Hello again,
I have just returned from an amazing holiday in Costa Rica with my bonus dad Joel. I fell in love with Costa Rica, its people and the pura vida lifestyle during my 2006 field trip there and returned telling anyone and everyone that I would be moving there within a few years. Obviously, that hasn't happened. When my marriage ended I took on a job in Seattle and stayed there for five years until the tragic loss of my beloved mother. I can tell you that this past two week's stay in Costa Rica has rekindled my desire to retire there, but I am now looking at doing it when the time is right, not just spontaneously pick up and leave now.
The key word in the first sentence is "holiday". The Brits I normally travel with on field trips are understandably looking to travel on a budget. We are spider hunters. Jungle trekkers. We don't require fancy accommodations. That said, I am appalled by some of the quarters they are willing to stay in. This trip to Costa Rica was all about holiday and zero about field trip. Joel and I travel in luxury. We are hedonistic and make no apologies for staying in five or six star resorts and living the dream.
My field trip mates like to say "this is a field trip, not a holiday". Well, I thoroughly enjoyed being able to say this is a holiday, not a field trip. We stayed in fine suites with flower petals on our bedding and jacuzzi tubs surrounded my amazing stonework. We ate fine cuisine and enjoyed local flavor and live music. We were comfortable. The trip was not about spiders. It was about showing Joel the majesty of Costa Rica's natural world. We hiked to the top of Poás Volcano. We trekked the Monteverde Cloud forest. We took day and night hikes in the lowland rainforests of Sarapiquí where we stayed in cabins right along the river. We found zero tarantulas and I couldn't have been happier for it. One tarantula and the holiday would have been tainted as part field trip. I wanted to enjoy the fauna of Costa Rica, but without any considerable effort. Those of you who have (or will) check in on my Instagram account (http://www.instagram.com/exoticfauna/) will see many of the spectacular creatures we saw. There are over 160 images from our trip that also show our beautiful hotels and the wonderful food we ate.
For reptiles I saw no snakes, but instead saw caimans and amazing lizards like the emerald basilisk, brown basilisk, spiny-tailed iguana, yellow-headed gecko, myriad house geckos and anoles. For amphibians I got great photos of the "blue jeans" or strawberry dart frog, the green and black dart frog and a few other frogs and toads. I saw many fascinating insects like dobsonflies, blue morpho butterflies, extraordinary katydids, moths and more. The birds were spectacular. Costa Rica is home to 52 species of hummingbird and 30 live in the Monteverde Cloud Forest. I captured amazing images of some. One avian highlight was the aracari (pronounced ahr-uh-SAHR-ee), which I was able to capture with my camera on two occasions, but saw countless others speeding through the rainforest. I even was fortunate enough to lay eyes for the first time on a male Resplendent Quetzal in Monteverde. However, before I could photograph he was gone in a colorful flash of blue and red. Another incredible sighting was scarlet macaws. Each time they were soaring above the trees and eluded my camera. Once again I struck out on seeing a sloth. But I did enjoy other mammals like a nine-banded armadillo on a night hike and some roadside coatis. There is a video of me following a male coati (pronounced kwah-TEE) down the path in the Monteverde Cloud Forest on my Instagram as well. I got a nice image of a two-lined bat, and saw and shot images of other mammals. The primates were a special treat. Near Cañas we encountered a large troop of mantled howler monkeys. As I began photographing them I noticed that one was a white-faced capuchin. It was obvious that the howlers had adopted the capuchin and made it part of the family. During our last breakfast in CR just before heading to the airport a group of capuchins descended from the trees and invaded our resort's open air breakfast area. We learned that they weren't after fruit (the squirrel monkeys go for that), but rather the sweetener packets on our tables. The staff quickly rounded up all of the sugar and then tossed one cheeky monkey a mango that he then focused his attention on.
A trip to Costa Rica without one tarantula or one snake. If it had been a field trip this would be a major disappointment. But, as it was a posh holiday, what we were able to see was nothing short of incredible. My 73-year old bonus dad, who has a bad hip, was a trooper doing the hikes that we did enjoy. But the trip was about chilling and I spent more time in the pool or on the beach than I ever have on any vacation. It was paradise. Joel also caught his first sailfish and I was overjoyed for that.
Did I look at all for tarantulas? Yes. I returned to a roadside in Cañas where we had found many A. seemanni in 2006. Nine years later most of the embankment was eroded and the vegetation had been allowed to overtake the roadside. I found one burrow and went back at nightfall, but had no luck. Three times I visited an area where we had found many M. mesomelas in 2006. The area was under construction and the road bank had been stripped. The soda (little shop/restaurant) that was next to our "honey hole" had been demolished. I also stood right where Paul Carpenter had found our first Sphaerobothria hoffmanni. I searched that embankment and found nothing. I gave it a cursory effort before returning to holiday mode and enjoying a fine Costa Rican coffee on a sun porch while watching darting hummingbirds and various tanagers.
Pura vida, MJ
Showing posts with label La Quinta Sarapiqui. Show all posts
Showing posts with label La Quinta Sarapiqui. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
Thursday, July 2, 2015
#29 - TALES FROM THE FIELD #1
Some of you have attended my lectures on my travels in pursuit of tarantulas. I never collect. I find, observe and photograph. And I'm known to scare up a few snakes along the way. You may have also seen my videos, either on my YouTube Channel, many of which are short clips of snake wrangling or tarantula spiders. I hope to add some from my recent Sri Lanka expedition soon. Others of you may have purchased my one hour documentary on our team's 2006 field trip to Costa Rica from Andrew Smith's Love Tarantulas. It's only five bucks. Give it a go.
Our field trips consist of four man teams with a roster of five. Each year one is not involved. Andrew Smith is typically the de facto leader and my teammates also include Paul Carpenter, Guy Tansley and Mark Carpenter. These trips typically last three to four weeks and as I am the sole American they take on an air of classic British wit with deadpan delivery of sarcasm and self-deprecation. They love to "take the piss" out of each other and their big American companion is an easy target.
Four blokes spending three weeks or more together is bound to create tensions that are eased by humor (or do you say humour?) and relentless sarcasm. Trekking jungles is hard and sweaty work and we are very serious about our tarantula hunting. But during down time over a few beers, or whenever you get the chance to poke fun at a mate, sharp-tongued wit is unleashed with a fury. In short, we have a blast.
But certain stories always stick out in my mind. Some may be "you had to be there" to be found amusing, but I thought I share some memories of our experiences outside of fieldwork.
The first tale is from my first trip with the team. It was 2006 and Costa Rica. I cannot tell you how excited I was to be going on a tarantula adventure with Andrew Smith. When his Tarantula Classification Guide was released many years earlier I paged through it incessantly and wondered who this Andrew M. Smith was. We would meet in person for the first time at the ATS conference in 2003 in Carlsbad, New Mexico. He was the keynote lecturer and delivered one of his many fascinating lectures on Poecilotheria. He was with his American mate, the late Michael Sullivan, and I bought a copy of his Tarantulas of USA & Mexico out of the backseat of Michael's dusty 4x4. We would meet again soon thereafter when he once again spoke for ATS, this time in Phoenix. We had become fast friends who have enjoyed many a whiskey and cigar together. He asked me to join him in Costa Rica and I jumped out of my skin. I was going to travel with a legend and I couldn't have been more eager and excited. Of course, we are now dear mates who have spent many hours together around the world and at his home in southeast London. But then I was a bit starstruck.
Jump ahead to my arrival in Costa Rica. Through a booking error I arrived a day after the team so they had already had a day to sort our rental car and some provisions. When I arrived at the airport in San Jose I met Paul and his brother Mark for the first time and the four of us piled into the little hired car. I deferred to my new English mates and climbed in the back despite being by far the tallest and heaviest. I kept mostly silent as I was the new guy and wasn't going to force my strong and obnoxious American personality on then from the start. They know me differently now ;)
Costa Rica drives American style so right hand driving was a bit foreign for Paul and Andy tried to use his multitude of maps to navigate our way out of the capitol and to the northeast where we wanted to begin. We had not chosen a base camp and we made every decision on the fly throughout the field trip. But Andrew had maps, notebooks, journals and his omnipresent pipe and scarf and we rolled up and down winding roads trying to make progress away the urban center of Costa Rica. Mark and I were wedged in the backseat with one or two of my bags between us. My legs were bent however I could get them and my knees seemed to be in my chin. I felt a pain in my right foot and wondered what was digging into me, but I could barely move my long legs. I'm 6' 2" and on this trip I probably was about 240-250#. What they would call seventeen and a half stone. The ball of my right foot became more and more cramped and pained. The floorboards of our silver Daihatsu or whatever it was were definitely attacking my foot. I tried to shift my body over so I could reach down and explore. I felt a bar of sorts and grabbed onto an aluminum handle and pulled up an ice axe. Here I was sweating my cornfed American arse off in the claustrophobic rear seat of some Costa Rican rental, and for some bloody reason we had an ice axe in the car. We were thousands of miles from the flippin' Andes!
Andrew then regaled me with a tale of Martin Filmer, from whom he had learned the "ice axe" technique for digging out embankment burrows for tarantulas. Andrew had come to the balmy tropics with something made for vertical ascents of frozen waterfalls, only he had cut part of the handle's length off to make it more compact and easy to swing repeatedly to entrench soil. A sawed off ice axe, if you will. Suitably educated, I placed it where it wouldn't assail me and began wondering about these three pasty Britons. My thought was interrupted by the ringing of a phone. After a confused delay I realized that it was my cell phone vibrating in my pocket. It seemed I had joined a local network and was about to receive an expensive phone call. It was my friend Glenn who was watching my dog and parrot and keeping an eye on my shoppe. I had another friend named Keith who would work for me from time to time and he was caring for my reptiles, amphibians and tarantulas. Glenn was just calling to check in, but now that I knew I had cell reception I started a conversation about where we were going to stay not only that night, but make our first base camp. We were headed in the direction of La Selva Biological Station and I began riffling through my Lonely Planet guide looking for accommodation. I was the only teammate who spoke any Spanish and I did my best using my cell phone to see if anything nearby could provide lodging for three Brits, one American and a sawed-off ice axe. As luck would have it, I found La Quinta Sarapiqui, an excellent eco-lodge and a place that will again be my first base when I return to Costa Rica with my stepfather in early December. We would find this a glorious place to stay and it had a library of field guides and identification posters hanging all around the common area. The breakfast buffet was delicious and I tried to eat my weight in the most amazing pineapple I've ever enjoyed. The grounds were teeming with wildlife. The staff put out fruits at feeding stations and attracted a dazzling menagerie of colorful birds. Emerald basilisks prowled the stream edge and brush surrounding the lodging. I chased many up a tree or under the porch of a cabin. Dart frogs, both green and black Dendrobates auratus and "blue jeans" D. pumilio could be found on the grounds and the wooden walkways over the adjacent ponds revealed caiman. They even had a makeshift butterfly flight. Geckos darted about catching nocturnal flying insects while we played card games, dominos and had our evening cocktails. By sheer luck I had found us nice clean rooms with hot showers, good food and drink and creatures galore. Eventually feeling came back to my right foot.
We worked out of four base camps across the country during our three week stay. From each would we drive to a new target location. One day we saw a green iguana run across the two lane road and then soon saw that it was being chased by a domestic/feral cat. I had whoever was driving slam on the brakes and ran into the road after the iguana. Oncoming traffic appeared in the corner of my eye as I scooped up the wriggling three footer. Once the cars passed we posed for a few photos with the lizard before scooting it in a different direction than the cat had ran off. Later we were working a road with Aphonopelma seemanni burrows and Paul went behind a tree to urinate. He screamed, "Michael! Snake!". After making sure that Paul hadn't begun to pee, I ran behind the tree and pulled up the five foot Central American lyresnake. It had a few ticks that I gently removed, and despite the fact that it was beginning to go into a shed it was remarkably placid. After I had my photo taken with my new friend I took photos of both Paul and Andrew holding it. It wasn't until they were done that I admitted to them that it was a rear-fanged venomous snake and a very large one at that. They were not amused by the timing of my confession at all.
More Tales to come ...
MJ
Our field trips consist of four man teams with a roster of five. Each year one is not involved. Andrew Smith is typically the de facto leader and my teammates also include Paul Carpenter, Guy Tansley and Mark Carpenter. These trips typically last three to four weeks and as I am the sole American they take on an air of classic British wit with deadpan delivery of sarcasm and self-deprecation. They love to "take the piss" out of each other and their big American companion is an easy target.
Four blokes spending three weeks or more together is bound to create tensions that are eased by humor (or do you say humour?) and relentless sarcasm. Trekking jungles is hard and sweaty work and we are very serious about our tarantula hunting. But during down time over a few beers, or whenever you get the chance to poke fun at a mate, sharp-tongued wit is unleashed with a fury. In short, we have a blast.
But certain stories always stick out in my mind. Some may be "you had to be there" to be found amusing, but I thought I share some memories of our experiences outside of fieldwork.
The first tale is from my first trip with the team. It was 2006 and Costa Rica. I cannot tell you how excited I was to be going on a tarantula adventure with Andrew Smith. When his Tarantula Classification Guide was released many years earlier I paged through it incessantly and wondered who this Andrew M. Smith was. We would meet in person for the first time at the ATS conference in 2003 in Carlsbad, New Mexico. He was the keynote lecturer and delivered one of his many fascinating lectures on Poecilotheria. He was with his American mate, the late Michael Sullivan, and I bought a copy of his Tarantulas of USA & Mexico out of the backseat of Michael's dusty 4x4. We would meet again soon thereafter when he once again spoke for ATS, this time in Phoenix. We had become fast friends who have enjoyed many a whiskey and cigar together. He asked me to join him in Costa Rica and I jumped out of my skin. I was going to travel with a legend and I couldn't have been more eager and excited. Of course, we are now dear mates who have spent many hours together around the world and at his home in southeast London. But then I was a bit starstruck.
Jump ahead to my arrival in Costa Rica. Through a booking error I arrived a day after the team so they had already had a day to sort our rental car and some provisions. When I arrived at the airport in San Jose I met Paul and his brother Mark for the first time and the four of us piled into the little hired car. I deferred to my new English mates and climbed in the back despite being by far the tallest and heaviest. I kept mostly silent as I was the new guy and wasn't going to force my strong and obnoxious American personality on then from the start. They know me differently now ;)
Costa Rica drives American style so right hand driving was a bit foreign for Paul and Andy tried to use his multitude of maps to navigate our way out of the capitol and to the northeast where we wanted to begin. We had not chosen a base camp and we made every decision on the fly throughout the field trip. But Andrew had maps, notebooks, journals and his omnipresent pipe and scarf and we rolled up and down winding roads trying to make progress away the urban center of Costa Rica. Mark and I were wedged in the backseat with one or two of my bags between us. My legs were bent however I could get them and my knees seemed to be in my chin. I felt a pain in my right foot and wondered what was digging into me, but I could barely move my long legs. I'm 6' 2" and on this trip I probably was about 240-250#. What they would call seventeen and a half stone. The ball of my right foot became more and more cramped and pained. The floorboards of our silver Daihatsu or whatever it was were definitely attacking my foot. I tried to shift my body over so I could reach down and explore. I felt a bar of sorts and grabbed onto an aluminum handle and pulled up an ice axe. Here I was sweating my cornfed American arse off in the claustrophobic rear seat of some Costa Rican rental, and for some bloody reason we had an ice axe in the car. We were thousands of miles from the flippin' Andes!
Andrew then regaled me with a tale of Martin Filmer, from whom he had learned the "ice axe" technique for digging out embankment burrows for tarantulas. Andrew had come to the balmy tropics with something made for vertical ascents of frozen waterfalls, only he had cut part of the handle's length off to make it more compact and easy to swing repeatedly to entrench soil. A sawed off ice axe, if you will. Suitably educated, I placed it where it wouldn't assail me and began wondering about these three pasty Britons. My thought was interrupted by the ringing of a phone. After a confused delay I realized that it was my cell phone vibrating in my pocket. It seemed I had joined a local network and was about to receive an expensive phone call. It was my friend Glenn who was watching my dog and parrot and keeping an eye on my shoppe. I had another friend named Keith who would work for me from time to time and he was caring for my reptiles, amphibians and tarantulas. Glenn was just calling to check in, but now that I knew I had cell reception I started a conversation about where we were going to stay not only that night, but make our first base camp. We were headed in the direction of La Selva Biological Station and I began riffling through my Lonely Planet guide looking for accommodation. I was the only teammate who spoke any Spanish and I did my best using my cell phone to see if anything nearby could provide lodging for three Brits, one American and a sawed-off ice axe. As luck would have it, I found La Quinta Sarapiqui, an excellent eco-lodge and a place that will again be my first base when I return to Costa Rica with my stepfather in early December. We would find this a glorious place to stay and it had a library of field guides and identification posters hanging all around the common area. The breakfast buffet was delicious and I tried to eat my weight in the most amazing pineapple I've ever enjoyed. The grounds were teeming with wildlife. The staff put out fruits at feeding stations and attracted a dazzling menagerie of colorful birds. Emerald basilisks prowled the stream edge and brush surrounding the lodging. I chased many up a tree or under the porch of a cabin. Dart frogs, both green and black Dendrobates auratus and "blue jeans" D. pumilio could be found on the grounds and the wooden walkways over the adjacent ponds revealed caiman. They even had a makeshift butterfly flight. Geckos darted about catching nocturnal flying insects while we played card games, dominos and had our evening cocktails. By sheer luck I had found us nice clean rooms with hot showers, good food and drink and creatures galore. Eventually feeling came back to my right foot.
We worked out of four base camps across the country during our three week stay. From each would we drive to a new target location. One day we saw a green iguana run across the two lane road and then soon saw that it was being chased by a domestic/feral cat. I had whoever was driving slam on the brakes and ran into the road after the iguana. Oncoming traffic appeared in the corner of my eye as I scooped up the wriggling three footer. Once the cars passed we posed for a few photos with the lizard before scooting it in a different direction than the cat had ran off. Later we were working a road with Aphonopelma seemanni burrows and Paul went behind a tree to urinate. He screamed, "Michael! Snake!". After making sure that Paul hadn't begun to pee, I ran behind the tree and pulled up the five foot Central American lyresnake. It had a few ticks that I gently removed, and despite the fact that it was beginning to go into a shed it was remarkably placid. After I had my photo taken with my new friend I took photos of both Paul and Andrew holding it. It wasn't until they were done that I admitted to them that it was a rear-fanged venomous snake and a very large one at that. They were not amused by the timing of my confession at all.
More Tales to come ...
MJ
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