At 8.30 precisely the black plastic sheeting was rolled out down a steep muddy bank; gravel crunched underfoot; small fiddler crabs scuttled out of the way. Stepping from skippy plastic sheet over the gunwales into a 10', six person fibreglass dinghy was an acrobatic feat worthy of the 'cirque soleil' but we made it. Sorting out boat trim, too many adults on one side and Leroy engaged the Toleedo electric motor which quietly purred into life. With barely a ripple we moved off and into the river mouth. The start of our river adventure or perhaps not quite the start; that was negotiating the narrow forest gravel tracks down to the river mouth!!!
Behind the 12' high barrier beach covered with vegetation we could hear the mighty roar of pacific rollers breaking in the surf. Piled high was driftwood, entire tree trunks, washed down Costa Rican rivers during previous rainy seasons. The sun was barely up but the temperature was already climbing past 30 Celsius. Kirsten, our wildlife spotter explained what was going to happen, handed out binoculars and bird guides and officially welcomed us aboard. With a falling tide and barely three feet of water under the boat we skirted a 14' near vertical sand bank on our port side. Iguanas were already emerging from long, narrow tunnels in the bank to bask in the early morning sun. Kingfishers sat on driftwood branches over hanging the river. On the opposite inside bank of the meander, wading birds including herons, egrets and wimperels tiptoed across the flats searching out mini crustacean shell fish and worms. Some waded through the shallows, their reflections wavering in the muddy waters, the classic wading bird pose....stock still, head to one side, neck jutting forward; ready to strike at some small unsuspecting minnow or flatfish. Overhead soared falcons, cormorants and vultures, beady eyes watching for the smallest movement. Ahead the sudden flash of brilliant translucent blue or green...the kingfishers skimming low like avian fighter jet pilots, twisting and turning, swooping low, their reflections lighting up the water a mere inches below them. In trees above, troops of howler monkeys called across the vast flatness of the mangroves, marking out their territories, ensuring all neighbours knew who ruled which patch where.
And then the channel narrowed, waters darker, welcome shade fell across the slow flowing waters, a gratefully received respite from the burning sun. We'd entered the mangroves, an eerie environment of tall trees and massive tangled root webs, stabilising the silt/mud banks that rose 6' either side. With barely a bow wave or wake, Leroy expertly guided us through the 7' wide channel. He was an extraordinary source of information, his enthusiasm for flora and fauna delivered in Germanic English; he sort to be grammatically correct, his mastery of several languages putting us all to shame. He and his wife Kirsten told us stories about plants; snippets of amazing facts about birds and wildlife. Clearly a natural born poet, leroy's descriptions of the birds we saw were exquisite, drawing our attention to head markings, eye colours and glimpses of colour below wing feathers. He painted landscapes and portraits in words.
Fiddler crabs ran up tree roots that fell from the heights to the saline water. On mud banks larger blue backed, yellow clawed crabs scuttled for cover on burrows, behind foliage or driftwood. The air became still, the views a mere few feet into the tangled webs. With deft tiller control and judicious use of forward/ reverse, Leroy slotted us into the very heart of he mangroves. A true 'Indiana Jones' adventure.
Back in the main river channel, we headed upstream now on the lookout for crocodiles, a somewhat disconcerting experience in a boat whose gunnels were a mere 18" above the waterline!! It added to the adventure, intrepid explorers going up river to discover wonders unknown. Troops of howler monkeys with the cutest babies followed our progress as they tracked up upstream, stopping off to graze the juiciest fruit titbits en route. Iguanas eyed us sternly from their lofty positions on tree trunks. More herons stood motionless, beady eyes watching for fish swirls. Every log on every mudbank became a potential croc but we were looking in the wrong places for bulbous eyes just above the waterline betrayed a closer danger lurked! As it was.....none of the six metre long crocs ventured forth; plenty of juveniles but no monsters....and secretly I think we were all relieved. If you venture to the Ostinal area of Costa Rica, weigh up north, then go with Leroy and Kirsten for a river adventure with a difference. Boca Nosara river tours........one of the very best adventures we had in Costa Rica. Mucho gusto Kirsten and Leroy for your exemplary hospitality and guiding......leaving us with so many fabulous family memories.
No comments:
Post a Comment