Nov. 19th 2012

I arrived in Costa Rica on the 12^th after an easy flight from Toronto. I was grateful to see two familiar faces once I landed in San Jose, Jeimy and Carlos had made the drive from the peninsula to pick me up.  We made the two-hour drive to catch our ferry in record time, weaving through the gridded streets of busy urban centers, dodging dogs and red taxicabs before arriving at the ferry terminal with not a minute to spare. Rainbows pierced through the menacing formations of thunderclouds, the hot acrid air of Puntarenas was heavy with moisture. It is the end of the wet season here in Costa Rica, a time I have not yet experienced, when the familiar dusty roads are transformed into tangles of vegetation as the forest is given yet another chance to reclaim her ground. It begins to pour just as we arrive on the other side of the Gulf and we rush into the car to make for the small town of Tambor.

This begins my third season in Costa Rica and there are many interesting things to be done. I have already begun to work with the manager of Tambor Tropical to initiate the creation of a system of trails that will be used for naturalist tours. Much of the work has been done from my stay last year, when we set the framework for the offering of guiding services at the hotel. We have now set-up a series of tours and activities that will be offered to hotel guests, including day adventures to the national park systems and local areas of interest like the mangroves, remote beaches, and primary tropical forest. Hopefully this will encourage guests to take advantage of the local sites within Tambor and promote it as a true eco-tourism destination while providing prosperity to the local people.

Photography will be another focus of my time here, as it has always been. I have been working early mornings, getting up with the rising sun to photograph the various areas in Tambor and some of the wildlife. We have 30 journalists coming at the end of the month and I hope to provide them with some images to be used to promote tourism in the area. Here are some shots from areas around the hotel…

Sunrise in the front yard

Tambor Tropical at night, I live in one of the top suites

Towering royal palms over the hotel

Sign at the lagoon we placed to deter dumping in the area

Looking up from the bar

I will also be working on a few photo projects while I am here. I have made arrangements to be introduced to the biologist in charge of the reintroduction of the scarlet macaw here in Tambor. The scarlet macaw is the large red, yellow and blue parrot that many are familiar with as the quintessential member of the genus Ara and an icon of the tropics. This incredible species was extirpated ( locally extinct) from this area due to habitat loss, hunting and collection for the pet trade. A program has been developed here in Tambor to raise Macaws and reintroduce them to their native habitat. I hope to photograph and write a story that will focus on the process of reintroduction and conservation of the species as well as its benefits for ecotourism.

Another story I hope to complete during my stay here will focus around mangroves, with one inhabitant in particular; the mangrove hummingbird. I discovered that this extremely range restricted (only in Mangroves of CR) and endangered species (IUCN red listed with only 2000-5000 left) still has a foothold here in Tambor when I photographed a female visiting my feeders at the hotel.  After a bit of research I learned that this species feeds primarily on the nectar from the flower of buttressed tea mangrove (Pelliciera rhizophorae) which happens to be the rarest mangrove in the world, known from only ten populations in central America and declining rapidly as coastal development encroaches upon its fragile habitat. If the mangrove hummingbird was here, then so was the tea mangrove, at least that was my theory. 

It wasn't long after I settled in that I took off to find it, tucked away somewhere among the more common mangrove species. I would arrive in the early morning, the low tide permitting my entrance into this strange world just as the rising sun illuminated it enough to safely make passage. For three mornings I searched through the saline woodland, cutting small trails around the giant prop roots of the red mangrove and avoiding the mud mound burrows of fiddler crabs. The finger like projections of pneumatophores, specialized mangrove roots adapted for breathing, stick up through the thick mud that heavied my boots. There is only one creature I truly loathe to encounter here, and that is the killer bee. My previous encounters have been unpleasant to say the least but the most recent did have a silver lining. While searching the mangroves on the third day, an ill fortuned throw of the machete sliced through a mass of vegetation to reveal a low hive of the more aggressive cousin to our European honeybee.  The subsequent, well-placed sting just above my upper lip sent me wheeling back on a return course through the freshly cut trail stopping only after the menacing sound of angry Hymenopterans faded from behind me. The sting from a killer bee is much more powerful then that of other species. I slumped down to take a drink of water and ride out the uncomfortable sensation cursing through my face. At first I failed to see that I had set my gear down beside the buttressed roots of a Pelliciera rhizophorae, the rare tea mangrove. A quick search of the area revealed another smaller tree just a short distance away. The pain faded quickly as I studied my find, it is exciting to see in real life what was once only an image on a dimly lit computer screen. I grasped in my hand one of the large bulbous seeds that hung from the tree in unique ornamentation. Some were fully developed, ready to fall to the ground, the pointed tips piercing through the mud to begin the next generation. Others were but small swellings, an early result of the pollination of a symmetric white flower, the beauty of which is unparalleled in the mangrove family. Had its conception been the result of a hungry mangrove hummingbird? I was eager to find out, but my route back would soon be inundated by the incoming tide. I collected my things and made for the short river crossing that would bring me back to the beach.

My goal will be to photograph the mangrove hummingbird and the tea mangrove upon which it depends, two species on the brink of extinction, intimately tied together in face of an uncertain future. If I am successful in getting the photos and resulting story published it is my hopes that this hummingbird, an endemic species that is found only in Costa Rica, could be used as part of an awareness campaign to promote the protection of mangrove forests.

I get to see a  lot of really cool wildlife while in the mangroves, from neotropical river otters and coatimundis to the more familiar raccoon, although a different species called the crab-eating racoon. One morning I saw two young racoons climb up a tree, I set my camera up at the bottom and used a remote shutter release to capture a series of shots as they as they came down to feed.

Two young crab eating raccoons

Last one down!

Mangrove roots and finger like pneumatophores

Mangrove roots

Here is a large strangler fig tree. Strangler figs grow by climbing up another tree in a vine like fashion. Overtime the host tree will be smothered by the surrounding strangler fig which can grow very large and live for hundreds of years.

Now for the birds! There has been lots of activity in the areas around the hotel. The lagoon near the river mouth has been especially good in the early morning and late afternoon. A faithful Anhinga has been seen daily and even a Boat-billed heron has chose to hang out in the bushes overhanging the water. Lots of North American migrants as your familiar backyard and forest birds are showing up as they arrive on their wintering grounds.

Anhinga

Squirrel cuckoo

Cattle egret

Summer tanager

Social flycatcher

Rose-throated becard female

Yellow-warbler on palm fronds

Remember that ruby-throated hummingbird that was in your yard this past summer?

Yesterday, a pair of collared Aracaris, a species of toucan, were feeding on fruit in the area near the lagoon. I followed them around for at least an hour as they patrolled the treetops. Every now and then one would regurgitate a piece of undigested fruit, juggle it in the air a few times with it’s impressive beak before swallowing it again. The strange behavior seemed like some sort of bizarre circus stunt and really suits the character of these forest clowns. 

Collared Aracari

Collared Aracari

Collared Aracari with regurgitated fruit

Hopefully I will find and photograph the mangrove hummingbird soon, and I hope to begin photographing the macaws as well. I saw my first pair this evening while I was scouting locations within the mangroves. A fond hello to everyone back home and thanks for your kind e-mails! Oh, and I almost forgot about my friend Nico, he is perched contently on my shoulder as I write this and I will post some pictures of him soon. He has certainly entered his awkward teen years, if there is such thing for a parakeet.
Cheers,
-Nick

Nico

After a few long days of travel I am now back in Canada, leaving CR was even harder then last year but this time it will be only 6 months until my return. Before wrapping up the blog for this season I wanted to make a post about a special friend that became a big part of my day to day life in CR. Meet Nico!

Nico is a young orange fronted parakeet that I met earlier this month when I was photographing hummingbirds behind Tambor Tropical with a couple clients. I found him under a palm tree, thin and battered from a likely encounter with a cat, the feline scourge of Costa Rica. He needed help so I wrapped him in my t-shirt and brought him into my room where he spent the next 3 days in my shower. It was clear that he had a broken wing and injured foot, and I was unsure if he was going to live. Those first few days were a testing time for both of us; the painful bites of his sharp beak left many scars on my feet and hands, not to mention that having an angry parakeet in your shower is not conducive to the maintenance of proper hygiene. I told him a number of times “I don’t like this anymore then you do, and as soon as I find a place for you to go, this arrangement is over.”
After three days and no further progress on finding him a home I realized that he needed a proper living space, so Jeimy and I fashioned a makeshift cage with some mesh wire that we found in the storage shed. Nico was content with his new home, complete with natural perches and toys fashioned out of zip-ties, much better then the cold floor of the shower. Lucky for him my cabinet was full of bird food that I fed the wild birds and he became particularly fond of the blueberry suet that I had brought down from Canada. He began to gain weight, his attitude changed dramatically and he stopped biting me. Indeed, over the next few days he was no longer content in his cage, and at 530am every morning he would become very restless, waking me up with a low squawking sound. I would cautiously reach into the cage and he would immediately walk over and grab firmly on with his beak. Having suffered at the hand of this formidable tool before I was timid at first, but soon realized that he was just trying to grab on so that he could climb aboard.  Birds use their beaks for everything that we do with our hands. At first he was content with being placed on top of his cage, but then he started with the same restless behavior that he displayed while inside. Then one day he climbed onto my hand, made his way across my forearm, reached up to grab the sleeve of my t-shirt and hauled himself upwards to happily sit on my shoulder. For him this was the place to be and from this point on he was with from sunrise to sunset. We had breakfast together, photographed and bird watched, and even rode on the backs of motorcycles together. He became a popular character at the bar, getting free fruit from all the girls and small parakeet sized portions of whatever I was eating. If he wanted a particular item served at the bar, he would climb down from my shoulder and hop onto the plate for a sample. Among his favorites were banana, mango, rice and beans, and the jam from the top of my toast. He would even jump onto the hummingbird feeders when I was changing them to get a quick sip of the sugary nectar. I never realized how demanding a bird could be…he would begin his usual “come get me” routine at around 530, from which point he would be with me until he went to sleep on my shoulder and I could transfer him to his cage without any issues. My bond with Nico didn’t make it any easier to leave CR, but I know that he is in good hands with Lyn, one of the bartenders at Tambor Tropical, who is taking care of him for me. We have already had a couple skype conversations. Here are some more pictures of Nico…

Nico and I, enjoying a rice and beans breakfast

Hanging out while I work

 

I am now getting ready for another summer living on my sailboat in St. Andrews. The boat goes in the water on the 14^th of May and I will soon be doing all the work necessary before the crane lifts it into the water. This is also a particularly exciting time to bird watch with the influx of migrants that will be appearing on our shores and in our woodlands. I will be writing a blog with bird reports from the Passamaquoddy area and if anyone is interested I will link it to this blog. It has been fun writing about my experiences in CR and I would like thank everyone who has followed the blog and/or sent me e-mails. I am set to go back to CR in October so until then, I hope everyone has a great summer and I look forward to spending some time with many of you.

Cheers,
-Nick

300

Aside from the quest for the Jabiru we also visited a small town on the Caribean side called Upala. Again, I was fortunate enough to stay with relatives of Jeimy and Carlos who were as kind and generous as always. This time I was able to talk Carlos out of slaughtering a pig upon our arrival…it seems like every adventure we go on a pig must die to mark the beginning. As I did not want every birding adventure to cost a pig it’s life, I told Carlos that I was happy to eat only rice and beans for the next four days.

 Upala is very close to the Tenorio volcano, inactive for now, it’s flanks are shrouded in pristine rainforest that hold many potential lifebirds. A wet tropical forest represents the pinnacle in birding. Novice birdwatchers see nothing, amateur bird watchers see little, but the birding elite are given a chance to test their skills in the most diverse and challenging habitat on earth. It isn’t the number of birds that makes it an experience to remember, but more in the manner that you come to discover them. You can walk for hours and see nothing, the ancient forest does not give away it's inhabitants easily. An experienced jungle birder moves slowly, using mainly his ears to locate the slightest hint of activity. Most bird species in these areas are specialists, taking advantage of a specific food source and becoming extremely proficient at exploiting it. The rainforest is a vertical world; microhabitats transform themselves as they stretch upwards towards the sky along giant rainforest trees. This leads to the fascinating phenomenon of mixed species flocks. At first you may hear the call notes; the chirp of a warbler, the cry of a woodcreeper, or the ­­­call of a tanagar…then they are upon you, and for a few minutes you are caught in the middle of chaotic but precisely coordinated assemblage. Birds from many different lineages group together to exploit the huge diversity of insects found on single rainforest tree. The objective is simple; eat as much as you can without getting eaten yourself. One species may specialize in searching the dried leaves at the base of the tree, while another looks for insects in bromeliads. Another may creep up the trunk of the tree searching under the bark, while another sallies for insects in the canopy. None of these birds are competing directly with eachother, and with so many eyes covering all the angles, their chances of surviving an attack from a hungry predator are much better.  A mixed-species flock typically has a "nuclear" species that appear to be central to its formation and movement. Species that trail them are termed "attendants". Attendants tend to join the foraging flock only when the flock enters their territory.  When a large flock moves through it will seem like birds are all around you, but rarely will you get a good look at a single species. Positive identifications come only with patience and determination, for as quick as it came, the flock will soon be gone and you will be left with your guide books strewn over the forest floor, your bags discarded haphazardly along the trail, and your binoculars twisted into a uncomfortable clutter.

        Our hike ended at the sight of Rio Celeste, or sky blue river. This beautiful mountain stream winds it’s way down the volcano, toppling over the many steep cliffs and producing incredible waterfalls. 

 

The name comes from the light blue color produced by a reaction between sulfur and calcium carbonate that upwells from a fissure along the streams route. It was easily one of my favorite areas that i’ve visited in CR with a truly enchanting feeling.

A couple weeks later, we took off yet again for the Poas volcano national park. Carlos and I decided to play the “birders” card and called the head office of the park with a special request to be let into the park at 6AM, two hours before it opens to the public. We explained that we were very professional birders and had to complete a special analysis of the regions birdlife. To our surprise this worked and we were able to have the massive 1.7km wide crater all to ourselves, long before the large crowds of tourists arrived. The volcano is at a height of 2,300m with a crater approximately 290–300m deep. At the center of the crater there is one of the world's most acidic lakes. 

 

The crater was surrounded by a tangle of cloud forest. It was so dense that many of the birds showed no fear, having no natural predators that could actually pursue them through the thick vegetation. This is where I hit my 300th Costa Rican bird, at 6:35am just after the yellow-thighed finch, and just before a sooty-capped bush tanager. It landed within arms reach, the fiery throated hummingbird, a beautiful local endemic and the perfect 300^th bird. 

300

Cheers,
-Nick

Colibri

I am just out the door for another birding excursion, but I thought i'd post something to break up my neglect of the blog...The last week or so I have been working the hummingbird feeders that have been established for about 3 months here at Tambor tropical. The activity has come to be more then I had expected with eight species visiting the feeders daily, including the endangered and extremely range restricted (only CR) Mangrove hummingbird. I have been working on a technique to photograph hummingbirds using only natural light. Most professional hummingbird photography is done with 4 flashes or more. The flashes make it possible to freeze the wings, which beat at up to 80 times per second. I selected flowers that I knew the hummingbirds liked and placed them near to the feeders. I then set-up the shot from a tripod and a cable release to trigger the camera when the bird flew into the flower.

Cinnamon hummingbird

Rufous-tailed hummingbird

Cinnamon hummingbird

Green-breasted Mango (male)

I will try to post more images when I get back from my trip. We are going to visit the Poas volcano and surrounding rainforest where I hope to find my 300th Costa Rican species.
Cheers,
-Nick

March 26th, 2012

I felt the structure moving beneath my feet, it was slight, but enough to remind of my precarious position perched 30 above one of the largest and most important wetlands in Central America.  The observation tower looked as though it was made with recycled rebar, with most of it’s continuing stability being provided by a strangler fig tree that had grown up through it’s twisted bars. It was a questionable structure to say the least, half metal, half tree, Mother Nature had extended its life far beyond that provided by the original building materials. I had climbed up the ladder that was zip-tied securely (?) to the rest of the assembly. My tripod and scope in one hand, I carefully used the other to guide my ascent to the viewing platform where I can could scan the vast expanse of wetland for my objective. It’s the grip of the dry season, when life is locked in a desperate battle to stay hydrated or perish. The lush and bountiful wetland of Palo Verde, flooded by the swollen Tempisque river during the rainy season, was now reduced to a few shrinking ponds that concentrated the remaining marsh inhabitants. It was here that I would have the best chance to see the bird I had set out for on this impromptu trip with my good friends Jeimy and Carlos. I set-up my spotting scope just as they joined me on the platform, being careful not to step on the rotten pieces of wood that would give way to a long fall back to earth. I began to scan…The heat waves radiating up from the parched, savannah like earth distorted my view so that the flocks of birds appeared to rise up in a shimmering mass of wings, feet and feathers. Despite the difficulty, I began to identify the species; black bellied whistling ducks, muscovy ducks, blue-winged teal…great and snowy egrets, white ibis and northern jacana…Such hardened intention while birding turns the mind into a machine, identifying birds in the same manner as a scanner scans a price code…Glossy Ibis! I life bird for me and I took a quick moment to savor this obstructed and precarious view. Next, I scanned through the standing crowds of wood storks…. At over a meter tall they were impressive birds in their own right, but I was after something much larger, a sentinel of these marches that would tower above even the most endowed of wood storks.  Scanning again; over the teals, past the crocodiles, and through the spoonbills, and then…for just a second, a figure materialized just long enough to be shattered by the effects of the heat shimmer. Was that it? I couldn’t be sure, and by no means would such a sighting suffice, maybe for a glossy Ibis, but not for this bird. We had to get closer...

Descending the tower was more nerve racking then climbing up it, but we made it down and drove the dirt road a bit further to where a small cow path led out onto the dried grassland and to the crowded ponds. We walked through a small patch of dessicated forest, our last shelter from the relentless sun. My attention was drawn upwards as a tiny ferruginous pygmy owl whistled out a greeting.  I thought to myself… If I was looking for a marsh sentinel, this must be the gatekeeper. 

We slowly crept out onto the arid grassland to a section where we would have an unobstructed view of the birds. The parched grass crackled under my feet as I set-up the scope and began the search. We had halved our previous distance, and now, through the scope, I could make out the finer details of this amazing gathering. It was a chaotic mixture of swamp creatures, dominated by the many bird species. The huge number of large crocodiles seemed out of place so close to their usual prey, who seemed relatively unruffled by their presence. Birds were packed together into avian gangs; the spoonbills fed in one corner, their heavy spatula bills slicing side to side through the water. Huge flocks of ducks were settled on exposed mudflats, and would sometimes explode into the air in a massive display of coordinated flight. Black-necked stilts and pectoral sandpipers wove in between the legs of the larger birds, poking their bills deep into the mud to harvest the last remnants of suitable prey found for miles. I was packing life-birds into the back of my mind, taking them from the “too see” folder and filing into the “have seen” folder, saving them for a later date when I could write their name into my book while enjoying a cold beer. Afterall, it was hot, the wind blew through the grass and directly into your face like a fiery hair dryer. I was on a mission; Palo Verde is the last stronghold for this species in Costa Rica, this was their marsh and I wasn’t going home empty handed...

My sunburnt hand continued to guide my scope through the standing hordes of wood storks who looked less then enthusiastic with their current accommodations. Then, standing knee deep amongst a flotilla of large crocodiles, was the bird I had come for...the Jabiru. Two of them actually! Attentively keeping watch over the heads of the other marsh goers. Their presence was every bit as impressive as I had hoped for; a massive stork, at over five feet tall it is the tallest flying bird in the Americas, with a sinister grin that make their true intentions somewhat of a mystery. If this bird tried to deliver a baby to my front step, I wouldn’t even answer the door. Then, as suddenly as we had spotted them, the pair took off, revealing a powerful and graceful wingbeat. For a birder this was a special moment; this was the largest bird I had ever seen take flight, a window into the past when even more massive birds dominated the skies. The hot breeze lifted their heavy bodies skyward and they circled directly overhead until they disappeared into the suns scorching rays. I took a look around at the flat, dry flood plains that extended for miles and miles in each direction and it suddenly dawned on me; there were no people…we were the sole visitors of the park. I was in the middle of one of the most important wetlands in the world, with two of my favorite people, thousands of birds and of course, my prize, the Jabiru.

The Jabiru Stork

Cheers!

-Nick (292)

March 20th

I have spent the last week with two professional wildlife photographers Greg Basco, and Greg Dowing. Greg Basco has been published in numerous books, calendars, and magazines, including National Geographic. He has also had his images honored in the BBC/Veolia Wildlife Photographer of the Year contest (the most prestigious nature photography competition in the world) and the Nature’s Best Windland Rice Smith contest (the most prestigious nature photography competition in North America). Besides being an incredible all-around photographer he is also the founder and owner of Foto Verde tours, Costa Rica’s first an only photo tour company that caters to photographers of all skill levels. The other Greg; Greg Downing, has been traveling the world teaching professional and amateur photographers for more than a decade hosting his instructional workshops and seminars. As an internationally recognized photographer, his numerous publishing credits include books, advertising campaigns and editorial publications such as Birding Magazine, Outdoor Photographer Magazine, Birder's World, National Geographic.

I had connected with them back in November about meeting with me in Costa Rica to explore some options to bring photo tourism to the area. Having the chance to shoot with these guys was an incredible experience and truly inspiring to a young photographer. I got to learn a lot about the business of wildlife photography beyond taking pictures and we shared many laughs a long the way. Unlike some eccentric type photographers, these guys were totally down to earth and a pleasure to guide. Our days were very busy scouting locations for shoots and discussing future plans. 

We visited Curu wildlife refuge to photograph  three monkey species. The white faced capuchins are the most boisterous and can be hard to photograph as they move through the park. 

White-faced capuchin monkey

A more cooperative subject was Trina, the resident and rescued spider monkey. She was once a pet before being given to Curu.  Despite having free range over the park she chooses to be close to people. 

Spider monkey

Spider Monkey, black and white

We also did a bit of macro work with Acacia ants, which as their name implies, live only in acacia trees. A symbiotic relation exists between the tree and the ants where the acacia provides a home for them, while the powerful bite of the ants protects the tree from would be predators. The ants will even kill any encroaching plants by injecting formic acid into the leaves and stems. The tree also produces food for the ants via extra-floral nectar glands. Cool! Here is a shot of an acacia ant peering out of it’s home in a bullhorn acacia thorn.

Acacia ant in bullhorn acacia thorn

Hanging out with such experienced photographers really helped me to get more creative with my own photography and try new things. There seems to be a trend in bird photography to only photograph birds when the sun is low and at your back so the subject is evenly lit. I am guilty of this and would like do more with my photography. Working with different light angles can produce some dramatic lighting, take for example, this image of a pelican in strong backlight…

Brown Pelican

We are just getting over one of the largest blooms of red tide the region has seen in recent history. Red tide is a type of algae that can bloom in huge concentrations when the proper environmental conditions arise; it turns the water a deep shade of red/brown and makes the turquoise water appear like molasses. Certainly not pleasing to the many honeymooners and vacationers in the area, and it can even be deadly to many animals (including humans) that choose to eat anything that feeds on the algae, like oysters. Filter feeders concentrate the algae in their gut, the algae produces saxatoxin, a deadly paralyzing agent that can kill in minutes.  However, at night the same algae produces bioluminescence when it is disturbed causing any water current, wave or even the movement of fish to produce a bright glow. The most out-of this world experience occurred when the tide had receded, depositing the algae into the sand. Every footfall caused the sand to light-up, sending shockwaves of bright blue light radiating from every footstep. Mixed with a few beer, this provided hours of dizzying entertainment.

We spent 3 nights trying to photograph this incredible phenomenon. The first night we went to the mouth of the Panica river and photographed the bright blue currents created when the river emptied into the ocean. Needlefish lit-up like foot-long glowsticks as they chased the small blue flecks of baitfish, and we even saw the glowing outline of stingrays as they moved into the flooded river mouth. Photographing in difficult conditions is always very stimulating, and it is easy to get caught up in shutter speeds, ISO’s and apertures. When I slowed down enough to enjoy what was going around me I was certain that it was the most bizarre scene I had ever encountered. There is no photoshop trickery in these photos, this is the real scene using a 30 second exposure to capture the movement of the glowing water.

Bioluminescent water drains from the Panica river into the ocean

I then brought them to a very special tree far out at the tip of the bay. The solitary tree, as it’s known to the locals, is a mangrove tree that has held it’s ground way out on an exposed slab of lava rock far from the less tenacious members of it’s kind. At the high tide the seawater rises to the trunk of the tree, giving it the other name “jesus tree”. We left in the late afternoon and hiked along the coast through tropical dry forest, arriving just as the sun was setting.

I knew the scene would lend itself to a great landscape shot, but  the possibility of bioluminiscence made the it even more interesting. Both Greg’s agreed that it was one of the most unique experiences in nature photography that they had ever seen, and from these guys that is saying a lot. Again, we used long shutter speeds to capture the glow of the incoming tide. In this shot we used a flashlight to light the back of the tree.

The Solitary tree with bioluminescent waves in the background

The owner of Tambor Tropical has built a private school just outside the village of Tambor, which gives families an alternative to the public school system. We were asked by Juan Carlos, the manager at Tambor Tropical if we could visit the school and talk to the kids about the life of a professional wildlife photographer. It was a great experience to interact with the kids and show them some equipment used by wildlife photographers, like a monster 600mm F4 lens!

By the end of the day every kid in Tabor Bay school was aspiring to shoot for Nat Geo and I am positive that they will have some great talent to choose from in 20 years or so.

It looks like things are getting very warm back home, almost as warm as down here! Hope you are all enjoying the early spring (summer?)
Cheers!
-Nick

Kings

           Back home from an interesting trip through southern Costa Rica. Our initial plans to spend a day in Corcovado national park were discarded due to the logistical hassle of simply entering the park. Instead, we wandered around its outskirts and soon found ourselves in a small valley surrounded by the lowland tropical rainforest characteristic of the area. Dusk was quickly approaching and we had no where to stay, but in typical Costa Rican fashion, Carlos ad Jeimy managed to secure a small house for us to rent, after tracking down the owner at a local gathering. We had no food, so we went to the local store, which seemed to have nothing in stock but sugary treats and bananas. I started to worry, but quickly remembered that hunger could be curbed with a few cold beer. I asked the young clerk and promisingly, she hurried out back. Upon her return it became evident that I would be quenching my hunger tonight with 6 cans of Old Milwaukee, never has such a terrible beer tasted so good.
            The small house set amongst the jungled hills was an enchanting place. No cars, no people, no worries. The sounds of thousands of animals echoed throughout the valley, bouncing back and forth off its stadium like walls. The sounds of toucans seemed to come from all directions and never stopped until the sun had set.

The next morning I was up at 5am with Carlos to begin the very serious effort of recording the local avifauna. I was generously provided with many lifers, including the “King” who has long been on my list of must-sees. It was in a rainforest clearing that he flew over us, circling low and showing his contrasting black and white plumage and his harlequin head. The king vulture has disappeared from most of it’s former range due to habitat destruction but the Osa peninsula is one of the last strongholds for this incredible species; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/King_Vulture

We departed the Osa in the afternoon, and set route up the Talamanca mountain range to San Vito, located at around 4000 feet above sea level.  I spent the next 4 days with Carlos’ family who showed me the same warmth and hospitality that amazed me during my previous visit. They had also taken the time to put out bananas each morning for a week prior to my stay so that I would have some birds to photograph. San Vito has an incredible diversity in birds, particularly the colorful and photogenic tanagers. 

Cherrie's tanager (Sargento) - female

Blue-gray tanager

White-lined tanager, female

Baltimore oriole

Cherrie's tanager (Sargento) - female

Cherrie's tanager (Sargento) -Male

I also got to visit the largest forest in Central America; Amistad.  Ancient tree shrouded mountain tops that overlooked the rest of the Talamanca mountain chain is it descends into Panama. A recent scientific expedition into the forest led to the discovery of 12 plant species, one dung beetle species, fifteen amphibian and three reptile species new to science. Although I didn't discover any new species, I did find this cheeky emerald toucanet.

All in all I got 46 new species of birds on this trip, my 200th Costa Rican bird was the non-distinct grey-capped flycatcher. My list now stands at 245 species and my new goal is to hit 300 before my return home.

I have been spending the last couple days at a small estuary where I have constructed a fish-trap that works with the tide to corral small minnows. It has been over two weeks in the making with many changes as I learn how to attract my quarry; the green kingfisher. Last night I had my first success. After 2 hours of sitting in a 40 degree tent blind, a female and male came to the perches I had set-up and began to hunt the fish that the receding tide had deposited in my fish trap. I watched as the kingfishers hunted the fish in my small pool and noted that at least nine out of ten attempts were unsuccessful. After a successful dive, the bird would beat the unlucky fish against the perch repeatedly to stun it before swallowing; a behavior I hope to photograph in the future. I quickly discovered that I had over-estimated the size of these tiny birds and was set-up to far from my subjects. I don't like to rely on cropping a photos so today I am going to return for a second-try at getting a frame-filling image. Even still, I thought i'd share a few of the cropped images...

Green kingfisher (male)

Green kingfisher, female

Green kingfisher shaking off water after unsuccessful fishing attempt

Male green kingfisher

 Blind photography often consists of a lot of boredom, punctuated by exciting action. One of the best parts of blind photography is when an unexpected, hard to photograph species shows up. This is what happened when a gray-necked wood rail unexpectedly decided to check out the pool.

Gray-necked wood rail

Anyway, I have a date with some kingfishers! Hope everything is well back home, thanks for all the kind e-mails. 

-Nick