I have found that retiring too soon after dinner—particularly a very ample dinner like those served on board the Sea Lion—does not lead to a good sleep. Perhaps the three-hour time change contributed. I woke exceptionally early, and found it impossible to get back to sleep. (I was engaged, too, in watching that sense of groundlessness of which I wrote earlier, the pitching and rocking of the boat.) Still, we were due anyway for an early rise, and a 6:30 departure aboard the Zodiaks...
... for a probing look into the mouth of the Aguajitas River, which reaches the Pacific Ocean on the Osa Peninsula.
It was, indeed, a thrilling ride. Not thrilling in the roller-coaster sense, but a thrill for the heart and soul confronted by the spectacle of nature virtually unspoiled, on an exquisitely beautiful morning, before the onslaught of the heat and humidity. We counted sightings of: sleepy-eyed iguanas (spot him here on the tree branch!)...
... tall, elegant herons...
... and snowy egrets, the dart of kingfishers and the howl of appropriately-named howler monkeys...
We spotted two pairs of scarlet macaws in flight—too rare a sight now that these spectacular birds are on the endangered species list. We caught a glimpse of a Jesus Christ lizard scooting across the surface of the water on his two hind legs—the feat the earns him his name. Our expert Zodiak steersman...
... navigated us through the inlet and along the banks of the river to where it narrowed to barely more than a stream. With nothing but whitewater ahead...
... he managed a skillful u-turn to bring us back to the bay.
We returned to the Sea Lion for a quick buffet breakfast, and were out on the Zodiaks again before 10AM, headed this time for the Playa Caletas in the Corcovado National Park. Offered the choice between the “long walk” and the medium one, we opted of course for the former. We passed a troop of playful Capuchin monkeys and found ourselves on a long uphill climb in late-morning humidity. Patty, the Smithsonian lecturer, spotted a toucan in a distant tree and pointed us in the right direction. She was amazed to watch, through her binoculars, as the bird dipped down, immersing its whole body in a water hole up there in the fork of the tree, taking a bath and shaking its feathers off—a first, in her own long experience.
We hiked higher, on muddy, iron-rich orange earth, past massive trees reaching up for the light many feet above us, through a mass of foliage and vines...
... grown in fantastic whorls independently and around the tree trunks. Here's a "walking tree":
I think I never saw so many different greens, some startlingly bright, some translucent, some dark, opaque… Every leaf and shrub, it seemed, offered home or sustenance to some small creature of the forest—and our guides offered us a great teaching about the interdependence of all things. It was, as billed, a long hike, and a sweaty one, but immensely gratifying. Here's a few more shots:
We returned to the Sea Lion after lunch for the short trip from Playa Caletas to San Pedrillo, where we hit the Zodiaks yet again and made another wet landing. Of the two offered hikes, I chose the “Waterfall Walk,” and Ellie—after much walking already that day—what was billed as the more moderate walk. In fact, the guides oversold the difficulty of the waterfall walk, with dire warnings about the “arduous” climb, the need to negotiate mud and tree roots, and to ford a river along the way. I think some—including Ellie—were unnecessarily intimidated by the warnings, because the hike was certainly no more difficult than that morning’s, and the fording of the river easily manageable.
And it was a delightful afternoon. Not much different in the way of wild life and flora, although we did spot a crocodile lazing on the river bank—a sighting that produced much kidding about the dangers of fording the river up ahead. As it turned out, the greatest hazard was the slippery rocks. The water was ankle-deep, no more, and, as always, there were strong hands to help unsteady walkers to cross. (We have learned to use the “wrist-to-wrist” grip for security in boarding and disembarking from the Zodiaks, and staff and guides are always ready to provide support.)
The waterfall at the head of the river was quite beautiful, a favorite spot for photographs...
We paused there a while, then head back down to the pool just below another, smaller waterfall, where we had been promised a refreshing dip. Hot and sweaty by this time, everyone jumped in. From earlier experiences of this kind, I had expected the water to be cold. But no, it proved to be cool enough to be refreshing, but by no means shivery cold. It was sheer delight to sit under the waterfall and take a natural shower in the cascade of clear mountain water, and to enjoy the joyful shouts of children—both young ones and adult! There are pictures…
Dinner on board—an excellent prime rib, with of course a choice of fish or vegetarian for those so inclined.
Another difficult night, sleep-wise. I continued to find it hard to adjust to the unfamiliar circumstance of sleeping on board ship, and Ellie is bugged by alternating sultry heat and the blast of cold from the air conditioner. And the ship sailed, this time, through the night.
Still, we woke and raised our blind to the spectacular sight of the Golfo Dulce—a long stretch of tropical beach...
... lined with tall trees and coconut palms...
... beneath the bluest of blue skies. We heard the harsh call of macaws, and spotted the flash of scarlet between the trees. We were not so lucky as some, a small group who had taken a Zodiak ride to the shore, and were able to get some wonderful pictures of the birds perched in the trees and feasting on whatever macaws like to feast on in the early hours.
After breakfast—the usual generous spread!—we boarded a Zodiak ourselves and headed for the beach, where the crew had already set up kayaks for our use. We had chosen a double, given the limited number of singles available, and it took us a while to adjust to steering the small craft with the rudder. I found myself constantly overcompensating, with the result that our course tended to veer from left to right, increasing the amount of work needed to maintain the forward motion.
But we did manage a fairly long trip up the mouth of the Rio Esquinas...
... a rather wide delta lined on every shore with mangroves...
... their roots visible a good couple of feet above the waterline...
... and reaching down to the silt below. Aside from the many water birds, there was not much to be seen in the way of wild life—though those who had chosen the Zodiak transportation rather than kayaks did manage to spot a boa constrictor sleeping in an overhanging branch. It was, though, a very quiet, very pleasant way to navigate the waters and be part of the landscape. The best analogy might be walking rather than driving through the countryside—a far preferable way to see the world.
It was hard work, and we were pretty much exhausted by the time we returned to our starting point and grateful, once back on board, to sit back and listen to a useful talk by one of our guides, Fico Chacon, about the history of Costa Rica. The country has been spared some of the tyranny that has characterized some Central American nations and developed, in the course of the twentieth century, a functional social democracy. It has not been without its social unrest, of course, and is currently experiencing many of the socio-economic problems shared by a large number of the world’s nations. But all in all, it’s hardly surprising that the country attracts so many expatriates to live.
Lunch. Rest. A pleasant sleep, helping to compensate for an unrestful night. And after the nap, an opportunity to go swimming from the ship’s fantail, in water that was nearly bath-tub warm and a glorious view of the Golfo Dulce to enjoy.
And, late afternoon, after another short leg in the Sea Lion’s voyage, a final Zodiak excursion for the day—this time to the fabulous Casa Orquideas, the “house of orchids.” This is the sea shore home and garden of an American couple, Trudy and Ron MacAllister, who arrived here thirty years ago and never left. They have been working ever since to create their own veritable Eden at the edge of the rain forest. It is remote from civilization, accessible only by boat, but open to visitors able to make the trip, or brought here, like ourselves, on group tours. Not many, then, will make it to this extraordinary spot, but those who do will be as richly rewarded as we were.
Ron and Trudy...
... were on hand to greet us with a few words about the history of the garden. Then we were free to wander at will, or to join one of our guides on a walk through the garden. The chief wild life attraction was, as usual, the birds. They flock to this place for the endless variety of blossoms, and for the trees and plants that offer a rich source of fruits, nuts, insects...
and other edibles. We saw numerous toucans...
... and, high in one of the trees, a handsome hawk—along with several exotic smaller species whose names, regrettably, I did not note down and don’t recall.
There were butterflies, too...
... including the spectacular, neon blue Morpho...
... flitting from plant to plant: more than one hundred species of orchids, birds of paradise, bromeliads…
It was near sunset when we returned to the Sea Lion, in time for the “cocktail hour” on the upper deck. An enjoyable dinner and good conversation with new friends before a last stroll on the deck and bed time.
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