From the Delfin II in the Amazon, 1/31/2011, Delfin II

 

We are in the Amazon rain forest! The timing worked out pretty well, because the rain which maintains this incredible ecosystem stopped just around breakfast, so we got out immediately afterwards and head up the Yanayacu River.

 

Earlier, the early risers had woken up and were out on deck, coffee mugs and binoculars in hand, and they got a head start on our bird list for the week: white-eyed parakeets in flocks flying overhead, ringed kingfisher, black-collared hawk...and even a Scarlett macaw! All before breakfast!

 

With the overcast, everything had stayed cool at a delicious temperature when we started up the “Yanayacu” River. Together with the “Pucate” River, this drainage is the third largest of the entire Pacaya-Samiria National Reserve. The water which exits from the interior is “black,” or rather tea-colored...a well-steeped Earl Grey perhaps. The water originates with the rains here in the Amazon and has a lot of organic biomass decomposing slowly at the bottom of the lagoons and slow-moving streams. Very poor in nutrients and oxygen, even the fish have to come up for air to get their quota for survival.

 

Where we are tied up to shore, this “black-water” meets the “white-water” of the Marañon River. Not really “white,” it looks more like chocolate milk or “café-au-lait.” Both the Marañon and Ucayali Rivers bring sediments and nutrients down from the Andes Mountains, and replenish annually a top layer in the lowland flood forest, revitalizing life in the Amazon flood-forests, in the Pacaya-Samiria National Reserve.

 

By the time we returned from our morning expedition, we had racked up more great sightings: dusky-headed parakeets working on their nesting holes in a dead tree-trunk, rufescent tiger heron, green ibis, tamarin monkeys, three-toed sloth under way; the dangling woven nests of the yellow-tailed caciques and russet-backed oropendulas caught everyone's eyes and ears – their sounds are as interesting as their flashy plumage. A total of five heron species, two kingfisher species and numerous flycatchers were added to the list. One of my favorites was spotted early on: the miniature white-headed marsh tyrant. If I may use some literary license, they appear as if someone shrunk a bald eagle in order to come up with this little riverside bird.

 

Back on board we gathered and performed well our abandon-ship drill, which was followed by one of our expert local naturalists explaining about the reserve, orienting us with maps, getting us better positioned to understand the area we are visiting. Without fail, I am frequently asked about direction. For some reason it is very easy to lose one's orientation here in the Amazon – and we are not lost in the forest, either! Despite knowing that the Marañon and Ucayali rivers both flow towards the east, and one only has to look over the side to see the direction of the water, the winding, twisting turns mislead and confuse. Maps are good and a compass is helpful when the sun is overhead or covered by clouds.

 

The afternoon was an adventure of a different kind for some. One part of our group opted for a relaxed ride in the skiff up the Pucate River where another sloth was spotted along with more birds to add to our list. The rest chose to walk inland, rubber boots and all. We landed on the banks of a local community, crossed through their main square (a soccer field, BTW), and ducked into the rain forest just behind the school. It's not in session right now, as summer holiday starts mid-December and will start again in early April.

 

One of the highlights of the walk was the enormous leaf-cutter ant colony with jammed highways along tree roots and along the forest floor. With a little imagination one could hear the horns honking and tires squealing as pieces of leaves and flowers were rushed through traffic to the nest tunnel entrance. The weight-lifting champions of the ant world carried leaf fragments over their heads while smaller-sized ants rode the leaves and cleaned them of unwanted fungus spores before they were taken underground to the fungus factory. Yes, all this effort to make mulch. It's the fungus that gets fed to the delicate larvae, a kind of Gerber's fungus food for ant larvae.

 

Because it had been raining recently, the mosquitoes wanted attention as well, so after reaching the enormous buttress roots of a large kapok tree, we returned to the open spaces of the community to find the residents had opened a little bazaar with vegetable-ivory handicrafts, some extremely well-made (we came ashore prepared with Nuevo Soles with this possibility in mind). As many of our guests had brought with them school supplies and more, we had collected on board and brought with us ashore a bag of goodies to distribute among the children. In perfect order and (almost) no crying, pencils, notepads, finger puppets, hair bands, inflatable world globes and more were distributed fairly among the younger generation of this community. Siblings looked after each other, and it was heart-warming to see the care with which they remained in physical touch with each other.

 

A spectacular sunset was our reward on returning to the ship. This first evening on board we learned the personal histories of our local natural history staff members – how they arrived at where they are now, today, sharing with us their love of their homeland – the Amazon rain forest.