Atun Poza and the Pacaya River
The early birds got plenty of good sightings today! Because the river level is high (but not as high as it will get in a couple more months), we were able to enter a lagoon near the ship where the waters were still, and tall trees leaned over the water, dripping vines. A huge thrill came when we first heard, then saw, a flock of 10 blue-and-yellow macaws fly overhead, talking noisily; horned screamers were seen sitting on delicate branches. These large birds are often seen in the tippy-top of trees and it seems like sleight-of-hand that they can rest on branches that don't seem able to support a sparrow, never mind a horned screamer the size of a turkey. Two three-toes sloths were spotted resting in the crook of Cecropia trees, and a bare-necked fruit-crow perched for a long time, exposed, so we could examine its strange black and white plumage; neotropical cormorants swam around in the lagoon, and the occasional dolphin broke the still surface. Our constant companions such as the “mama viejas” or black-collared hawks were around, as well as the familiar oriole blackbirds, kiskidees, donacobious, great egrets and Cocoi herons.
The options after breakfast were various – a skiff to the lagoon for those who didn't manage to go earlier, a walk in the forest to a huge kapok tree, or stay on board until mid-morning, when all groups would meet at the one-room school house. The walk was great, at a fairly quick pace in order to avoid the mosquitoes and the boot-sucking mud made for some hilarity (though no boot was lost). The tree was truly impressive, loaded with epiphytes and lianas, ferns and bromeliads. Further into the forest we walked until we reached a stream chock full of water lettuce where the famous Hoatzins were both heard and seen – exotic-looking birds with a fancy crest, blue face the size of large chickens, but oh-so-bizarre. As chicks they have hooks on their wrists, which allow them to climb trees after falling into the water to escape predators. Herbivorous, too, their flesh is fortunately unattractive to the people of the Amazon, although our doctor mentioned they are thought good for those who suffer tuberculosis.
On first landing in the community, our guide Lucho had been approached with the news that a fisherman of the village had caught (unintentionally) an anaconda in his fishing net at the far end of the lagoon. By some miracle it didn't drown before the fisherman arrived. This is not the first time this has happened, the last time being almost a year ago. Although the people may not eat the snake, it most likely wouldn't get off easily because the people know these snakes will take their chickens and ducks and if large enough, who knows what else. Anyway, in most likelihood, it would have been killed to avoid any danger or loss to the community, so of course we started thinking of ways to get possession of it for later release deep in the Pacaya-Samiria National Reserve. As money was not an option, I settled on offering my nice drybag with zippers, pockets, straps enough to make anyone happy (and the wife, who was making the deal, was happy). About half-an-hour later, she returned, the exchange had been accepted, so anaconda in hand, the bag was handed over (don't worry, the snake was also in a bag).
Meanwhile, the schoolchildren and our guests were having a fine exchange of their own – of information, song, questions, and lots of photos from us, of course. These kids were great, and until the ship pulled away and disappeared upriver around the first bend, they were hanging out on the banks watching us with who-knows-what thoughts in their minds. I am often asked that question: “what do they think of us?” I have yet to think of a way to find out the answer.
By three o'clock we were on our way. By skiff, we first stopped off at the ranger station to sign in for our visit into the interior of the Pacaya-Samiria National Reserve. We were to travel around 30 miles on the river, but go only seven miles as the toucan flies. Cruising under clear blue skies, the sun was bright and hot but the breeze refreshing. We didn't stop for the familiar, but only for the unusual and rare in order to make headway. A sloth stopped us almost immediately, as it was spotted racing up a Cecropia tree. We had plenty of time to position ourselves for some excellent photos, noticing the marks on its back indicating it was a male, anxious to reach some luscious-looking leaves at the top. Later, some howler monkeys caught our eyes, and then red-and-green macaws flew overhead squawking, followed shortly by blue and yellow macaws! Another sloth was seen (sleeping), and soon we arrived in the large, tranquil lagoon of Yanayacu where some of us went swimming with pink dolphins as company (but not too close). The sun was headed for the horizon by the time we were finished, and left us a few minutes to try our hand at fishing for piranhas. Unfortunately, no-one was successful, but we will try again tomorrow in another river. By the time we were half-way back down the river, it was dark enough to try our hand at spotting the nocturnal wildlife that had come out. Using a powerful spotlight, we saw the spectacled caiman hidden among water plants, common potoos in the trees, fishing bats flying close to the skiff as we sailed along; one group managed a glimpse of kinkajoos in the brush, while others saw a large troop of squirrel monkeys, still active, still leaping, despite the darkness.
Back on board we all dove for the showers before heading to dinner, friends, smiles, music, and then....bedtime!
