Water, water everywhere and more than enough to drink. That is not a situation common in all parts of the world, but today we embraced the cycle of water. We started early this morning navigating along the edge of the Rio Ucayale in search of yellow-blue macaws. Success was found in the form of a preening pair in the treetops, doing a thorough job of getting their plumage in order. A competition for our attentions soon ensued as a white-throated toucan perched prominently in a nearly tree. The morning sun was having a hard time showing over a generous cloudbank to the east.
Later we crunched our way through the dry leaf litter of varzea, a portion of forest that is dry now, but will be inundated with floodwaters in a few more months. Lines from last year’s high water marked the trees several feet above our heads, add to that the 20 feet or so for the steps cut in the mud to get here and you have at least a 35-foot water level difference between dry and wet season extremes. Above our heads we also found a large troop of squirrel monkeys. They leaped with such exuberance so close that we were soon in the shower of leaves they dislodged from the trees; there was another small shower of moisture as they passed overhead.
In the late afternoon we zipped over to an expansive riverside sandbar. As the river meanders, the outside edge is calved away in large chunks of mud, clay, and sediment, the inside corners accrete new materials. This sandbar is part of the accumulation in the rearrangement of riverside real estate. We were not the first to walk here as in the mud we found the massive spindly footprints of wood storks and the pudgy webbed prints of capybara.
Our final outing of the day was slightly cooler than usual, as there were clouds building in the west, blocking the intense late afternoon sun. Up the Rio Dorado we found avian treasures such as green kingfisher and sunbittern. Some heard the low roar of howler monkeys and undulated tinamou’s called for the closing of the day. Darkness fell and we started our search for spectacled caiman. Many animals were found, some partly submerged and others out on the shore. Their red eye shine gave away their position to our skiff lights. Other lights flickered faintly in the forest, fireflies were blinking amorous messages to each other, and then a larger flash in the sky lit up everyone and everything in silhouette. A storm was on its way and we were still a ways from our mother ship. Ponchos were handed out to all and soon raindrops fell large and warm. The rain then stopped falling and started dumping on us all by the bucketful. Upon our return to the ship a comment was made that this was better than anything Seattle, Washington could come up with.
Upon arrival we were soaked, but thrilled with our adventure and complete immersion into the water cycle of the tropical rain forest in the Amazon River Basin.
