tropical is made up of a series of small luxury suites built of exotic hardwood such as teak and bloodwood. They are nestled under a group of large palm trees, directly adjacent to the ocean. There is central area with hot tub and outdoor pool and seating area typical of most tropical retreats. A tiki hut bar serves as the social center. The suites are spread out over the property which is teaming with vegetation and bird life. I unload my gear and talk with Bruce, trying to ignore the urge to seek out the sounds of the strange animals all around me. I quickly succumb to this curiosity and begin to have a hard time focusing on my conversations with Bruce. He picks up on this and tells me to go for a walk up the estuary, which empties into the ocean next to the resort. He says this with a wide grin on his face. I grab my binoculars and guidebooks and set-off up the river. By this point I am well aware of the level of biodiversity in Cost Rica, but am yet to experience it. What I find on that 30 minute walk will serve as a defining moment in my life, when I am introduced to the biologic potential of a tropical forest. I am greeting by a plethora of bird life…I count and record 26 new species in this short amount of time and miss dozens more.  A flock of snowy egrets glides over tricolored herons and little blue herons, which run and lunge after small fish. Brown pelicans and royal terns plunge into the surf in pursuit of small fish. A ringed kingfisher gazes down from his fishing perch, this species is the largest kingfisher in the Americas, twice the size of the familiar belted kingfisher. Small forest birds flutter through the tropical growth, there yellows, blues, and oranges mixing with red blossoms of flamboyant trees. Hummingbirds zip in all directions, freezing in place momentarily to grab a sip of nectar. I find a small pond with a bare throated tiger heron. I walk down to the ponds edge to get a better look and dip my toes in to cool off (Bruce later tells me that the small pond houses the resident crocodile). I watch a family of barred antshrikes glean small insects off trees. Kiskadees are the loudest and most boisterous residents, screeching and whistling as they fly from tree to tree. Scissortail flycatchers and tropical kingbirds perch high up on the treetops. They burst from their resting place to snag flying insects before returning to their perch in wait for the next suspended morsel.  I am absolutely floored by the abundance of life in this place, especially considering that I havn’t even left my resort yet. What awaits me in the depths of the protected habitat soon to be explored fills me with an excitement I havn’t felt since I was a young boy.

I return to the resort and hop up next to Bruce by the tiki bar. We enjoy a few cold beer with names like Imperial and Pilsner. I get to meet a small group of eclectic people and listen in on some Spanish conversacion. They invite us to a bon fire on the beach, I run and grab my head lamp. Around the fire are a mix of locals and tourists, about a dozen or so in total. I talk to one of the locals and learn a few words in Spanish, the only ones of which I can remember are Murcielago (bat, the flying kind, not the bludgeoning type) and pajaro (bird). Sizzling over the fire on a grill suspended by cinder blocks are a pile of oysters. I am informed that these were collected by a few of the locals. I ask them how and where they got them, they smile widely and inform me that they collected all one hundred or so oysters at about 60 foot depth…on one breath of air. We share a laugh.  One of the men nicknamed “Poncho” shucks and hands me an oyster after pouring Tabasco sauce and adding a firm squeeze of lime. I cradle it in both hands and inspect it with my headlamp. These oysters or “ostra” in Spanish are much bigger and more robust then those we are familiar with in Canada. Upon closer inspection of this oyster I notice a small crustacean floating amidst the lime and Tabasco sauce. Poncho notices my confused look and says “eat it all at once”. I deduce that the crustacean is a baby lobster, which lives inside the oyster shell until it’s large enough to go out on it’s own. Unfortunately for the lobster this symbiotic relationship is cut short. I shrug my shoulders and toss it back. I can feel a subtle crunch of the lobsters claws, but the shell is surprisingly soft. The oyster itself is very chewy and the texture is much like that of a Quohog. The flavor is awesome, and I eat many more before the night is out. After having a few more beer I feel adventurous (how strange) and decide to go for a walk to the edge of the ocean. I swing my headlamp towards the sound of crashing waves and set off. I am immediately confronted with a peculiar sight…the beach looks like a star map, with hundreds of constellations flickering on an off. Closer inspection reveals the source of the strange lights…spiders…thousands of spiders…their eyes reflecting the light of my headlamp like one thousand sparkling diamonds.  I continue on, eager to find more. I begin to hear activity near a pile of driftwood.  I find a large hermit crab in a spiny conch shell harassing a smaller less robust individual.  I seek out an even larger hermit and place him next to the couple, he bullies the small one as well. I give up on trying to settle the domestic disputes of hermit crabs and return to the fire. Poncho is the only one at the fire (how long was I gone for?) and is throwing the empty oyster shells into the flames, which produces a strangely pleasing smell. He tells me where he lives and the various critters that he has to remove from his house on a daily basis. He is an energetic man who swears like a sailor. He tells me that he lives with spiders and snakes, but that he doesn’t bother them as long as they don’t touch him, if they do he swiftly “punches those little &$@*’s in the face”.  Poncho and I go join Bruce at the Tiki bar and Bruce orders me a fish sandwich. The one sided dialogue that occurs during this meal is perhaps the strangest I have ever experienced, and as Bruce would say “straight out of the hitchhikers guide to the galaxy”. Poncho informs us that he is moving to San Jose to follow a strange but magnificent calling. He has been contacted by Moses, Elijah and Abraham and has crossed to the next dimension. He tells us that he has begun to channel energy and can now heal people, although he will never get any credit for this because he can’t prove it.  His confidence and charisma could inspire the masses, if only the masses were as bat-shit crazy as he was (in some place they are). I like this man and enjoy his hour-long rant about quantum physics, his conversations with Jesus, and the fifth dimension, which sounds like a great place by the way, judging by the elaborate description put forth by Poncho. We finish our fish sandwiches and Bruce decides it is time to drive Poncho home. He lives 5 minutes up the road, but we need to help him take his cinder blocks home (these served as our oyster roasters).  Bruce grabs the truck and Poncho and I clamber into the back amongst the pile of kayaking equipment. We drive up the rickety road, which snakes it’s way through the tropical forest. Vines climb up the power poles and spill over the road as the sounds of hundreds of insects and geckos roars up from the ditches. Ponchos house is located beside a wharf with a bar, so we get one last beer. Poncho sees some young attractive girls and tells me that he has to talk to them (I assume that Moses is putting him up to it, as I hear he was became quite the ladies man after parting the red sea).  I watch in the mirrored wall as Poncho asks for a kiss and is quickly dismissed. He comes back and says “You know, they say if you don’t use it you lose it…I think I lost it man”…I tell him not to worry about it. We drive home and I lay down to begin writing this entry. I quickly discovered a peculiar phenomenon that occurs while using a laptop at night in the worlds most biodiverse country; insects attracted to the soft glow permeate through the cracks of the doors and windows and latch on to the screen. For some this may seem like a horrific nightmare, for me the dozens of silhouetted shapes display the astounding diversity of the insect world.

 I have not had time to take any photos yet, but they will be coming soon! Love you all.

January 7th. Departure Date.

Mom and Dad drop me off at 430 at the Moncton airport. I get through security just in time for boarding. As I step through the gate I turn to see Mom and Dad pressed up against the glass outside the terminal like two puppies begging to come with me. Next time guys!  We take off and I pass out…the airhostess wakes me up, I wipe the drool off my face as we touch down in Newark, New Jersey.

I am in line at customs surrounded by a group of people who just flew in from Peru. I chat with a man who speaks broken English… he seems concerned with the weather (I have not looked outside). I soon realize that I have only 40 minutes to make the connecting flight to Houston, Texas…and that a large Peruvian family of 15 stands between Costa Rica and being stranded in New Jersey.  I wave down some airport staff and explain that I need to make a flight in 40 minutes but they don’t care, neither would I.  The line moves painfully slow…it’s 8:45 (5 minutes from takeoff) and I haven’t even claimed my baggage yet.  Time to be proactive, I ask one of the Peruvian family members if I can step ahead of them…they have no idea what I am saying…I whip out an American 20$ bill and point to the front of the line, apparently they speak this language quite fluently.

I get through customs at 8:50 with little hope. I frantically grab my two 60 pound bags and throw them on the cart. I run down towards security with my 120-pound death wagon, clearly making everyone around me very nervous. I roll my baggage towards a terrified baggage handler and scamper into security. By this time my plane should be in the air. I push my two bags through the scanner and remove my jacket, hat, and belt...then security points at my shoes, which I’m forced to remove also. I dash through the scanner, all clear. I then try to replace all of my stripped belongings, by this time it seems like some kind of cruel obstacle course.  I then discover that I forgot to remove my laptop…my bags must go through again, minus the laptop, which is being swabbed by Eddie Murphy’s twin brother in a very laid back fashion most unsuitable for my situation. It’s 9:00, no time to put my computer in my bag, or tie my shoelaces...I dash off for gate 75, which couldn’t possibly be further away.  I arrive at gate 75, shoelaces tangling and panting like I just ran a marathon. Too my surprise gate 75 is not the disappointment that I was expecting…everyone is still waiting to board. I look outside, it’s snowing…the flight is delayed. The horseshoe is still firmly in place (ask my Mom and Dad for further details of it’s location).

I strut on board the plane with a newfound sense of relief and excitement. Window seat! I sit down and stare at the two inches of snow covering the wing…this could take awhile. I slide the Continental Airlines magazine out of the seat ahead of me. On the cover reads “Fly Fishing Nirvana”; an article about fly-fishing in North America. It serves both as a reminder of what awaits me upon my return, and a promise I made to my father. We begin to taxi towards our runway and I watch as large snowflakes fall against the wing, which is stained green with de-icing fluid. They melt away with my last thoughts of winter. Take off!

Again, I pass out shortly after takeoff, this time face down on the fold out tray. I wake up to the sun beaming through the small window and stare down upon a much warmer climate. Scrolling underneath me is a vast patchwork of human development arranged in tiny little squares stretching out as far as the eye can see. I see forest fires for the first time ever. Judging by the sinuous nature of the rivers winding their way underneath, this land is very flat. Oxbow lakes pepper the landscape next to them, revealing the ancient process of erosion and demonstrating the ever-changing nature of our environment. I see the edge of the Gulf of Mexico as we touchdown in Houston, Texas. 

            I step out of the airplane and am hit with the most magnificent smell, I havn’t eaten yet, so any kind of food would smell good. A man cruises by me on an airplane luggage cart yelling “ITZ JUS LIKE DRIVIN’ A FORD!!” Yes, I am in Texas. I go to a seafood restaurant to grab a decent meal…I ask the waitress for the best dark beer Texas has to offer…she seems to know exactly the beer for me. She returns with 20 ounces of a now forgotten beer, foaming to the brim. She asks me if I would like the buffet, I tell her I’ll take a look…I carefully read each of the labeled foods…Mixed vegetables…pasta salad…garden salad…pretty basic…but then it starts…fried catfish, blackened catfish, sautéed catfish, catfish soup, shrimp kabobs, jumbo shrimp soup, shrimp salad…and the piece de resistance…DEEP FRIED ALLIGATOR…I am salivating like Pavlov’s dogs, I am getting the buffet. I finish my meal with full satisfaction and walk to my gate to wait out the time until my final departure. I continue reading a book that was given to me by a close friend entitled “The Adventurers Handbook” where I find a tiny gem of information that will come in handy whilst in Costa Rica:

HOW TO ALWAYS HAVE A FRESHER PAIR OF UNDERPANTS ON A LONG EXPEDITION

1.     Take two pairs of underpants or knickers, A and B

2.     On week one, wear pair A

3.     On weeks two and three wear pair B

4.     On weeks four and five, wear pair A, which, having only been worn for one week, are now fresher than pair B

5.     On weeks six and seven, wear pair B, which, having only been worn for two weeks, are now the fresher pair

6.     And so on and so on

Next post will be from the rich coast.