Of Singing Whales and Sparkling Spiders

Two weeks ago, our kids came to visit us here in Costa Rica (Tom and I were planning on staying just three weeks but we are still here at week five, but that is another story) which was the best sort of gift for Tom and me. Cici and Kiwi each brought boyfriends Dan and Morgan so with Clark there were seven of us staying at the casita.

One of the many benefits of their visit was that their keen senses and young minds caught details that Tom and I increasingly miss. One day, they observed a small school of rays surfing in the cresting waves at Playa San Miguel. Another day, Kiwi spotted a tiny tick crawling up her leg---that I couldn’t even see! They pick out bird calls that I can’t discern. The night sky, so full of stars, is apparently even more full to them.

One day at the beach, we all swam outside the breakers, floating on the soft swells and reveling in the warm water that enveloped us.  Kiwi and Morgan, always on exploration mode, dove to the bottom to observe the sandy floor habitat.  Suddenly, Morgan shot to the surface yelling, “Whale!”

He hadn’t seen anything but instead heard the unmistakable melody of a singing humpback whale.

We immediately took great gulps of air and dove down to listen to the haunting sounds. Over and over, we kicked towards the bottom to listen to the rising and falling groans, whines, and clicks that reached our ears. We were mesmerized.

Scientists have not yet concluded with certainty whether these males sing to attract a mate or to announce their presence to other males but at that moment, it didn’t matter. There was no telling how far away this animal was since sounds carries so well underwater, but it was breathtaking to imagine that somewhere in the same sea, not too far distant, a massive whale was singing a song to another----and we could listen in.

Stock photo courtesy of The Independent.co.uk

A couple of nights ago, Tom and enjoyed dinner at our neighbor’s house (the last before they went into isolation). We walked back home with only starlight and Tom’s headlamp to guide us. As we walked down our road, Tom started exclaiming that there were tiny jewels on the road and in the leaf litter along the side of the track. One after another point of blue-green light sparkled at him. I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. When he looked closely, each glittering gem turned out to be attached to the head of a rather bland-looking brown spider. They were everywhere!

As soon as I put on the headlamp (with bright LED bulbs), the jungle jumped out in tiny points of light. As long as the light was in our line of sight the little retinas (or whatever spiders have in their sophisticated eyes) reflected it back at us in a completely enchanting way. A little research revealed that these are a type of wolf spider, a night hunter that can be found all over the world---and revealed by light at night.

Stock photo courtesy of Whatsthatbug.com

The sheer numbers and geographic spread of the little hunters was problematic for an arachnophobe like Tom, but to give him full credit for bravery, we have gone out several nights since on successful spider safaris.

Surfing

Surfing

Nice wave at Playa San Miguel

It was Tom’s wish for this trip that I learn to surf so that I could join him on the countless mornings (and afternoons) that he heads down to the beach to catch waves. Now, I can goof around on a big longboard and call it surfing, but I am not good at it. I have not spent enough time on a board in the water to be able to read the waves consistently, put myself in the right place to pick one up and then ride it standing and turning back to the beach. Because for a long time I have felt that not really knowing how to surf was a hole in my water education and since I love being in the ocean and enjoy an athletic challenge, now is the time to do it.

Tom and friend Bill post surf: 7am

The good part about learning how to surf in Costa Rica is that the water is so deliciously warm that there is no shock, no hesitation about going in and getting cold doesn’t eventually chase you out. The water is also brilliantly clear so the marine biologist in me gets a thrill most times we’re out when I am granted a visit by a school of rainbow runners or young roosterfish. Occasionally, I can see straight to the bottom even way out past the breakers and catch a glimpse of a sleety blue stingray or blunt-nosed cow ray resting on the sand.

Closeout wave at Playa San Miguel

 The harder part of learning to surf, is everything else. I am using a short board for the first time which is surprisingly narrow and very tippy. I can paddle out through the waves, wait for the right one and paddle into it and catch it, but this is when the trouble starts. You are supposed to then quickly pop up from your stomach to feet and then glide, turning to keep ahead of the curl to extend your ride. Standing on this new surfboard is like trying to get to your feet on a piece of plastic the width of a laptop that is balanced on a roller that is spinning down a bumpy hill at ten miles an hour.  Inevitably, I get into a low crouch and then as I start to stand, go flying off in any random direction. For me, a long ride is two seconds, maybe three. Fortunately, the churning waves are forgiving—and warm—and the board usually shoots out in front or to the side and I haven’t yet been clobbered by it.

Me, still smiling, at Playa San Miguel

So I keep paddling out and picking up waves and bit by bit am finding my balance. I imagine that each ride I stand a little longer or ride a little farther. Today I had two rides that could be described as slightly controlled falls so I’m pretty pleased.  

Sunset light through a late afternoon wave

Los Pelicanos

Los Pelicanos

We moved to Southern California in November and were immediately enchantedreassured by the relative abundance of brown pelicans along the rocky shores of the Palos Verdes Peninsula. Lines of them skim over the breaking waves, soar in cliff side updrafts and bob in the swells behind the breakers. They do all of these things with the most serious expression and controlled demeanor. We have yet to see a rattled pelican. They are all grace and exhibit perfect mastery of their environment.

As soon as we arrived here in Costa Rica and got to the beach we were pleased to see the pelicans were here too. Brown pelicans are endangered in the United States, their numbers still recovering from the DDT disaster, but here populations seem to be steady, with plenty of nesting habitat and food. It is easy to observe them feeding even from shore which is of course, super entertaining to watch. The pelicans fly above the water scanning for fish.

When a fish—or a school—is spotted the bird folds its wings and dives, hitting the water open beak first, with tremendous force. It then gathers itself back at the surface, tucking its wings in and if there is indeed something edible in its enormous bill, the bird tips its head back and swallows its catch. 

It then takes off and repeats the whole process again.

No matter how many times we see it, a pelican feeding offshore is always amazing to witness.

We're back--again! Beginnings of another month in Costa Rica

 Beginnings

Though sunsets are often used (yes, as a cliché) to signal the end of a story, our current month’s stay in Costa Rica started with one so sublime, that I felt it should be shared. Since it had been nine months since we had been here, Tom and I spent much of the day saying hello to as many of our favorite spots as we could, starting at dawn at Playa San Miguel. 

We were drawn back to the beach for a late afternoon swim and ended our first day with this sunset which wrapped around us and only intensified as the sun slipped away. 

We only left for home when the earth turned far enough for vermillion to be replaced by indigo.

We can't wait to jump into new adventures in this fabulous country and I'll share as many as I can. Welcome back!

Blog 11 Antlions and Armadillos

The antlion and the armadillo have absolutely nothing in common except their names start with “A.”
But they both live here iin Costa Rica and they’re pretty interesting animals. The antlion is, as it’s name suggests, a ferocious creature that eats ants. It does this by digging a perfectly conical hole in soft ground. When an ant wanders by, a little too close to the edge and slips in (and there are a lot of ants around to fall in), it can’t get out do to the steep slippery slope and the antlion leaps from the sand at the bottom of the pit and grabs the ant. I love to take pictures of animals, and real nature photographers are a patient lot waiting sometimes weeks for the perfect shot. I am not that patient and did not get a photo of the actual antlion (even after trying to fool it with a tiny rock dropped into its pit) but I have the next best thing: a photo of its perfectly sculpted trap (with submerged antlion out of view at the bottom). These pits are all over the ground in areas of properly sized soil.

Armadillos even though they are strictly nocturnal, are easier to photograph (especially if your camara has a flash) because they grub around in the dry leaves looking for insects and there is one that lives in Marie’s garden and roots around in her plants nearly every night, much to her dismay. Itsy, the little dog, (see photo as reminder) loves to chase this cute thing but I usually discouraged her since I was always looking for a good photo of the little armored tank.

This one shows the strong front claws that the armadillo utilizes every night for digging and the pebbly texture of its plated skin. Sometimes armadillos become roadkill due to a particularly maladapted (for cars at least) defensive trait: when they are startled, they jump straight up in the air, two feet high or more which is unfortunately just about the same height as the front of most cars. If they laid low instead, they just might survive the vehicle encounter with no more than a momentary shadow above as they move about in their nightly search for dinner.

Post 10: The Trees

Guanacaste tree (I think) in cow pasture

When you visit Costa Rica, it’s impossible not to notice the trees. Some are massive, arching over the entire highway while others form canopies of colors when they burst into bloom. Others like the figs dangle aerial roots that reach from branch to ground and then root, creating a forest of trunks from a single tree.

Cenizaro tree in another pasture. Notice that its width is more than three times its height!

Trees in the Guanacaste region of Costa Rica help define the land, the people and the habitats of the animals that reside here. Many of the trees mix together to form tangled jungles but other trees stand out either by sheer size or paradoxically, during the dry season, their blooms.
I went on an expedition this morning to try to find a huge tree that I can see from the house that towers above all of its neighbors on the nearby peninsula. It presides over the slope, a great spreadying canopy of green among many smaller deciduous trees. Since Wendy has been tutoring me on native trees including their historic uses and medicinal values, I was especially curious to determine what type of tree this was, though I already had my suspicions.
With small dog Itsy as my companion, I hiked via trail over the hill and once I could glimpse it, I left the trail and worked my way down a steep slope towards it, following faint animal trails. Though I wore boots and carried a big stick, I moved slowly on the lookout for snakes which could include rattlers, boas and the deadly fer de lance. In spite of some thick underbrush, I made it to the tree without incident and was able to confirm that it was a massive Guanacaste tree which lends its name to this region. These grand tree is at least 300 years old.

Guanacaste trees were often spared from cutting when forests here were cleared for cattle pastures a century or so ago.  They provided welcome shade in this hot climate and still shelter cattle and tired travelers today.
The special present that I received when I finally reached the shelter of the giant branches was a pair of Long-tailed Manakins. I saw the female first who is a rather drab olive green but has cute bright orange legs.

The male is black with a blazing red crown and spectacular turquoise cape that are barely evident in this long telephoto shot. His long tail feathers are easily seen, however.

Another tree of note is this unusual looking tree that is often used as a living fence and goes by many names. In the Caribbean it is called the Gumbo Limbo tree but here it is called either El Indio Desnudo which means the Indian’s clothes but my favorite local name for it is the Tourist Tree which its peeling red bark humorously alludes to!

I discovered this tree (below) on another hike and I love its amazing seed pods. I think it should be called the flying urchin tree since they look just like sea urchins to me but in Costa Rica it is called the monkey comb tree.

Most striking are the trees which periodically flower here. Since they often flower en masse during the dry season, their crowns are literally covered with bright flowers, a car-stopping show if you drive past one of these beauties in bloom. This is the Cortez Amarillo, one of the most spectacular of the trees that have bloomed since I have been here.

A number of tropical trees have cottony fluff around their seeds (kind of like our cottonwood trees) which help the seeds drift and disperse in the wind. Called kapok, it was once used to fill pillows, mattresses, and even stuffed animals. The towering Ceiba tree's (also called the Kapok tree) fibers are also bouyant and water resistant. The tree was cultivated for its kapok which filled most life preservers made until recently and would have been responsible for floating many shipwreck survivors including those on the Titanic.

Kapok blowing in the wind

Poroporo trees have big yellow flowers that are followed by cotton-ball like kapok and the balsa tree across the road creates so much fuzz that it is clogging the pool filters.

Poroporo flowers and seed pods

Fallen balsa tree kapok looks like fuzzy caterpillars

Everyone who's been to Hawaii is familiar with the beautiful plumeria (or frangiapani) flower that makes such wonderfully fragrant leis. The same flower grows wild here although it is called Flor Blanca (white flower). The delicate beauty of the easily bruised flowers does not suggest the rugged tenacity of the tree which manages to sprout and grow in the cruelest of habitats. Almost all of the dry rocky headlands here are decorated with blooming plumeria which grow seemingly out of solid rock, and present their fragrant bouquets to us to enjoy along the fractured shore.

Baby plumeria tree

Blog 9 Tope!

Mel and one of his horses

Tope is another word for cabalgata and cabalgata means Costa Rican horse party. Since I love horses and I love Costa Rica, when I hear the word tope (pronounced to-pay) coupled with an invitation, I smile, big time.

Tom arrived last Friday and since the tope was on Saturday, the first thing he did here (besides an early morning surf and swim) was to get dragged to an all day, all in Spanish, music, beer and food fiesta in nearby Quebrada Nanda.
These get togethers occur about once a month and many of the towns in the Guanacaste region take turns hosting. The festivities center around displays of horsemanship since the horse was—and to some extent still is—central to the cattle industry which grew this part of Costa Rica. Topes also help cement friendships and strengthen community ties between towns in a sparsely populated land.
As I understand, each tope/cabalgata is a little different depending on the hosting community. This one started around 11:00am as all manner of vehicles converged on a sawmill that was nesteled under a clump of huge mango trees. A bar, outhouses and a small stage had been constructed for the occasion and dozens of tables and chairs set up. We traveled with friends Karen, Mike, and Wendy and two trucks hauling horses from “our” town, Pueblo Nuevo. One of the horses belonged to neighbor Mike and Wendy and I had arranged to share a borrowed horse which was also hauled in.
The music was already playing as we arrived and the beer (kept ice cold in a huge watering trough) already being happily consumed. We joined the family that hauled the horses from Pueblo Nuevo at their table and were soon eating the delicious food that emerged on giant trays from the converted sawmill.
This is the same family I wrote about last year (Cabalgata post), who are the leading horse family in the area. Don Antonio is the imposing but friendly padre and Mel, his son, trained many of the horses that were featured at this tope.
For hours we ate and drank and listened to music while absorbing the sights and sounds of rural Costa Rica. Course after course of different dishes--tacos, rice, ribs, soup--arrived tableside and in our limited Spanish, we expressed appreciation.
Music sets alternated with horses being put through their paces to an appreciative audience while informal races were conducted out on the street. The climax for riders was the parade from the mill to the town center. As the sun was setting, all the horses were s addled up and riddento the community center where the entire party was transported for a huge dance. Those that wanted to, continued riding, showing off their horses and running around for fun on the town's soccer field.
We didn't stay to the end of the party. Full of food, beer and good company, we piled back into the truck for a bumpy but congenial ride back home. The horses followed much later, in the back of their own truck, certainly even more tired than we were.

Mini horse rides--note baby water buffalo (!) in the background that was the mount for earlier rides

Girl in kitchen window

Tope!

Horses amusing themselves while waiting

One of many courses

Three white horses

Another padre, getting ready for parade

Beginning of the group ride/parade which included a music truck with huge speakers (background)

Mel led the ride

Neighbor Mike on his horse, Rain

Kids and minis on the soccer field

Mel and his horse on "dancing" platform which resonates the sound of the hoofbeats,  in time with the music

After dark, serious horse negotiations commenced

At dusk, me on sweet Rosita, borrowed horse-for-the-day