Electric motors, German guides, crocodiles and mangroves!

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.

Stormy night

It was windy during the night, in fact quite stormy. Thunder rumbled across the foothills and whilst here was no rain, the winds were strong. Old branches crashed onto bungalow roofs with a regular monotony through the night. The odd 'crash' bought you out of a fitful sleep, alert to possibilities that a rather larger branch was on a direct  collision course with your bed but here we all are in the morning, safe and sound, albeit slightly sleepy. The clouds are low across the mountains, rincon de vieja national park swathed in grey, through which the occasional mountain peak silhouette emerges for a fleeting second. The wind is warm, breezy, swaying branches, bending back leaves, creating that rustling sound that crescendos and falls with each gust rolling down the hills. Our two dogs, who our son befriended yesterday have remained loyally on station throughout the night outside our doors under the benches. I don't know what they expect in return. Perhaps he is the first guest ever to take any interest in them

. They look on initial glances somewhat mangy and flea bitten but close up they appear lean, fit, well groomed. They are clearly working dogs. But sadly their time has come. Amongst much barking, whining and howling, the two dogs are rounded up by the gauchos........not that the two dogs didn't give them a merry and very entertaining runaround on the lawns but clearly there is work to do. This is a working hacienda and cows need to be moved along the roads. Relaxation time for the dogs is over......another day is starting at the hacienda!

Turtles and whales

Jose was a Costa Rican with a huge smile, a welcoming handshake, an easy going manner and you just couldn't help but warm to him instantly. He engendered trust. Captain of our boat, we were onboard a fishing boat that could take twelve easily but on this day had only four passengers and three crew.  We boarded via his smaller fishing dory, a well used vessel kept in excellent repair with an ancient yet serviceable Johnson outboard. Jose's main occupation is fisherman and a Scuba diver on his local reef. And what a stunning location, San Jullianno, a small village with three beaches; one, black sand, around the headland to the south. The other two formed two sides of a tombolo with a small island and reef at their seaward end. The archetypal tropical beaches with clean white sands, palm tree lined back shores and the odd tree on the beach under which to sit and chill. Protected by two offshore reefs affording only a narrow entrance the area was a natural harbour, safe to swim in turquoise seas. It had a real 'Robinson Crusoe' feel about it.
Transferring from the small dory onto the deep sea boat under the watchful eye of Antonio, Jose's son, and his friend, took careful anticipation of the swell and timing to catch the uproll. And then a three hour trip along the coast looking for turtles, dolphin and possibly even the rare encounter with humpback or pilot whales.

I have never seen so many turtles in all my life. The surface was covered with them. Swimming out to sea after the arribata of a few days ago, some turtles looked tired from their egg laying endeavours. Others clearly not so tired, their romantic nuptials rudely interrupted by our passing by. Out of the water, clumsy and cumbersome; in the seas, elegant, streamlined and majestic, able to follow the currents and swim down to the deep green depths at speed. We were on the look out for some turtles who didn't mind an encounter with the boat and soon some were found. We drifted to a halt, rolling in the gentle swell alongside some turtles who appeared inquisitive or perhaps just dismissive of us. The aim was simple and the rules very clear. You can enter the water, swim alongside but for only two minutes  and not to cause any stress. If the turtle moves off, you let it go; towards you move away slightly. Some turtles splashed flippers as a warning and we took heed. Others scrutinised us before swimming or diving deep. One allowed a closer scrutiny, its scaly flippers powerfully propelling it along at a slow speed, its head coming to the surface, glinting black eyes watching us. Powerful, bone crushing jaws,almost beak like remained shut. A turtle bite would do some serious harm! That two minutes alongside a turtle swimming in its company was magical and then it was gone. The majesty of this creature cannot be described.

What was to follow just eclipsed it though. A mere 10 metres ahead of the boat a mother humpback whale along with calf emerged. Jose backed off engine and boat so we were 15 m away and gently followed the whales at barely idling speed. Never close than for a few minutes, he'd back off and turn away frequently and then just wait. The whale was in no hurry. It would surface a few metres further on. After the fourth drift by, Jose called time. This was a man who understood whales, had a deep love and respect for them and it shone through. Watching whales close up is a deeply spiritual and humbling experience; it really brings home to you the need for environmental conservation. Wherever we have been in Costa Rica, this environmental awareness has shone through its people as a beacon of hope. It has been deeply moving, impressive and thought provoking. It has give us a deeper appreciation of the work of our own national parks and the need for coastal zone protectorates.

The search for dolphins proved fruitless. Always present,they had taken a day off. We saw wahoo running alongside the boat; shoals of tuna jumping out of the water sending the surface into a seething, bubbling maelstrom; our favourite moment, the little flycatcher bird, three miles offshore hitching a ride on the back of an amicable turtle. What a cool ride back to shore! When Jose discovered I owned a boat and had built it, privileged access was afforded to me and not the rest of the family. I was allowed up onto zone flying bridge to talk boats, electronics and as an extra pay of eyes for dolphin. Despite severe linguistic barriers....in. Pigeon English and Spanish we managed to converse, two mariners with a deep love of the sea and boats; of marine life and pride in our respective children. Below on the foredeck, my children and wife sat back against the bulkhead, dangled their legs over the prow and chilled and chatted with the boys. It doesn't get much better than this; calm seas, slight swell, bright blue skies, coo.ing breeze and the deep blue green of the Pacific Ocean. A stunning undeveloped coastline of sandy beaches, treacherous reefs and coconut palms and forested interiors. Utterly divine.

On the way back we diverted to see an extraordinary sight both fascinating and chilling at the same time. One of Jose's friends was piloting a 20' dory affair close to a reef. Behind hi m was an ancient outboard that had seen better days. Immediately in front mounted across the beam of the boat, a diesel truck engine, pristine in condition chugging away. From within the bowels of this engine emerged a hosepipe, a garden variety type. It stretched away over the transom to float some five boat lengths behind the dory. Surrounding the hosepipe were areas of rising bubbles and then slowly the reality dawned. Thin translucent clear plastic pipes ran at intervals from the main yellow garden hose. Jose through broken English and mime explained that each hose had a diver at the bottom looking for snapper, grouper and lobsters. I reckoned on four divers with plastic pipes in t heir mouths. It is rare that I am speechless but this was one of those moments. I guess scuba gear is expensive, not easily available in this part of the coast and 'necessity is the mother of all invention'. Whatever the case, I had a newfound respect for Jose and the fishermen of San Jullianna. Paski's tours in the Ostinal area of Costa Rica. An awesome morning. Gracias amigos, Pura vida!

The hacienda comprises of a series of terraced bungalow style rooms on three sides of a large grass area in which stand two enormous trees. 

A Swiss cheese plant of some form twists up one trunk to a height of around 20'; its leaves a mixture of deep bottle green and yellow streaks. It is dusk and a welcome coolness has descended after the fierce afternoon heat. A solitary palm tree with an impressive crop of yellow coconuts stands to one side, dwarfed by the two central trees. The evening air is still but alive with the sounds of crickets. The occasional dragonfly zooms by, hovering, darting back and forth.

 

The bungalows are white faced with a continual veranda that runs past all of them. Outside each room is a garden bench; ornate metal sides and wooden slats. Some have ornate scroll work seat backs. Comfy, not too ostentatious; classic. Across the veranda opposite each room are two wooden tree trunk pillars that support that part of the red corrugated to roof; and between each set of tree trunk supports is a hammock, one per room.

 

 

From my colourful net hammock I look out on a world that comprises well-tended garden and shrubs, two enormous trees and the stunning mountain scenery that is. Rincon de Vieja national park. The volcanic peaks and hills are hidden by dark grey ominous clouds but below them steeply wooded slopes with some patches of open grasslands descend dramatically to the foothills in which our hacienda is found. To the west, the sun has almost set, lighting up the clouds. From the ominous greys and blacks in the north, clouds become tinged with pinks, oranges and reds. There are even hints of purple and blue. It is a stunning sunset.

 

A breeze ripples across the trees and branches and palms sway to the whims of this invisible force. Up the path a Spanish couple sit out on their bench, the clink of saucer and cup and the metallic tinkle of teaspoon betraying their secret veranda coffee break. Porch lights flicker on and moths begin their nightly ball; a never ceasing dance in the limelight involving a demented tango that only results in scorched wings. Like so many creatures on this planet who attend balls, some insects choose to remain on the fringes, taking up positions on the periphery of the main event; the wall flowers! (I speak from experience, I am an outlier moth, attracted by bright lights but not bold enough to take a leading limelight role!!)

 

Gravel crunches in the  distance and the rumble of tyres on a hard packed gravel road increases in volume as the last car descends from the national park headquarters higher up in the hills. Headlights punctuate the ever darkening gloom. It is 6.30pm. Night is falling fast. The air is warm and filled with the scent of flowers and horses which, allowed to roam free, munch on the succulent grasses of the manicured lawns. It's time for a pre dinner aperitif. Its Costa Rica time.......and its down-right 'chill'in!' 'Pura vida!

 

The road to Monteverde in Costa Rica

The road to Monteverde is rough gravel, deeply rutted in places and exceptionally stony. Only accessible by the locals, the brave and the foolhardy (certainly not a local so I must fall into one of the two other categories) it is a bone shaking two hour drive from Tiliaran, the end of Tarmac roads.

Our four wheel drive Hyundai Tucson is an impressive vehicle. Not quite the ground clearance I would have liked but it had the grunt and permanent four wheel drive....and boy was it needed. Throw in steep mountain roads, tight curves with ravines on the inward down sloping curve and gravel which had a tendency to slide sideways and it was an interesting and at times exhilarating if not downright scary ride. As we ascended high into the central spine of Costa Rica, open fields of grass and ranch land turned to cloud forest; mists and fogs descended with bouts of drizzle fine rain. The wind at times buffeted the car. We passed through small villages, with a little school and not much else....mainly rural agrarian economies or ecotourism activities. Although rough tracks, roads were well signposted on the whole. We drove for an hour and a half in second gear......no truly......I never got above second gear and on the entire 40 km route I think I reached third gear once! Oh the excitement that generated!

 

You have to pick your route along every metre of track, at times weaving criss-cross from one side of the road to the other, at all times keeping an eye on the roadsides......ditches covered in crass or filled in with leaves....how deep? How secure? During our drive out of Tortuguero only a week ago we had seen the hazards of gravel roads.....an English couple in swerving to avoid a recklessly driven tourist bus, had come off the side of their road and into the ditch....the car resting at a precarious 60 degree angle and one set of wheels firmly entrenched in the deepest part of the ditch. No attempt at pushing it could get that vehicle out and fortunately our bus drive, very good naturedly, attached a chain and gently towed them out. But it took time, care and skill on everyone's part. Miraculously, no damage had been done to the hire car. But it was a salutary lesson for all we self-drive people......watch the roadsides like a hawk.

 

On the road to Monteverde we did just that and also held our breath. Breath holding moments were when exceptionally large Mack dumper trucks or juggernauts came careering around tight sloping bends on our side of the road and we had nowhere to go. We held our breath several times on the road to Monteverde!

Rattled around like peas in a pod we bounced along in second gear. Only once did we encounter a section of road which almost defeated us. On a steep slope but straight section of road we encountered a rut two feet deep that spread a Ross much of the road. There was no going around it. Two feet deep and about four feet in length it was an awkward one for whilst the front wheels may have gone through it the back wheels would be descending into it.....it was a potential grounding job. In addition the rut contained lots of fine gravel and when the front wheels went in......they spun wildly trying to get a purchase to drive out. No amount of four wheel drive was going to help.

But perseverance paid off and on the fourth attempt I managed to ease the car into the rut and engaging very low gear, we found sufficient traction on two wheels to gain enough momentum to inch our way out. I was pleased to see that even the locals behind me had problems...so I didn't feel too bad keeping them waiting for ten minutes. And throughout the four hour journey from Arenal to Monteverde the car bottom only scrapped the road once. Not bad driving if I say so myself. Not bad driving at all.

some more photos from yesterday

some photographs from yesterday

 

 

 

a grand day out

It was a grand day out. light winds but enough to bring 3 - 4 knots speed; endless sun and blue skies. Almost flat calm, Arwen drifted faultlessly under just the mizzen, proving to be the perfect fishing platform. Spinning a dexter wedge, the mackerel were obliging and all returned to see another day. I am a conservationist at heart! I used my all time favourite fishing rod, a little 7' spinning rod which is now a staggering 44 years old. Mum got it for me using greenshield stamps! Those in the UK of a certain age will remember greenshield stamps! That little rod has caught bass, mackerel, dogfish, bullhuss, gurnard, place, dabs, flounders and sea trout! It is one of the most precious things I own.

Anchoring in Cawsand to soak up the sun; overtaking a few modern cruising boats (I'm not competitive, honest!), it really was a great day and as always, Arwen performed flawlessly.

A grand day out I think!

Steve

Driving in Costa Rica!

The road junction at Liberia

Threw me a curved ball. Six lanes, no lane markings, overhead traffic lights; several lanes of traffic merging from about five directions, complicated by a number of cars doing u turns in front of me. It scared me witless! Thank The Lord I was driving straight ahead; to have turned would have been instant road crash!!

Monteverde cloud forest

A night time walk in the Monteverde cloud forest with an experienced guide called Ricardo has proved to be one of the highlights of the trip thus far. It started with a DVD presentation about the work of the biological station and then Ricardo led the four of us into the forest along well made trails.

known as the 'owl' moth for obvious reasons

As dusk descended and despite the heavy rain, the forest came to life. Stick insects blended in with bushes to be almost invisible; nowhere near as invisible as one insect, which took us several minutes to find even though it was right in front of our faces.

spectacular trees with epiphytes

 

Ricardo, a gentle giant and a Quaker with a calm, reassuring and gentle manner enjoyed watching our sense of astonishment! His passion for the forest was so evident and a joy to behold.

a variety of caterpillars

this nasty millipede sprays cyanide!

Bright green scarab beetles, assorted moths. A possum, several birds and a roosting hummingbird all under branches to shelter from the rain.

a sloth just lazing around

Star of the show.......a large armadillo which totally ignored us such was its desire to find earthworms. It actually ran around our feet studiously ignoring us..........we stood like statutes barely breathing. This was an upfront, up close encounter with nature.

so many different beetles

stunning hummingbirds

coatis scurry across branches

More stick insects, some frogs on epiphytes and then to cap it all an extra.....a little detour to the hummingbird place down the road. Here they leave out feeders for these little birds but as Ricardo has discovered, hummingbirds aren't the only creatures that like a drop or two of the sweet nectar.

At night when hummingbirds go to roost.......the bats come out to play......and feed.......swooping like aerial acrobats....flitting through the dark and into the torch light glow on the feeder, barely stopping to take on nectar before swooping back into the anonymity of darkness. Who says bats can't see!!

plants are so well designed with clear channels to shed water

many trunks are covered in miniature forests of mosses

and tiny delicate ferns