Just Another Routine Adventure

Who out there has routine, normal vacations? Free of stress and distress, with smooth sightseeing tours, or quiet lounging on a beach chair, reading a novel? Not me.

I've mentioned now and then that my travels all seem to be exciting, and not always in a good way. This Caribbean beach trip is no exception.

May I digress long enough to direct you to a previous blog post: "Paradise Found."   Like I described in that post, here I am again in "paradise," on a semi-tropical island with coconut palms swaying in the breeze, gentle surf lapping against the white sand, clear turquoise water..... and itching like mad from sunburn and a dozen sand flea bites.

But that's not what this post is about. It's about adventures (and mis-adventures) with Pope. The first incident came quickly: Pope left his brand-new jacket in the shared airport van. I did some research to track down the driver. She asked "Was it black, with a white sailboat logo?" Yes. She had found it on the seat at the last stop, where the last four people got out. She asked if it belonged to any of them, and a young woman said, "it's mine!" and took it.

I believe the driver's story. She was a nice, courteous person and an excellent negotiator of narrow, hilly, winding roads hogged by reckless drivers.

The next day, another incident. No doubt deliberately designed to test my patience and move my stress meter in the direction of dis-stress. Or maybe Pope is just oblivious to the concept of vacationing normally, in paradise or anywhere. 

At the local Yacht Club, he and his friend, who we are staying with, launched two Sunfish sailboats. These are small, one-person crafts. I was offered one too and declined, explaining that I am the author of the renowned "Reluctant Sailor" blog. The wind was blowing steadily. I planned to go swimming instead.

Within 45 seconds of launch, Pope's Sunfish had overturned and he was in the water. He is an excellent sailor, a regular cruiser and racer, but it has been a few years since he sailed a small boat sensitive to every whiff. 

I paused on the swimming plan. I thought, "Maybe I'll just watch and see what happens." (Do you see a pattern here--that my most exciting "adventures" involve Pope? If you are skeptical, may I refer you to my blog posts from our sailboat cruising years, especially 2013 and 2014.)

I sat down and watched. Pope's Sunfish overturned a couple more times. This is not abnormal; those boats are powerhorses in strong wind. It takes strength and dexterity to right the boat and climb aboard--which are in short supply when you're an octogenarian with osteoporosis. The third time the boat went over, I saw him struggling to get aboard. I found out later that he got hit in the head with the boom.

To quickly dispense with Pope's part of the story: he was picked up by a passing motorboat; his younger, stronger friend retrieved the Sunfish; and Pope's wounds got patched up. 

Now, my part of the story: Pope's expensive snorkel gear, with $100 prescription lenses, had tumbled out of the boat and sunk. Pope couldn't search for it because he can't see the bottom without his prescription mask. 

From shore, I had seen roughly where the accident occurred, near some rocks about 1/4 mile from the beach. 

The next day, while Pope was in sailing class, I donned my snorkel gear, swam out to the approximate area, and methodically searched the bottom, swimming back and forth for an hour. Of course I took note of the spotted and striped fish along the way. The water was clear and 15-20 feet deep. The bottom was rocky and craggy in some places--hard to spot anything except fish--and flat and grassy in other spots. 

Fortunately, the snorkel gear had sunk in a flat grassy spot! I was thrilled to find the gear, whose blue and black colors stood out against the green grass.

I paused, treading water and thinking; actually wishing that a young athletic type would just happen to come along, perhaps snorkeling for fish, and proudly agree to demonstrate his masculinity by diving for my treasure. No luck. 

Eventually, rather than give up on my treasure, I tried to dive to the bottom myself. Got about halfway down. I was never good at diving.

I carefully determined my location by taking readings on objects in four directions--sailboats on moorings, rocks on shore. Then swam to shore and began part two of my adventure: searching for a diver by making friends on the beach.

The first two people with snorkel gear didn't speak English. A young, macho athletic type was working at the beach hut that rented snorkel gear. He badly wanted to prove his stuff: "I spearfish out there; I can free dive to 25 feet!!" Unfortunately, he had to work until dark.

I chatted up a couple from Vancouver with snorkel gear under their chairs. Bingo! The young man was "happy to try it." And he did. He swam out with me and retrieved the gear. He made the dive look easy--once I found the spot again. On the way back to the beach, we took our time and identified parrot fish, sergeant majors, groupers, and a majestic (but invasive and venomous) lionfish.

(Photo by Dave Bryan, from the NPS website)

Today, Day 4, I'm enjoying a quiet afternoon and a peanut butter and banana sandwich on a deserted, somewhat hidden beach. (Yes there are sand fleas.) Pope is out racing with his class; they took their snorkel gear to make a stop at a reef off St. John. He has his gear! Yay!

I'm storing up my energy. Tonight, I'm having dinner with Pope and his sailboat racing class. 

Who knows what additional adventures they have in store?

A Day (or Two) at the Beach

Now that I've got some time to kick back, in between flights and news from home, I offer you this: photos from the Spanish Virgin Islands. Everyone has heard of snorkeling at St. John, in Virgin Islands National Park. Fewer people know about the lush national forest and wildlife refuge on nearby Puerto Rico (the big island), and even more parks, forests, and reserves on smaller Puerto Rican islands: Culebra, Culebrita, Vieques, and Caja de Muertos. All protected by federal or territorial conservation programs. All a hop, skip, and a jump from San Juan by boat or small plane. Isn't America great?

Flamenco Beach at the edge of Culebra Nature Reserve is rated by some as the "third best beach in the world." I don't disagree (though Thailand gives it a run for its money). Looking for boobs and butts? This is your place; abundant skin on display here. No, I didn't take photos of those abundant attributes.

I am not a beach bum. I get sunburned, sweaty, and bitten by sand fleas. Yet even I was charmed by the turquoise water, large horseshoe of fine white sand that stays cool on a hot day, abundant shade trees, and ability to buy a burrito and ice cream cone, in return for a $2 entrance fee. Pope and I had a long nap in the shade. (Did I mention the sand fleas?)

In Culebra's Cayo Luis Pena Nature Reserve, you can snorkel directly off the shore at Melones or Tamarindo Beach to look for sea turtles. I missed the turtles but found a nurse shark, a ray, and silver, blue, and yellow fish among the reefs. A nearby snorkeler spotted an octopus.

The wildlife refuge on tiny Culebrita island next door offers a smaller version of white-sand Flamenco Beach, complete with lizards and butterflies, enough colorful fish for snorkeling, and views from the top of a hill. And guess what: sand fleas. Accessible only by boat.

Seen enough pretty pictures of sand and sea? (Don't get too excited; the pretty pictures come with itchy sunburn and itchy bites.) Let me show you how we got to those out-of-the-way spots.

This is a 12-passenger Cape Air prop jet. It flies just above the turquoise water and flat roofs of Puerto Rico and the Spanish Virgin Islands. It lands on Culebra with a steep dive onto a runway in a valley.

This is a smaller, 10-passenger Cessna 402 that took us onward to St. Thomas--in another US territory with public beaches and protected parks.

Only three passengers showed up for this flight. On all of these small planes, the passengers and suitcases are carefully distributed by weight. I was excited to fly low above the water again, at the edge of fluffy white clouds.

On St. Thomas, we are staying with a friend who has views of the harbor, while Pope takes a sailboat racing class. 

Me? I'm swimming, snorkeling, playing in the waves, and rescuing Pope from almost certain destruction. 

For details, see my next post, "Just Another Routine Adventure." And remember the title of his book: 

"I Should Have Been More Careful."

The Riches of a Private Preserve

In Costa Rica, there are national parks and reserves, and there are dozens of hotels and eco-lodges that advertise acres of "private preserve," miles of hiking trails, and rainforest or cloud forest flora and fauna.

My friend Ann and I spent three nights at "Valle Escondido Nature Reserve and Farm." Whew. A mouthful. In fact, it was a fairly ordinary hotel with two exceptions: the second-floor restaurant was completely outdoors, with views of the surrounding ridges, and the trails on the hotel's property were representative of the biodiversity for which the country is known. 

As soon as we arrived, we took advantage of the $5 happy hour price for passion fruit margaritas, at the hotel's open-air restaurant. The orange of our drinks reflected the hues of sunset.

By day, the views from the restaurant and from the trails surrounding the hotel are stunning.

In the gardens surrounding the hotel, we encountered coatis...

colorful motmots...

angels' trumpets...

orchids....

and fruiting banana trees.

Deeper in the forest, we discovered trees with protective spikes....

... and leaf-cutter ants, cutting and carrying chopped-up leaves to their nests. There, the leaf pieces become compost to grow fungus that nourishes the Queen, soldiers, and rest of the colony. The march of the anys can be viewed in my video, at: https://m.youtube.com/shorts/aZojVW4VT1I

As always in rainforests, the hotel's private preserve encompasses some beautiful cascades. 

Day turned to night, and we retraced our steps, this time with a guide to help us find the elusive denizens of the dark.

We tiptoed past sleeping birds, with their heads tucked under a wing...

...and an owl butterfly (notice the "eye" markings).

We stumbled over roots and rocks, examining clusters of leaves and shining flashlights in the treetops, looking for monkeys and sloths. 

Once again (as in the Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve), our guide failed to find a big cat such as an ocelot or puma.

Nevertheless, we were satisfied that the hotel's private preserve harbored an abundance of flora and fauna and that we had nicely sampled what the cloud forest had to offer.

Chasm Between Climates: From Black Sand to Misty Cloud

For a small Central American country, Costa Rica has a lot of micro-climates. 

The Osa Peninsula, on the Pacific coast just 20 miles from Panama, boasts pristine black sand beaches and myriad plants and animals of the rainforest. The climate is hot and humid.

Go north along the coast toward Nicaragua, and you find more black sand beaches and rainforest. Still hot and humid. Head inland, however, and you climb. Climb toward the clouds and the rims of ancient volcanoes forming the eastern edge of the Pacific Ring of Fire. The heat and humidity drop away, and the flora and fauna adapt. 

I also adapted--gladly! The cool breezes of the cloud forest suited me much better than the sticky skin, damp towels, and biting sand flies of Osa, where I practiced yoga for a week (see previous blog post). 

National Geographic calls Monteverde "the jewel in the crown" of cloud forest reserves, where astounding numbers of plant and animal species are protected.

With an experienced guide, you can see (and hear) the Resplendent Quetzal, toucans and tanagers, redstarts, wrens, howler monkeys, white-faced capuchins, sloths, coatis, agoutis, tarantulas and wolf spiders, orchids, shrimp flowers, orange and yellow birds of paradise, ferns, mosses, towering avocado trees covered in epiphytes, and strangling ficus vines.

To name a few. 

I saw those and more in only one morning inside the reserve. The photos below are a small sample of the awesome abundance. If you go, I recommend my enthusiastic guide, Dennis Fernandez of Geo Expeditions.

I have but one complaint. Alas. My guide, Dennis, failed to find me a big cat (ocelots and pumas have been seen in the reserve). For that, I will have to return at night!

The Resplendent Quetzal is the most popular -- and elusive -- bird in the cloud forest. I got lucky! The guides communicate with each other constantly, sharing the locations of their sightings.

A separate photo of the quetzal's glorious tail.

Monkey tail fern. 

This tree fern (or fern tree) is about 10 feet across and 50 or 60 feet tall. I was looking down on it from a hanging bridge (see below).

Hanging bridge, my favorite place in the reserve. From up here you can see epiphytes and flowers growing near the tops of trees, where they get more sun. 

The thick overgrowth and intertwining makes it difficult to identify individual plants and trees, especially in the treetops.

Epiphytes are plants that live on trees but don't feed off them, i.e. not parasitic. They include bromeliads, orchids, ferns. Trees in the reserve, including this towering avocado tree, are covered with epiphytes.

Two close-ups of some epiphytes.

There is no shortage of pretty flowers in the cloud forest. What I found more interesting, though, are clusters of "berries" such as these, related to blueberries, and....

....these, on red stems, known as mountain corn.

Anole, a type of lizard. Close-up photo taken through my guide's zoom lens. 

This is an orchid! Growing on a leaf, way up in the treetops. There were more conventional orchids, too.

Slate-throated redstart.

Last but not least, every rainforest and cloud forest has to have a waterfall. And some visitors to enjoy it.