Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Counting things other than parrots

So we didn't just count parrots, we also counted mammals to understand how the population is recovering now that hunting is not allowed in this particular area any more. The lodge is part of a conservation concession granted to private individuals with strict controls over what can be done there. In this case this has meant that local people now respect the fact that the land "belongs" to someone and do not log it or hunt on it.

Another way of counting, is to walk a 5km path/transect very slowly and quietly and record everything you see. If this is done often enough population estimates can then be made. Here's a bit about the first one that I did.

"You set off in the semi darkness to get to the start of the transect in time (6 to 6:30am). We walk along in single file, 2m apart trying to walk as quietly as possible and going slowly 1km/hr. I follow Alan who has the machete to clear the way and to "defend us" if necessary! We walk listening for anything that will indicate mammals - Alan hears something and whistles for our attention. We all freeze mid step to listen and then quietly catch up to see what he's spotted - capuchins feeding or spider monkeys flinging themselves from tree to tree or tamarins sitting in the sun grooming each other. Towards the end we get noisier as tiredness sets in and then eventually we get to the end. We've walked for 4 hours and seen no one, heard no manmade noise of any kind except our own and yet we're only a little way into the forest.

We rest at the Brazil nut concession hut, wash our faces in the stream and eat fresh lemon cut from a tree. As the tiredness leaves our feet we start back down a "quicker" trail and walk fast to get home in an hour or so. All of a sudden Alan stops, he's seen spider monkeys, obligingly they swing in plain view and then with a few death defying leaps they crash away through the treetops. On with the march and then stop and listen to jaw clacking and grunting - we sniff the air - white lipped peccary are close. Then an adult crosses the trail 100m away followed by a baby.. Another adult emerges and ambles towards us, about 10m away he becomes suspicious and sniffs for a while. A bit of eating, a bit more sniffing and then he scents something and with a cry of alarm leaps off the trail. The others don't react and we wait for them to clear the trail before going on. Soon it is obvious that we are walking through the group (they often are in groups of up to 50) as the noise increases on both sides of the trail. Adults grunting and jaw clacking. Babies squealing and making "bleah" noises. Alan becomes concerned that if they panic they could run into us or become aggressive. He gets us to stand next to a log and then bangs a tree hard with the machete. All around us alarm calls go up and there are the sounds of much blundering about, gradually quite returns and we go on.

The end of the trail is in sight, my feet are sore and I'm very hot as it's now 11:30. We step out of the shade of the forest into the sunlit clearing around the lodge, returning heroes full of stories to tell, sightings made and dangers avoided!

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Counting Parrots

So for all of you who asked, how do you count parrots, here is the answer.

Every morning we monitored 3 colpas (local name for a clay lick that is used by parrots, macaws and parakeets to eat clay) in 2 shifts. When the birds were feeding, we counted them every 5 minutes (literally, 1, 2, 3 etc) and if there were big numbers, two people did it and compared numbers. The birds here are very cautious due to hunting and so seeing long periods of feeding was rare, 15 minutes was good. I was lucky enough to see 32 red and green macaws feed one morning, which was amazing. One thing I have learnt is that biologists in the field have a lot of patience, it is a long slow haul to collect data! They may also suffer from ulcers as the sense of anticipation every morning - will the birds arrive, will they feed - is really strong.

Here is my memory of one morning, which is reasonably typical.

"We are up first, the moon has set and the air around us is black. In the torch beam you can see water droplets, humidity is at its highest for the day around 98%. We grab a cup of coffee and leave the lodge in silence, down to the boats. Into the canoe and we paddle out into the current. I sit in front and use the torch to look for eye shine from caiman in the beam. As Alan paddles I pick up reflections, mostly moths but then at last a caiman under some branches. The morning mist hangs low over the trees and the torch beam shows it thickening in front. The trees drift by in vague silohuette as the river flows thickly past. Light begins to appear and objects become clearer. A dog starts to bark and as we round the bend a campfire glows bright on a sandbank. Figures in the dark and a torch beam stabs out across the river to find us. We glide past keeping our distance on the other side of the river.

Around another bend and Alan points the bow at the bank and paddles hard to take us alongside a fallen tree. We ground and step out into ankle deep water, making fast the canoe to the tree. We climb over the flotsam on the beach, put the mosquito net up and get in. There is just enough room for two of us on camp chairs inside. We start taking data at 5:45 but the mist is still thick and we see nothing. Around 6am Alan hears the first parrot and shortly after another species, by 6:15 we have recorded 6 different types an average start to the day. We still cannot see very well but periodically get the telescope focused and see some perched birds . Eventually the mist lifts a little and then the boats start to come past. Perhaps because it is a Saturday but it is busy with several boats coming down river, each time the birds fly away in alarm (a flush) and if they return come back to the tops of the trees. At last some quiet occurs and the birds start to think about moving down to the colpa. Some dusky headed parakeets do a fly by to check it is all safe but it is too late for us today. The lodge boat outboard can be heard coming to pick us up and save us the 45 minute upstream paddle. As the boat arrives the birds flush and we pack up.

The early morning light makes the trees glow and seem especially green. The mist has gone and the sky is a perfect blue. With the light breeze created by the boat movement and the warmth of the morning sun the river is an Eden. The trees fringe it in serenity, the darkness of the forest hiding its treasures - brilliant macaws and parrots, enchanting tamarins, athletic spider monkeys, musician wrens and all of the diversity of this incredible place. At this moment it is a paradise of wonders."

The rainforest experience

Well it was incredible. I think I am only going to realise how incredible as time goes on. It is amazing how quickly you adapt to something as "normal". So being 7 hours upriver by fast boat (fast versus the local boats that is, because our boat had an outboard rather than a home made "peke peke" engine) and in the middle of untouched forest, in temperatures around 30 with 70 to 98% humidity feels normal by about day two!

We stayed at a lovely research station, in a little clearing about 500m from the river. We found out the hard way that rain forest is not all flat. Between the river and the clearing were a set of extremely steep steps, after 2 weeks I was still puffing by the top and in the heat, it meant that even if you were relatively unsweaty when you got off the boat, when you got to the top of the steps you needed a shower again! Around the lodge has been planted local grasses and plants, many of which look like overgrown house plants to us. Someone speculated that it was where house plants come to die! Also papaya trees to encourage in local mammals, like the tayra, a bigger version of a weasel. Rabbits eat the grass and ocelots eat the rabbits and the humans get to see the ocelot (well sometimes, we did not sadly). The lodge is designed to keep you in the shade all day and to maximize every breath of air to keep the conditions as unsweaty as possible. The showers were of course cold, which was actually very refreshing although I always had to take a deep breath before sticking my head under. We were well looked after by the kitchen team, Gladys and Ghisella, who worked miracles to give us different food every meal - some interesting local things, purple maize soup for example.

I could go on and on, so I am going to break it up a bit and post in chunks. I do not think I will be able to put photos on but I should be able to link to some that the others are going to put up.

Friday, June 10, 2005

Babies, flying and heat

I had forgotten just what a long way it was to get here (over 24 hours from my front door to my hotel in Lima) and was forcibly reminded why babies and flying don´t really mix! There was one about four rows in front of me (a baby that is) and it cried for nine hours, or that´s what it felt like!

However, I was collected from Lima airport by the dapper Senor Gonzalez, who had everything under control and delivered me safely to my hotel. Then after a much needed sleep, it was up at 5:30am to go back to the airport to get the flight to Puerto Maldonado. The flight was spectacular with clear views of the Andes, which was great. Then the start of the rainforest, stretching away, it seems like for ever. Lots of cumulus cloud over it, formed by evaporation from the forest, it forms a cycle, evaporates, forms cloud, falls as rain and so on.

Puerto Maldonado is a very poor town and so the culture shock has hit home a bit. I met up with one of the others on the trip a Catalan called Pere and he has it worse I think, as he´s not been to Peru before. He asked if this was the poorest place I´ve ever been and I think for a big town it may be but I have seen similar before. Most of the roads are dirt and the houses are mostly built from wood. The children in their school uniforms are inevitably spotless. As you´d expect it´s hot and humid and I´m therefore sitting in the Internet cafe (which is full of Peruvians and no other tourists) and sweating (I´m sure they´re all mightily unimpressed by la gringa). But I´m sure the parrots are going to be worth it! One more day here and then off to base camp on Sunday.