Day 16 - Calm Waters

 The morning started off with a torrential downpour. I mean absolutely hurled it down. I thought I had seen rain... but I haven't until now. (to be fair I may be saying that again).

I sat, under the covered walkway at my hotel, reading my book and watching the rain come down. There was no rush to do anything today, I had planned to go out by kayak again, but now or later, didn't make much difference. A mañana kinda way of life today.

Eventually the rain petered out and it was warm and so I ambled out for breakfast first.

Gallo pinto... again. I must look up the recipe for home. Sooo good. I also saw some fishermen unloading their catch and weighing it next to where I was sitting. I was fascinated. He was telling us that he charged maybe 15$ for one of the largest fish, though he weighed a small box full and presumably charged by the weight. He had a large cooler box filled with the fish and declared it the freshest I would find... of that I had no doubt. 

I then sauntered back to the kayak place, got all my stuff squared away and then off I went. I was going to go up the main channel a bit to see if I could see any crocodiles but the river was high and any sandbanks that the crocs had been resting on had disappeared. The problem withthe mai  channel was that a lot of boats ply their trade on it, ferrying people and goods all around the Tortuguero area. This meant that I was constantly bombarded with wake which although not a major problem, was a tad annoying. And given that I wasn't finding crocs today, I turned round and went back to the relative calm of the water trails.

I headed up the river, paddling slowly as close to the bank of vegetation as possible, not sure exactly what I was looking for, but knowing that if it moved, I would see it, and if it didn't, I may do! 

Sure enough, as I glided along silently, there was a crash in the bushes... something large had taken fright. I had a couple of these crashes, all without seeing the culprit and then I glided slowly past a fallen tree and caught a glimpse. I slowed right down, backpaddled to keep station. There on the tree, aware he/she had been seen, was a green iguana. Seeing this one, I knew immediately that I had been mistakem in my identification the other day. The green lizards I had seen then, were not iguanas, as my app had told me, but green basilisk lizards. These were unmistakeably iguanas! 

So excited. This one wasn't huge and I'm guessing was a female (I could be wrong.. easily). And so obviously intelligent. She was watching me, watching her, and I knew that one false move would have her scurrying in the opposite direction. I managed to take my pictures without startling her into flight and then thanked her for being so good, and kept on paddling. 

I picked what I thought was the alternative channel to where I went the other day. As I went along, I also tried to remember to glance up at the canopy to see if any life was stirring up there. So many levels to keep an eye on! I heard the crashing, before I saw them... spider monkeys high up in the tree tops. 

I glided along and then once again the rain began to fall. As I had done the other day, I made for an area of the bank that was covered by the forest canopy and and sat there, holding on to a vine to avoid drifting back out into the rain.  I was quite content, watching the rain with the smell of the jungle emmenating from the trees and the banks next to me. It was quiet and peaceful. 

I sat there until the point when the rain was heavier under the canopy than outside it and once again took to the channel, paddling, then gliding, scanning the bank for a telltale of an animal hiding there. 

Sometimes it was as obvious as crashing vegetation, sometimes a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye. Sometimes it would be a leaf, moving in an odd way, not in keeping with surrounding leaves and sometimes, something just looked out of place. And so it was when I found my next iguana. He was very well hidden and I may have just glided past, as he stayed motionless, but something looked different and I back paddled to get a better look. Even close up, it took a second to spot the tail, striped green and black and blending in soo well with the surrounding vegetation. I told him I'd spotted him, that the game was up and a photo was my just reward for finding him. But he didn't listen and stayed resolutely shy, with just his tail sticking out. So I took my picture anyway and thanked him for his time before moving onwards. 

By now the sun was out and it had got hot, with blue sky, which meant other people had decided to take to the river. It wasn't crowded but I no longer had complete solitude. I meandered up the channel, almost having given up on finding anything else (except more bloody herons) and so I turbed round and began the slow trek back. Then out of nowhere a Caiman swam across my path... is that good luck... and I followed his course with my eyes whilst trying to a) simultaneously paddle a little closer and b) photograph him before he hid in the bank of water weeds. I wasn't very successful either, but I know the blur is a Caiman! 

I paddled back, arms starting to ache and body suddenly weary. It was tough going, concentrating all the time on trying to find wildlife, trying to be alert for every sound and movement that might signify a cool sighting! Tiring work. 

I hauled myself out of the kayak and sat for a few minutes on the dock, watching the sun, low in the sky, shine across the water and the boats run back and forth. 

Calm waters.. 

Calm mind... 

Calm soul.