A painfully productive week...

This week proved to be rewarding and debilitating. Kristi was great and provided us with timely transportation to and from the field. We were on the reservoir last week with the hopes to visit a couple of nests in the Macal portion of the reservoir before heading up the Raspaculo Branch all the way to the historic Cushtabani Camp.

Brad, Charles and James getting ready (photo by Kristi Drexler).

We headed out from the Ballerina Rd put-in late morning last Tuesday. We were at the Macal/Raspaculo confluence within a couple of hours.

The crew departing (photo by Kristi Drexler).

At the confluence we sat down for a nice lunch of quesadillas and other camping gourmet items. During our usual voracious consumption a couple of macaw flew in and alighted on a dead stump and began to get obviously upset with our presence. Wow...a new nest. Sweet! But how to gain access to this nest? That's the question...

Stumpy nest discovered during lunch.

James headed up to the spring on the Raspaculo Branch, not far from the confluence, to conduct more sampling of the fish present there. Meanwhile, Brad and I headed up the Macal to check the other nests. As luck would have it the wind was blowing hard so the two lucky shots that made it over were all for naught; the wind took out the slack in the line and kept us from being able to lower the line. After an hour we had to call it off and move on to the next nest.

An attentive mother.

Half an hour later we made it up to the nest we had to abandon the week before due to rain. Brad climbed this one and spotted two eggs and a newly hatched chick. Sweet! From there we high-tailed it back to the confluence and camped out at the spring.

No, James isn't dead, he's sampling fish in shallow water.

In the meantime, James had been able to spend a good amount of time at the spring, identifying several species and getting photos and videoing behavior of several.

Nest protection at the spring.

We moved upriver the next morning hoping to find more nesting activity along the reservoir. We passed an inactive nest site from last year and then approached a new nest area where we had observed pairs inspecting a cavity on two separate occasions. Something was askew. Where was the tree? We pulled up and I immediately notice both shoe and barefoot prints in the muddy bank. Hmmm...it's gone. We walked to the spot and sure enough, the tree had been obviously chopped down. In fact, after it was felled, the perpetrators had to dig to gain access to the nest. I think they were disappointed as the nest had not yielded any chicks yet. But sadly, another nesting location was lost.

Sadness...our first nest chopped down this year.

Further upstream, we approached a historically active xatero camp, both legal and illegal. As we paddled by I spotted a female with her head poking out of the cavity. With a little cowboy work I was able to photo two eggs and quickly descend.

Me playing cowboy. Had to lasso the cavity entrance and pull myself over.

We conducted some fish sampling just upstream, turned east at the Monkeytail/Raspaculo confluence, and began the push towards Cushtabani. Darkness began to descend within a couple of hours and we set up camp on a nice rocky bend in the river.

Myself, James and Brad at our 'kitchen'.

We began the next morning conducting a round of fish sampling adjacent to the campsite.

James and Brad characterizing fish habitat.

We then split up so James could finish up his fish sampling while Brad and I pushed to the next nest location. Within an hour we passed an active xatero camp. Hmmm...what to do? Should we wait for James? I thought about it for a few minutes and decided that the xateros were all out working and there would be no problems (which turned out to be true...thankfully). Around the next bend were four horses, most likely to haul xate back to Guatemala.

Xatero camp.

After the first major confluence we stopped for an hour to observe several pairs, chop our way to a tree with previous cavity inspection, and to have lunch. No nests but a good lunch. We then kayaked upstream to a nest with an egg the previous month. I scaled this nest and was bummed...the ceiling had collapsed and completely filled the cavity; probably burying the egg or chick. An interesting note was that a macaw did visit the tree while I was climbing and there were other cavities on the tree (with nothing at the time). So maybe they will use the tree. The pair might have moved upstream a bit as we observed a pair inspecting a cavity two hundred meters upriver.

Here I am getting ready to ascend.

That day was extremely challenging; we pushed hard, very hard to make it to our farthest up nests near Cushtabani Camp. I have to give Brad some real props here. His feet were in really bad shape but he didn't complain and didn't hold us back. A tough guy. Along the way we had a fantastic look at a large male Tapir slowly ambling up the river for five to ten minute. We then spooked it around the next bend and sent it galloping into the vegetation.

Bird's eye view of the river.

At the camp, Brad and I found our misplaced items from the camp; my leatherman and Brad's sock. The next morning we visited three nests, finishing at noon. One had three chicks, the second had two chicks, and the last one egg.

These were the largest and oldest chicks to date. Ugly ducklings for sure!

Brad checking on three recently hatched chicks.

Parents express their opinion of our efforts.

Here I am climbing a new nest. One egg at the top.

It was noon by the time we were finished and had a LOT of river to cover that day. By late afternoon we were nearing the xatero camp. This had me concerned as they would probably be at the camp. We passed five horses this time and as we made our way through the rapids above the camp I could see a few individuals there. We continued downstream and as we neared I waved and called out 'Buenas tardes'. They waved back and said hola. No prob, we continued on to a campsite well below them. Along the way we discovered a new nest. Too late to check so we'll paddle up the next trip after going down Monkeytail Branch.

Brad's poor feet. We all were suffering.

Our feet were in absolute horrible condition. I was really concerned about it. Walking around the camp in Crocs was an excruciating experience and we still had a long day ahead of us. We ate well, enjoying fried tetra fish, baked potatoes and stir-fry, but I didn't move more than ten feet after sitting down. The rain poured that night while we hunkered down under the tarp eating, drinking, and chatting until 11pm (an absurdly late night for us).

The next morning, I discarded my shoes for Crocs only and as soon as we were on the reservoir I pulled my socks off as well. Found another nest, just downstream of the one that was chopped down. I wonder if it is the same pair? At the confluence, James retrieved a cache of beer; two for each. What a treat! This was lunch as we decided to forgo stopping and made our way to the take out.

Brad, Charles and James loading up the Jeep (photo by Kristi Drexler).

We went past another cache of beer and were stocked for the trip down the dreary reservoir. Twenty minutes after we pulled our boats out, Kristi arrived. YES!!! Bringing cold refreshments for all. We cruised to town for BBQ and a shower. Being the last night for James in country, we desired a night on the town but the thought of walking more than ten feet at a time was too much to bear. We settled for relaxing at the house and enjoying the drive to the airport the following day.

Myself, James and Brad at Boiton's BBQ in Santa Elena (photo by Kristi Drexler).

Nesting is picking up

This past weekend my good friend and colleague from NMSU, James Morel, arrived to spend a couple of weeks collaborating on a fish sampling project in the upper Macal River watershed. Following a late night welcoming him to the country we awoke the next morning to pack and take care of the logistics of the trip.

It was Easter Weekend so most things were closed and the normal crew of rangers that help us out were on holiday. Hmmm, how to get some work done? It dawned on me that my good friend Ernesto Garcia was working up in Mountain Pine Ridge and could help us out with a drop-off/pick-up on the run down the lower Macal below the Guacamallo Bridge. So I lined that up and we headed up to Baldy Sibun where a communication tower is perched on the eastern side of the ridge.

(Right) View from Baldy Sibun on Mountain Pine Ridge. (Left) Ernesto Garcia working his culinary magic.

We wound our way through the pine ridge and arrived at Baldy Sibun around 4pm bearing all the necessities for a good evening. What a view! Perched atop Belize we could see for miles and miles. Ernesto prepared an amazing dinner of stew chicken, beans and tortillas. After darkness descending, we pulled his little 6" TV out into the patio, using my jump cables as an extension cord, and enjoyed the college basketball championship game.

James guiding his kayak down the rapids.

The next morning we loaded up ad headed down to the Guacamallo Bridge and were on the river by 9am. What a fun river run that is. Unfortunately, we still haven't had much macaw activity in this area. Three pairs flew overhead and downstream at the first bend but that was about it. That is probably the extent of the habitat below the bridge.

James and myself doing a seine haul.

After the first bend, we were able to start fish sampling. It was one of the few locations with a run, riffle, pool situation. After that it was a lot of bedrock runs and falls.

Maneuvering down the runs.

By Tuesday afternoon the rangers were back from holiday and in the Chiquibul. We picked them up and headed over the pine ridge to the put-in to run the upper Macal. We arrived just before dark, set up camp by the river, and settled into a fajita dinner before retiring to our tent hammocks.

Wednesday morning greeted us with an infusion of macaw activity in the immediate area; beginning with a couple of pairs and ending with 26 foraging

Pair that I thought was inspecting a cavity...no dice.

At the end of a good day on the river we saw and heard a pair two hundred meters down the river. James and Brad prepped the campsite while I traveled down to check it out. Sure enough, a pair was hanging out and even copulated. Then one of them dropped down and behind the upper trunk. Yes, surely there is a nest. The next morning we excitedly made our way to the tree and I climbed it only to find that no cavity existed. Too bad...

The view for a macaw is a bit more scenic than what we experience...but we get glimpses.

On Thursday, we checked three nests. Only one of them was active having a newly born chick and two unhatched eggs. It was a challenge to get a photo. The rope was a good five feet away from the nest on a lateral branch (see photo below). I have to break a branch it was stuck on and then had to loop another rope over and pull myself close to the nest and then take a photo. After seeing the chick and eggs I quickly descended.

This was a tricky nest requiring a little extra rope work. Well worth it!

Traveling down the Macal, James spotted a a motionless male iguana (below). Brad picked it up for a photo and then I placed it on a large rock to warm up. Guess it got too cold in the water and couldn't move any longer. Wonder if it warmed up before a Hawk Eagle nabbed it for a meal?

Brad handling an ice-cold male iguana, or bamboo chicken as they say in Belize.

As we proceeded down the river on Friday, I glanced over through a gap in the riparian vegetation just in time to see a macaw head sticking out of its cavity. I think that the females definitely do this as a survival behavior; observing things from the cavity. This is how we find many of the nests. They might hear us as well and stick their heads out just out of curiosity as well. Works for me. Climbed the nest to find two eggs.

Always have to vigilant with the search effort. The right direction at the right
time reveals a macaw in a cavity.

We hit the reservoir. It's getting lower each day. Brad had developed a crack in the rear bilge holes at this point and we were glad to be off the rocky, shallow river bottom.

A cold front began brewing and then dumped rain that we hadn't seen in months. You would have believed we were in the rainy season instead of well into the dry season. An interesting note is that this dry season has been delayed and then interrupted periodically by rain. This might have delayed this year's breeding season which probably helped buy a little time for me to get things organized.

Is it the dry season? Brad and James (coming from the desert, he's enjoying the downpour).

The rain stopped after an hour and we were able to enjoy a large social flock of macaws preening and foraging on both sides of the river. Toucans and crested guans were abundant and we even had great looks at a laughing falcon. We then rounded a bend close to a historic nesting location which had been cut down the previous year. The unmistakable sight of red caught my eye. There was a female attending her nest (below). We maneuvered to the area and unloaded our gear. Just after we shot a line over the rains came again! Can't climb in the rain so we packed it up. Just have to visit the nest the next week.

A female checking us out checking her out. The rains kept us from this nest.

As we made our way to the campsite near the Raspaculo/Macal junction we spotted a pair on the south side of the river. Then a crocodile swam across in front of us. Brad was slowly sinking as his kayak continued to take in water. It was also getting late so I told them to head to the campsite and I would continue to observe this pair. About ten minutes later, the pair flew across the river and perched in a small tree. After a minute, one of them flew into a snag and into a cavity located and the top of the trunk. Cool! Another nest.

I then paddled hard to get to the campsite before dark, arriving shortly after James and Brad. After a good night's sleep we headed to the take out and home. All in all, a good trip.

Sometimes you get lucky…

It was time to revisit the Chiquibul Branch. It’s a short run but that worked out because Easter Weekend was coming up and it was a short week for our support team; the FCD rangers. The main objective was to check the nest site where a pair of macaws was observed inspecting a potential cavity.

We arrived at the ranger base around midday this past Monday and began getting our gear in order, mainly our food. The lone ranger, Larry, arrived with two guests from Southern Illinois. The plan was to get dropped off down at the Chiquibul Branch when the combined ranger/BDF patrol were getting extracted from a recent patrol. However, as often happens in the Chiquibul, the plan needed to be modified. The patrol was back early and there were an unspecified number of people who had unspecified injuries. So Larry and I went to Las Cuevas to pick up the Land Rover and I assisted with the extraction and put off our own insertion into the jungle for a day. The patrol was greatly relieved to see us. I can understand this part. No one likes waiting in the jungle after hard work.

We got them out and went back to the ranger base where Curt and Cathy were waiting along with Brad. It was Curt’s birthday, thus the trip down to Belize, so he was preparing a large dinner of chicken, salad, mac ‘n cheese, and beans. This was definitely a hit for the recently returning rangers but we all ate with gusto. We relaxed for the evening with rum libations and Curt pulled out his guitar and sang about the rivers around his part of the world…a very cool evening.

We loaded up early on Tuesday morning and were on the road by 6:45am. Arriving at 8:30, we got on the river and began the run down the Chiquibul Branch. It went smoothly…mostly. I got caught up on one rock that tried to flip me. Actually, I was out of the boat but managed to manhandle the kayak so it turned on its side but didn’t quite flip over. After that we continued on past the cave and through Natural Arch. That never gets old.

Lunchtime on the Chiquibul. Typical goofiness...

We were already planning a return trip into the cave; with headlamps this time. Natural Arch is just a wonder. Jungle on the sides and jungle growing thickly on top with vines hanging almost a hundred feet down. Then you enter into the quite of the arch with stalactites scattered across the ceiling and limestone overhangs along the water’s edge. Just amazing…

We paddled down to the nest area…no activity. Then we heard macaws! Two pairs. One pair flew silently to the south and out of sight, gone. The second pair squawked and landed back in the vicinity of the nest, perched and squawked some more. Then they flew to the right on perched again before taking off and heading downstream. Hmmm, maybe they’re using that cavity, but from their behavior they still seemed to be in the nest initiation phase. Time to check the tree with the cavity. I went to grab my machete…it was gone! Oh no. Oh no. That’s the most important tool you can have out there. Must have fallen out when I nearly flipped. Man, that’s the one my dad gave me and we’d had that for years. It was finally getting some serious use. Shoot! Oh well, maybe I’ll get lucky and find it on the way back.

We linked up with tapir trails and took those as far as possible with Brad clearing a little here and there but trying to keep it to a minimum. It was tough to really gauge where we were in the tall thick grass and vine thickets. But we made our way to the tree and shot a line over it. I scaled this one. I scaled the tree rather quickly and checked all of the knobs and holes…nothing. The cavity that the macaws were checking out last time was beginning to open up but still needed more time to rot out. Man! Bummer! So I tried to look around to see if I could spot where that first pair went to. Alas, this location was widely encircled by a wall of thickly vine-covered trees obstructing the view. No machete, no nest. Damn!

Here I am climbing what we thought was a nest tree...no such luck!

Oh well. I went back to the area near the river to review the area and I was beginning to doubt that we were at the correct tree. The angles get so weird. I decided that we’d head downstream for now and reconnoiter the area further the next day on the way back upstream. So we loaded our stuff up and paddled downriver. About 200m downstream we passed a large Ceiba stump on the north side of the river. It appeared to be dead with only to lateral branches hanging on. Going another 100ft or so, something made me hesitate. ‘I’m going back to check out that stump,’ I informed Brad. So we turned around and paddled back up. I noticed something really red up on the stump as I peered through the riparian vegetation. ‘There’s a macaw!,' proclaimed Brad. We watched it for a few minutes while it watched us from its perch; the top of the stump. It then took off away from the river but quickly returned and continued to watch us; a sentry atop its tower. It then disappeared down into the stump. Alright!!! Score!!!

An ACTUAL nest site not 200m downstream of the place we struck out.

I decided that as it was getting late, we’d leave it alone. We might not have time to cut a trail to the nest, scale it and do our work and then have time to find a camp spot before dark. So we moved downstream, passing through the limestone slot canyon to the Resumadero area and turned around to the camp at the water’s edge.

Getting caught up on field notes in the evening (photo by Brad Westrich).

We set up, spread the tarp and got a campfire going. Fajitas…mmmm. That night I didn’t sleep well at all. Woke up completely parched and with a massive headache. I realized that I drank maybe 2 cups of water the previous day. Stupid. I took a couple of Alieve and downed a liter of water and went back to bed. Fitful sleep and was up at dawn. Still had a headache and let’s just say that the water didn’t stay with me either. Barely could eat any breakfast and I really felt like sleeping another hour but there was work to do, so we packed up and headed upstream.

We reached the nest around 9am and easily made our way to the nest via a winding series of tapir trails. Turned out that the Ceiba still had a single live strip of bark on the backside leading up to a small leafed out branch. There was our macaw…staring down. Okay, let’s scare this macaw off the nest and see what’s happening. Brad and then I took turns slapping the tree. And while you could tell it was getting agitated it would not budge. Fifteen minutes and nothing! I guess that means it’s really using this site. I wasn’t about to shoot a line over the tree with the macaw just hanging out up there for fear of injuring it in the process. From previous experience, that stubbornness suggests incubation. So, hopefully when we return next time there will be a couple of recently hatched chicks in the nest.

That was exciting! A confirmed active nest. Morale was up and we moved back over to the first suspected nest area just upstream. We reentered the area and stumbled into a series of clearly well used xatero trails and a small and not recently used lean-to frame. We used the trail system to gain better vantage points from which to scan the trees for other potential trees…nothing. Okay, this area looks pretty dry. There was one forked stump with potential.

Brad standing next to a xatero lean-to.

We left the area and began our exit to Bordel Camp. Passing back through Natural Arch and arriving at the cave it was time to have an hour of fun. We grabbed headlamps, cameras and a couple of candles and climbed up into the cave. We walked around and then headed back to the inner cavern. Using the candles was better than the headlamps; providing light all over and brighter light. Guess my headlamp is less than one candle power! It also lends an ambience to the cave. The formations were small but pretty cool. One nice column and one nearing completion… in a few hundred years. But definitely some active formations. What seemed like the beginning of a potential cavern on the previous visit was really not there. With the lighting we had, it was apparent that the cave did not really progress much farther. So we took a few more photos and headed back to the mouth of the cave.

Beauty of the cave...and some cave dwellers.

From there was stripped to the waist and jump down to the water; Brad doing a crazy back-slapping flip and I cannon-balled it. The water felt great!

Brad doing a flip from the cave.

We scrambled onto the kayaks and headed up. Going through series after series of rapids we finally reached the one I recognized. That’s where I almost flipped over. I slowly walked up the boulders, looking down intensely. A small white splotch caught my attention. It elongated for a moment and then shortened. I reached my hand down and felt in between the cobble. There it was! My machete! Wedged down in the rocks. Man I’m glad I wrapped the handle in white, waterproof medical tape only a few weeks before. Lucky! Things were really going well now.

We progressed past the Smokey Branch confluence when an Ornate Hawk-Eagle flew in and perched above us. That was a first for Brad but it never gets old. Those are magnificent birds with a brown head leading to a black crest. Just beautiful. It flew across the river and perched again, upsetting the brown jays and scaring a pair of mealy parrots.

Ornate Hawk-Eagle above the Smokey Branch confluence.

We camped out at Bordel and I was out early…just exhausted from the day and a lack of sleep on the previous night. Larry and Jaime (FCD rangers) arrived at 8:30am and in a couple of hours we were back at the base. There was still plenty of time in the day so I decided to do a run down the lower Macal for a few kilometers to check out some potential areas. There was activity seen just below the Guacamallo Bridge last year. We put in and kayaked down to the first bend, slowing down and really scanning the quamwoods on the south bank. Nothing going on there but then I heard macaws on the opposing side. There was a pair sitting on a Quamwood tree just preening each other. We spread out to get a better look. After ten minutes of squawking and preening they flew downstream and out of sight.

We continued downstream and ran several nice rapids; one that knocked Brad out of his kayak and pinned him for a few seconds but he righted the boat and made it out. I was stuck on the same rapid on a rock. You can just feel the force of the water. When I unwedged my kayak, the force was frightening; like riding a bull, it lifted my kayak and shot me through the rest of the run. But it was really some exciting stuff. I’ll have to mount my camera on the front of the kayak the next time we go through.

All in all, it was a good trip. Next week, we hit the Macal.

That...Monkeytail: 22-24 Mar

We FINALLY made it to the upper Monkeytail Branch. And it quite lived up to its reputation. We drove down to Las Cuevas Research Station this past Monday morning. It was empty. No one is using the research station. Quite a bummer. It used to be humming with grad students. The only people there were a contingent of Belize Defense Force (BDF) who maintain a permanent presence there.

We spoke with the commander about the condition of the trail to the river and then planned on parking near the trailhead before beginning the long drag to Monkeytail Branch. We were happy to find the trail quite navigable for 2-3km before ending at a large tree fall. Leading up to that we cut our way through a few smaller blocks. The most devastating thing occurred when I approached a tree that was bent over, with thick vines on the other side of the track. I thought that it was high enough to clear...but I was mistaken. The halting crunch was not good. Looking up through the moon roof of the Jeep to see the kayaks gone was not good. And getting out to see the rear rack ripped off the Jeep was definitely not good!

We unstrapped the kayaks and moved them forward. Then I inspected the damage. The Jeep had some damage but not too bad...and the rack was fine. I just pulled out my toolbox and reinstalled the rack about 6-8 inches forward of where it previously sat. We strapped down the kayaks and pushed on.

At the major tree fall we unloaded and I headed back to Las Cuevas, parked the Jeep and hiked back. From there we began the 2km overland kayak drag. This is not quite as fun as it sounds but is a great workout. All was going well until the track began to go up hill. Then the track disappeared into a thicket of dense vines and herbaceous vegetation. I pulled out my machete and sliced and beat through this while dragging my kayak and gear. The track would reappear and then disappear. Over and over. Was I going the right direction? Onward I pushed and again the track would appear. Whew! Exhausting is an understatement. After awhile, I only chopped were necessary and barreled through the rest. Twice we had to go over massive trees that had fallen directly across the track.

Brad dragging his kayak down the trail.

Finally, we began the descent into the river valley. Still fighting through the occasional thicket and tree fall. With the descent also came the sliding kayak which sometimes careened into a deep rut. We heard the sound of running water and glimpsed the Monkeytail off to our right. Seeing a wall of vegetation in front of us on the road we abandoned that and headed straight for the river. We were there!

Instead of setting up camp, it was about 4:30pm, I wanted to go up a bit. Big mistake. Already tired and dehydrated, we now had to walk up slippery, uneven terrain. After a few hundred meters enough was enough and we set up camp. After a hearty meal of fajitas we both passed out cold.

The next morning we arose still sore. My collar bone was killing me where the strap laid across to drag my kayak. That took a couple of days to heal up. After breakfast we headed upstream a little ways before being turned back by an endless boulder field. We headed downstream, walking almost as much as paddling it seemed. But the habitat was great. Nice clumps of large Quamwood trees.

We heard and saw several pairs of macaws along the Monkeytail that day. I spotted a pair sitting still and not really doing anything. This was quickly becoming indicative of there being a cavity nearby. We sat there watching them. Finally, one of the dove down sharply to the right. Where it went was out of our line of sight. So I moved downstream about 50m and there she was, head sticking out of a cavity in a Quamwood. Very cool! She stayed in there for a few minutes before they left screaming and flying to the east.

We found a cavity on the Monkeytail.

We continued pushing down the Monkeytail, stopping for lunch at the confluence with a major tributary coming in from the southeast. We moved up this tributary for a little while before turning around.

Brad maneuvering through the rocks.

Moving down this river is just brutal. It crushes your feet, bites your ankles and bruises your shins. The uplifts of slick granite are just a nightmare to walk across, especially while dragging a kayak behind you. Seeing someone maneuvering down it must be hilarious to watch. Not so much to do. You finally have your footing and your kayaks comes up from behind and sweeps your feet out from under you.

Brad lowering his kayak down a waterfall...or waterless fall.

We made it to about 500m above the confluence with the Raspaculo Branch and found just a fantastic campsite. Beaten down, we plopped down and got a fire going. We were going all out tonight. Spaghetti, baked potatoes and roasted garlic. Mmmmm. friggin' fantastic meal. And we heard macaws flying overhead.

Charles at the confluence of the Raspaculo (left) and Monkeytail (right) Branches
(photo courtesy of Brad Westrich).

We headed down the reservoir the next day. There were two occasions were pairs were most likely investigating cavities but they wouldn't give in and flew off rather than show us the cavity. Also had a couple of nice foraging flocks.

We went up the Macal River a little bit but decided to make our way out of the reservoir since the wind was blowing in a favorable direction. Two hours later we were out and heading to the FCD ranger base. We unloaded everything and headed back to town.

Here I am driving back to town...maybe happy..maybe a little
crazy (photo courtesy of Brad Westrich).

Eggs in the Chiquibul: 16-19 Feb

This week we traveled back to Cushtabani Camp on the Raspabulo Branch in hopes of revisiting three nests we had found earlier in the season. For our 100km of paddling, we were delighted to find eggs in two of the nests locating three additional cavities with macaw activity.

We began this past Tuesday morning, driving out early after munching on an assortment of street vendor greasy breakfast foods...quite filling. We loaded up at the FCD ranger base and were on the reservoir by 10am. By the time we reached the confluence of the Macal and Raspaculo Brad and I felt as if we had both ingested about 5 Benadryl each. Lethargic and sleepy, we searched the confluence for macaw activity. Finding none, we set up camp at the spring near the confluence.

The next morning we began the trip up the Raspaculo leg of the reservoir. On the way up, observed 3 pairs moving around checking out several cavities along one stretch. One pair eventually flew downstream, another pair visited a cavity that was active the week before and the last pair looked on as this pair inspected the cavity.

A macaw pair inspecting a cavity on the reservoir.

We moved on not wanting to disturb these macaws as they were still in the inspecting phase of nesting. We continued up the river, observing 39 macaws along the way. There was one tree with several pairs all displaying various forms of pair-bonding; from simply preening each other's heads to another pair hanging upside down while spreading their wings completely out. Another couple began to copulate nearby. Hmmm, maybe there is a nest tree nearby.

One the 18th, we were able to visit two nests observed on the last visit. Both had eggs! The first was rather close to the river. We made our way up a Tapir track to the base of the tree. Then had to clear out some vines in order to get a shot at putting a line over a branch.

Nest tree up the Raspaculo.

The real problem was that the female wouldn't leave the nest and I didn't want to risk hitting her with the slingshot. Brad tried slapping the tree a few times to no avail. I then walked up to the tree and gave it a solid sharp slap. She popped out like a cork!

A stubborn pair and there egg.

We pulled out the climbing gear and I shot a line over. We were ready to roll. The next issue was maneuvering through the canopy of vines and acacia. I made it through but t was slow going. After making it up to the cavity I put the camera in the hole and snapped this shot of a single egg. Nice! They've started. I quickly switched over to the descending gear and lowered myself back through the canopy with Brad swinging me away from the nastier parts.

Working on their nest the month before.

We pushed on to the next nest location situated just below Cushtabani Camp. Along the way we heard macaws on the north side of the river. A glimpsed something red through a crack in the dense riparian vegetation. There was a macaw inspecting a slit cavity located on a tree trunk. It then flew over to an adjacent tree and inspected another cavity with its mate. Still in the inspection phase, we noted the location and moved on.

We reached the next Cushtabani nest location where about a month before we had observed a pair checking out a cavity. Where was it. We neared the location and Brad spotted the place where a river otter had hissed at that very spot. We moved about another 25m or so upstream. Ahha. We were looking at the tree from an angle upstream of the tree itself, but still no activity. I then looked up at a tree with a large broken fork and there was a macaw with her head sticking out just checking us out! 'Ah, and there is the macaw', I said with my best nonchalant voice belying the excitement I felt.

Nest below Cushtabani Camp and their three eggs.

We chopped a path up through the eight feet tall grass and pushed into the open gallery understory. Not bad...but how to shoot a line with a slingshot through all of those vines? Well, we're here so let's try. Three shots and we were in business. Maybe the repetitions were beginning to help? It was Brad's turn at climbing this one. Man the canopy was twice as dense. I tried to help through moving the rope this way and that but in the end he had to do most of the moving. The parents were rather cooperative in exiting the nest and hanging out nearby...shreeking from time to time.

Brad maneuvered himself to below the nest and shoved the camera up into the cavity. Snap...looking at the photo he called down with excitement, 'Three eggs!' Very cool. That's a large clutch. Maybe two of those will survive to fledge. Brad then maneuvered back through the dense canopy and we were done for the day.

View from the nest.

Daylight was beginning to wind down for the day. I wanted to push up to look for a campsite. We made our way up another few hundred meters and there was another pair hanging out in a tree. Eventually they flew down to some notch. Not being able to see well I paddled upstream. They were sitting on a cavity. Another hundred meters up was a decent place to camp. As we were moving our gear up I turned back and observed one of the birds entering the cavity. Very cool!

The next morning they were still there. We moved up to Cushtabani and then turned around. All of the nests were still occupied aswe moved downstream. We camped up on a nice slope on the Raspaculo. However, we discovered the next day that I had left my leatherman at the last site and Brad left a sock. We'll see if they're still there the next time we visit the area.

My poor beaten down binoculars; the workhorse (in addition to the kayaks) of this adventure.

The last day started out very nice and scenic. We stopped at a beautiful pool to take it in and listen to some nearby macaws. We then noticed a huge xatero trail, new trash and a couple of recently used campfires. Hmmmm.

Brad and myself taking in a beautiful pool on the Raspaculo Branch.

We paddled down the reservoir and decided to just go for taking out that evening. It was crazy; the wind turned swiftly against us. We paddled into gale force winds. The chop was throwing water into our faces and the wind nearly ripped the paddles out of our hands...it was intense! and exhausting. We passed Rubber Camp on the main part of the reservoir as the light began fading.

Being afraid of missing our pick up, I picked up the pace. Darkness began to descend and the clouds rolled in. Soon we were paddling across the reservoir in complete darkness with only the faint sillouette of the hills sides acting as a directional guide. I paddled into one inlet to find that I had turned in too soon. I pulled out my headlamp and flashed it back towards Brad before continuing on. Soon I could see the shape of an island (now a peninsula in the low water of the dry season) that sits across the Ballerina Rd take out. I flashed my headlamp and Gliss flashed the headlamp from my Jeep. Ah, a sigh of relief. We were out.

The Sun's Fury: Macal and Raspa 9-12-Mar

Brad and I had a good but seriously exhausting week paddling 50km on the upper Macal River and Reservoir. The weeks of past overcast skies were long gone and the tropical sun beat down upon us with draining intensity. We made our way down to the Upper Macal via Despair Cairn Road atop Mountain Pine Ridge. Having to stop once to clear a fallen tree from the road we arrived at the drop-off around 10:30am.

Kayaking down the upper Macal.

It started out nice, but things got intense once we needed to visit trees off the river where we had observed macaws inspecting cavities a few weeks prior. Grabbing our machetes, we beat a path through thickets of spiny vines, tangles, and eight feet tall grass as thick as bamboo. All the while, biting horse flies swarmed assaulting our backs. For all that effort, the cavities were not active as yet. We did notice a lot of plumbeous kite pairs along the river and a solitary eagle soaring high above. Another interesting observation was a river otter in the same location as our last visit; must be a den somewhere nearby. All in all, we observed 10 macaws that day and 7 the next.

Chillin' around the campfire.

We chilled in the evenings, setting a campfire the first two nights to ward away the swarms of biting insects. The nights along the river are active. At least three species of frogs calling, the occasional shriek of a night heron, and my favorite, the loud stomping and crashing of a Tapir running by the camp towards the water. Gets your blood going...

While going down the river, we developed a survey method to increase our visibility of the trees beyond the tall riparian vegetation. At each stretch of long pools, we alternated standing on our kayak while the other person towed. So one of us had a great look at the surrounding area. Worked out well. On the shorter stretches we both got up and rowed gondola-style.

While doing this, I was pulling Brad when I noticed something large, dark, and not very rock-like in the water...Tapir! We were able to observe it for 10 minutes and get within 20 feet of it before it lost its cool and barreled off through a fallen trees and blasted into the vegetation.

Baird's Tapir drinking in the middle of the Macal River.

Tapir swimming away from us.

Now in full retreat.

We really hit the reservoir on day 3 and were punished severely by the sun. Having finished all of our water at breakfast, we wanted to wait to get to a spring located a little ways up the Raspaculo Branch; the reservoir water is just nasty. So we made our way down the Macal portion of the reservoir towards the confluence, stopping to check out an areas we saw a pair attempting to locate a cavity. They kept flying back into an areas and were chased away by a pair of Amazon parrots at one point. But we didn't find anything.

We made it to the spring, parched and maybe a little loopy. But it was great. It comes pouring out into a small waterfall, running down these stalactites that you can row under, get showered and fill up your water bottles. Fantastic and refreshing! We retired to a shady spot on the eastern bank for lunch. During this time a pair of macaws flew over the western ridge and landed above us. We wrapped up lunch and paddled away from the bank to observe them. They were perched and doing...nothing...absolutely nothing. After two hours of observation and splitting up, myself under the tree and Brad on the opposite bank, they finally revealed their nest to us in a concealed location on the backside of the tree.

It was too late to try to climb the tree and they were really bothered by us so we went across the river to camp and try again the next day. Along the reservoir, Macal and Raspaculo portions, we observed about 40 macaws that day.

On Friday morning, we headed upstream to check out a couple of nests, one from the previous year and a new one. Both were inactive. During this time, FCD brought some tourists from Blancaneaux Lodge for a tour in their motorboat. All I heard was voices and was wondering who was by our kayaks. We grabbed our machetes and ran down to the river. What a relief! So we all returned to the cavity and they watched as I scaled the tree. No activity. Oh well. We went up to the next nest and while the cavity looked great there was no activity as yet. We observed 11 macaws that day.


We headed back to the active nest and tried...for two hours!...to shoot a line over the fork above the cavity. No luck! The slingshot was just not powerful enough. Our best shots hit the trunk below the fork. Time for an upgrade. So we had to abandon our attempt for the next trip and we began our long exit trip to the take out just above the Chalillo dam.

What an exhausting paddle! The wind was at gale force; nearly ripping the paddle out of our hands. The chop assaulted the bows of our kayaks and water splashed in our faces. Onward we paddled, mile after mile in the waning light. We passed Rubber Camp and Brad was lagging behind. I didn't want our ride to leave without us so I pushed on.

We now paddled in complete darkness. The clouds were set above and the features surrounding the reservoir became alien. Was this the right inlet? Hmmm. I finally reached into my bag and pulled out a headlamp. I shined it back towards Brad so he could see where I was then I pushed forward to the next inlet. Then shined my light. Gliss, one of the FCD rangers, flashed the headlights of the Jeep and called out. We made it! I pulled my kayak out and Brad pulled up about ten minutes later.

Exhausted, we loaded up and changed into dry clothes. Off to the ranger base we went and back to town for a nice shower and a cold one...

To Chiquibul's end...

Brad, Glenn (FCD Ranger), and I headed down the Chiquibul Branch this past week. We originally intended to head down Monkeytail Branch but the condition of the long trail wewould be dragging the kayaks down was unknown. I also needed to survey the Chiquibul Branch and the road to the river was known to be good. So we loaded up that Tuesday morning and began the 2 hour drive to Bordel Camp.

We put in the river after 11am and planned to first head upriver, then head back down past Bordel Camp to Resumadero Camp before doubling back to the put in. However, this quickly changed. We struggled for an hour and a half moving the first 200 meters. It was ridiculous. My GPS screen was smashed, the handle I use to drag the kayak broke, and I lost my pocket knife that my brother gave me years ago.Argggggg!

Yet we pushed on. After more hauling we made it to another short pool. Ahead of us was another small boulder field with water running underneath it. I thought...hmmmm, better scout ahead. I grabbed the paddles and went climbing over the boulders and was disheartened with what I saw. I came back and had the fellas follow me to a vantage point ahead. The boulders were twice as high as those we had been struggling with and the end was not in sight.

The boulder field. My bane!

No more I said. Can't afford to destroy the kayaks and dry bags hauling them through this stuff. So we turned around and began exploring the lower Chiquibul. We passed Bordel Camp and stopped for lunch at the confluence with Smokey Branch. We then pushed up Smokey Branch about 5.5 km. Some good habitat for the first half but then turning into steeper terrain. We heard a single pair flying to the west of us at our camp.

One of many limestone overhangs.

The next day we covered 20km and saw 8 macaws. On the way out of Smokey Branch, the FCD Park Ranger burned 2 xatero camps. At the confluence we continued downstream. I must have flipped over 3 times that day; getting caught up on fallen logs.

The geology of this river is simply amazing. It is by far the most beautiful river that I've been on in Belize. Limestone cliffs, overhangs, and now we encountered a cave perched above the water. Too climb it?....maybe later.

Brad and Glenn head down a small rapid.

Cave perched above the river.

Then we passed through Natural Arch. This thing is huge! With stalactites on the ceiling and dripping with vegetation, it was mesmerizing passing under its eminence.

Charles in front of Natural Arch.

We continued down and about halfway from Natural Arch and Resumadero Camp we heard macaws. 1, 2, 3, 4 pairs of macaws passed overhead. One pair veered off and landed in some trees nearby but out of sight. We headed down a xatero trail and spotted the pair checking out a cavity on a nearby Quamwood tree. We watched them for twenty minutes then thought we heard something messing with out boats! We sprinted back not knowing what or WHO we would find there. But it was nothing...a trick of the mind. The macaws took off, screaming and flying to the east.

Nest Quamwood in center. Can see the red of the macaws if you zoom.

We continued downstream and then the river...stopped. It just pours down a hole and into the earth. Guess we should turn around.

End of Chiquibul Branch.

The next day we passed back through Natural Arch and stopped at the cave. Brad stood up on his kayak and pulled himself up into the cave using an overhanging branch. Guss it's time to man-up. I stood on my kayak. Hopped up and pulled myself up the branch. Way cool! There were Mayan pottery shards and a reinforced wall structure. Pretty cool. The rest of the trip was chill. Oh...besides the hook holding my hauling rope breaking. Had to haul my kayak backwards over the rapids. This is not fun.

Inside the cave.

All in all a good trip. Camped out for a day while awaiting our pick-up. Did a little bird watching and spotted an immature Black Hawk Eagle. Now we just need to find a way to get to the upper Chiquibul Branch.

Immature Black Hawk Eagle.

Taking off in an hour or so to the Chiquibul. Should be revisiting the Upper Macal and start climbing some nest trees. We'll see what happens when we get there!