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joint herpetology and birding expedition over the weeks of Christmas
2002 and New Years 2003 was populated by a bold and adventurous
breed of traveler. These were the brave souls who faced down the
twin monsters of the season's commercialization and braved the perils
of entering airports at the busiest season of the year. This group
was more than ready to face anything that the Amazon had to offer!
Apart
from one missing suitcase (that showed up the following day), everyone
made the trip uneventfully, though many left home just in time to
miss the first big snowstorm of the winter season. Some of the group
didn't even wait to get out into the rainforest before starting
to look for herps - a nighttime drive down the partially completed
road to Nauta turned up 6 snakes - three of which had unfortunately
already been run over. The rest were rescued and released a safe
distance off the road. Since everyone arrived in Iquitos on Friday,
the next afternoon (Saturday), we loaded up our riverboat, the Tucunare
(right) and headed downriver, rather than waiting for Sunday AM
to depart.
The first stop was an overland paved
trail (traveled by 3-wheel taxis) between the Amazon and Napo Rivers.
This was a productive herp stop, producing a fossorial (burrowing)
banded amphisbanian or worm-lizard (Amphisbaena fuliginosa).
As luck would have it, however, this uncommonly encountered specimen
had already been nearly bisected by the wheels of one of the 'motokars'.
The curse of flattened snake-shaped creatures didn't last long,
fortunately, as we also found a large specimen of a South American
water snake (Helicops angulatus) and also a synbranchid
eel (Synbranchus sp.) in one of the trailside ditches.
Frogs abounded, with several species of Hyla, Eleutherodactylus,
Bufo, Scinax and Sphaenorhynchus turning
up in the puddles and vegetation along the trail. Above left is
Sphaenorhynchus lacteus, also known as the greater hatched-faced
tree frog, names longer than the creature itself!.
The
following day we completed travel down the Amazon River and headed
up the Apayacu River to the Sabalillo Forest Reserve. Even though
this site has some spectacular primary rainforest, the trip down
the Amazon and up its tributary had the birders enraptured - the
open river edges are great locations for getting excellent views
of many species, including terns, raptors, various flycatchers,
several species of vulture, kingfishers, herons, oropendolas and
caciques, toucans and aracaris (including the lettered aracari at
right - the "letters" are the bill markings), flycatchers,
tanagers, parrots and much more. The Apayacu River did not fail
us either, and we all had good looks at spectacular blue-and-yellow
and scarlet macaws one or more times during our boat travel on the
river.
Repeat clients who had visited Sabalillo
previously were pleasantly surprised to see the finished facilities
there, and also appreciated the expanded trail system. Arriving
in the early afternoon, everyone was soon oriented to the trails,
and off in search of birds, herps, plants, sounds to record, insects
to photograph, and spectacular forest to explore. The Sabalillo
Forest Reserve is the least known of the three Project Amazonas
field stations that we utilize, and there seems to be fewer herps
in general than at the other two sites. Nevertheless, Sabalillo
does have its regular specialties, such as the giant monkey frog
(Phyllomedusa bicolor - left), and there are always "surprises"
on every visit. The first snake and "herp find" at Sabalillo
was a gorgeous but venemous orange-ringed coral snake (Micrurus
hemprichii ortonii). This escape artist managed to flatten
its body to an alarming extent and slipped right through the brand
new top-of-the-line snake tongs wielded by two of our group with
extensive snake-handling experience. There was a considerable stream
of invective against the manufacturer of the tongs, and some immediate
tong-modification activities once everyone was back at the boat.
The
escape of the coral snake had a golden lining, however. While revisiting
the site where the coral snake escaped (in the absolutely vain hope
of finding it again), a strange knocking sound was heard well off
the trail. A half-hour of investigation (at night on a steep hillside)
pinpointed the tree from which the hollow knocking sound seemed
to be coming. A daytime visit showed that the tree did have a hole
in it about 15 above ground level, and Segundo, our seasoned boat
captain, chainsaw operator, source of laughter, and expert tree
climber was drafted to investigate. The result was a very attractive
bamboo treefrog (Nyctimantis rugiceps - at right). This
species was first reported in Peru in the late 1990's, and is now
known from several locations north in Peru north of the Amazon.
It was our first encounter with the species, however, which made
it without a doubt the best amphibian find of the trip.
Departing the Sabalillo Forest Reserve,
we headed back down the Rio Apayacu, across the Amazon, and through
a narrow bird-rich channel to the Rio Orosa and the Madre Selva
Biological Station, and a few days later, furt her
upriver to the Paucarillo Forest Reserve. Again, past visitors were
astounded at the facilities improvements, made to accommodate a
university course earlier in the year. Once at Madre Selva, we were
within the 15-mile diameter circle designated by the National Audubon
Society for the Rio Orosa Christmas Bird Count (CBC), which we have
now conducted for 6 consecutive years. For the CBC, all bird species
recorded for the designated count week are recorded, while on count
day (the middle of count week), numbers of individuals of each species
are also recorded. This
years count was remarkably successful, with 929 individual birds
of 161 species recorded on count day, and 248 species recorded for
count week. Some of the bird highlights included excellent looks
at the pavonine quetzal, an Amazonian umbrellabird, many cotingas
and fruit-crows (spangled, plum-throated, purple-throated), white-crowned
spadebill (a first sighting for the area), many other flycatchers,
and a fine assortment of antbirds, tanagers, toucans, woodpeckers,
raptors (like the juvenile double-toothed kite at right), finches,
herons and more. Some birds were located primarily by their calls,
including various tinamous with their beautiful haunting whistles,
the aptly named screaming piha, and Lawrence's Thrush, an unassuming
robin-sized bird with an incredible repertoire of calls mimicking
dozens of other bird species. The bird "find" of the trip
was as unexpected as the bamboo treefrog. While traveling by skiff
at night on the river and looking for frogs, tree boas, potoos,
owls and nightjars, we were treated to the sight and sounds of the
improbable oilbird - a large, nocturnal, hook-billed, fruit-eating,
cave-nesting, echo-locating bird that has never been reported from
the area previously, and would seem to be at least 1000 km away
from the nearest possible nesting cave. Interestingly enough, the
very first Brazilian record of this species was recently reported
from near the Brazil-Peru frontier not too far from the Rio Orosa
(that record will be published soon, so sorry, I can't give any
additional details at the current time!).
Madre
Selva wasn't just a haven for birds. The herpers and insect people
also had a wonderful time, and many many rolls of film were shot.
Night skiff trips to a nearby floodplain lake produced a number
of hylid frog species, and the combined efforts of everyone, but
especially the keen eyes
of the crew and guides, helped to find a number of snake, lizard,
amphibians and numerous fascinating insects and other arthropod
species in the forested areas of Madre Selva. Even flatworms made
the "WOW" list (right). Mammals too, helped round out
the sightings. During our boat travels, as well as while kayaking
on the Rio Orosa, expedition members
were treated to the presence of Amazon pink dolphins as well as
the smaller gray river dolphins. At Sabalillo and at Paucarillo,
we had excellent looks at monk saki monkeys - a large monkey that
looks like its tailor had a fetish for black shag rugs. Almost daily,
we were awakened by the rousing and boisterous dawn chorus of dusky
titi monkeys, and several times and places we had opportunity to
observe the smaller saddle-back marmosets, pygmy marmosets, and
squirrel monkeys. At Paucarillo, a real treat while relaxing on
the upper deck of the Tucunare riverboat was the sight of a giant
river otter swimming across the river. In most of the Amazon, these
magnificent otters have been hunted to extinction for their skins,
so we were fortunate to see one and to know that they are still
present in the area. My herp favorite at Paucarillo was a juvenile
rainbow boa (above right). In the right light, these snakes are
as beautiful as any brightly colored tropical bird.
Our
expedition was greatly enhanced by interacting with the local people
- trading sessions at nearby Yagua Indian communities gave everyone
the opportunity to trade items of use for the local people for handicrafts
made from rainforest fibers and seeds, and also to visit villages
and schools and learn more about life in remote parts of the Amazon.
On occasion, local people also brought us snakes, frogs and lizards
that they had encountered, and such events are always a good
opportunity to find out more about local knowledge relative to the
wildlife of the area, and to encourage them to conserve these creatures.
School supplies brought by various expedition participants were
donated to the local school to provide badly-needed materials for
teaching children such as this girl with her pet marmoset.
No trip can be complete without doing
something bold, adventurous and (in some people's opinion) stupid.
This time, the hike to Lunes Cocha (Moon Lake) near the Madre Selva
Biological Station fit the bill. Water levels in the area were higher
than normal, but several of us decided that we wanted to hike through
the swamp forest to Lunes Cocha anyway, to try and see the worlds
only leaf-eating, flying, claw-winged and diving (the nestlings,
at least) bird - the hoatzin. Setting off about 9 AM, we hiked along
the higher first part of the trail without incident, apart from
filling our boots with water a few times when stepping into flooded
holes in the path. The first creek crossing (chest deep - as long
as you managed to stay on the submerged log bridge) should have
given an indication of what was to come, but there was no turning
back now. Leaving anything that we didn't want to get wet at the
first creek, we forged onward. Great views of collared trogons and
and the shocking masked crimson tanagers lured us deeper into the
swamp.
The swamp forest leading to Lunes
Cocha is a drunken no-mans-land - the soil is boggy and shakes when
walked upon. Trees have no firm rooting and tip over every which
way. Islands created by the 1000's of aerial roots of Coussapoa
trees dot the landscape, providing handy ladders to climb up into
the canopy (climbing up roots to get to the canopy??!). Oh yeah,
and did I mention that most of the trail was waist to chest deep
in water filled with the fallen fronds and trunks of extremely spiny,
extremely common palms? In a few places the trail disappeared due
to recent treefalls (a great opportunity for a close look at all
those canopy orchids and other epiphytes) or due to excessive flooding,
but there was no turning back - we had set out for Lunes Cocha,
and we would get there, or drown trying! Or,
perhaps, get bitten trying...on one of the few patches of dry land
I unknowingly stepped directly over a juvenile fer-de-lance (Bothrops
atrox - a venemous pit-viper) that was coiled, but nearly invisible,
in the center of the path. While it probably wouldn't have been
able to bite through my rubber boots, stepping on it couldn't possibly
have been good for the state of my heart and mental well being!
The only possible explanation for our determination was basic Guy
Rule #2 - never turn back! Guy Rule #1 (never admit you've made
a mistake) may have also played a wee role...
Eventually we did make it to Lunes
Cocha, but couldn't really get a good look at the lake as the land
was flooded well back into the forest surrounding the lake. No hoatzins
were to be found, and since Lunes Cocha is noted for hosting a population
of large black caimans, no-one volunteered to wade neck deep out
to where unobstructed views might be obtained. The caiman skull
below came from the same area. The trip back was punctuated by quite
a few palm thorns in knees, legs, and boots, and by not a few uncensored
exclamations that might not make it onto daytime TV. It
wasn't until 2 PM that we staggered back into camp, exhausted, filthy,
water-wrinkled, and picking thorns out of our skins. The cook had
thoughtfully kept our food warm in the kitchen, and we would have
put starving wild pigs to shame. Everyone agreed - it was the best
hike of the trip!
Great company, lots of laughs, lots
of herps, lots of birds, lots of things to do, lots of rainforest,
lots of jungle sounds, and not a single complete rendition of I'm
dreaming of a white Christmas. What more could you possibly ask
for (other than the ever-elusive emerald tree boa)? Many thanks
to everyone who made it a great trip, and we hope to see you again
next December (if not earlier!).
NOTE: To download listings of the
herps observed on the trip as well as the master herp list for the
Project Amazonas field sites, please visit the Document
Center. Also available are the cumulative results for the Rio
Orosa Christmas Bird Counts, and an annotated list of the bird species
that have been recorded in the region.
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