San Isidro & Rio Yanayacu
Our first full day on the river, and we immersed ourselves slowly, waking up before sunrise and heading out in skiffs to enjoy the world around us waking up. It might be that we are a bit more receptive early in the morning, the daylight not quite so bright; it might be that we are still reeling a bit from traveling so far and arriving in a place so different from North America, but the morning was magical. We were treated to a panoply of new birds and plants, from cecropia trees to reeds bending under the weight of yellow-hooded blackbirds.
After coming back to the Delfin II, refueling, and fitting ourselves with rubber boots, we headed back in to the same area, but this time we walked into a bit of the Pacaya-Samiria Reserve’s extensive varzea, or flooded forest. The trail wasn’t flooded right at this second, of course, but it would be soon. We could see the water line on the trees at anywhere from knee to hip level, and where the land dipped a bit, we could already see the base of trees awash in milky water.
Walking in the rain forest is a bit eerie and electric—the low light and still air are eerie, and the electricity comes from the frenetic activity of the invertebrates, from ants to mosquitoes. Leafcutter ants trekked across the forest bearing their vivid, green burdens, fire ants scurried up and down their host tree, and even the large and formidable bullet ants rushed out from their tree to challenge our presence. Cicadas at times cried so loudly that they drowned out the voices of our guides, who were sharing stories about both the scientific and the anthropological botany of this place.
Discovering a small, nearly translucent frog with red knees and elbows brought us all to a standstill. The lives of frogs in tropical rainforests can upend all we learned as kids in ponds and lakes. Some have pouches that they carry their eggs in for protection, some skip the tadpole stage altogether and hatch fully-formed, some are fed as tadpoles by their mothers on infertile eggs that she produces. Although we couldn’t find this jewel in any of our guides, it was a delight to speculate and to put eyes on one of the voices of the rainforest.
Our afternoon was spent a bit further along the Maranon River, exploring a place called Yanayacu. Along the tranquil shores, we were treated to fantastic views of a range of creatures. One highlight was the capped heron, a rain forest wader with an incredibly bright blue face and beak. Herons in Amazonia have an amazing range and variety, from the small striated heron to the huge cocoi, and a few have added decorations that their northern relatives would never dare. This brightness and flounciness, to invent a term, is one of the allures of this place.
One of the sightings that probably no one on the ship came down with hopes of seeing was most likely a tree rat. However, once you see a yellow-crowned brush-tailed rat peering out of its tiny daytime retreat, it’s hard to wonder why they don’t feature a bit more prominently. We were able to find two of these fine creatures peering out at us, but it did take some concentration to pick them out of the shadows. We could only imagine its long tail (which may be prehensile).
Heading back to the Delfin II, sunset dramatizing the sky behind us, we sorted through images, sounds, and impressions of the day, beginning to see pattern in this place.
