Nature at work ... making hats beside the Tortuguero Canal.Credit: AFP
Steve McKenna is enthralled by the exotic cast of Costa Rica's 'mini-Amazon'.
Hoisting my luggage on to his sturdy shoulders, Willis Rankin beckons me aboard his motor canoe and, in his cheerful Jamaican-tinged English, beams: "Take a seat man!" We're heading to Tortuguero, a remote Caribbean coastal village that, on the face it, has little to offer tourists.
It can't be reached by road, is surrounded by shark- and crocodile-infested waters and receives more rainfall a year than Sydney, Melbourne, London and New York combined.
But, thanks in part to its nickname, "the mini Amazon", it's emerging as one the jewels in Costa Rica's burgeoning eco-tourism industry, attracting both serious wildlife lovers and, increasingly, people like me, who love David Attenborough documentaries but have never had the inclination to buy a pair binoculars.
Leaving behind the ragged old Caribbean port city Limon, we zip through a labyrinth copper-shaded rivers and canals that fringe what Willis calls "the rainiest rainforests" (though, fortunately, it's sunny and dry today).
Our affable 25-year-old captain has been plying these waterways since he was a child and is quick to display his eagle-eye, spotting kingfishers, toucans, blue herons, sandpipers, jacanas and a gaggle cormorants hiding in coconut trees and amid swathes lime-green lillies. About 400 bird species comprise the impressive cast Tortuguero and its adjoining national park.
There are also 60 types frog, scores reptiles, jaguars, monkeys, sloths and, as the village's name suggests (Tortuguero roughly translates to Home Turtles), an abundance shelled giants.
It's these I'm particularly interested in seeing, especially as it's nesting season for the endangered Atlantic green turtles.
When he landed near Tortuguero in 1502, Christopher Columbus dubbed this stretch the Caribbean "la costa rica" (the rich coast). But it wasn't nature that impressed him. He was dazzled by the jewellery worn by the local indigenous tribes, claiming he saw "more gold in two days than in four years in Spain".
We see nothing the sort but as we motor on, golden-yellow butterflies flutter across the path our canoe. Tiny birds race alongside us, then flap off into the forest at dazzling speeds. We spot a bright green iguana. Then a three-toed sloth.
Later, we see a group howler monkeys. Most are clutching tree trunks, though a few are swinging between the branches. In the river below, we glimpse a crocodile. It seems to be waiting - just in case.
At the end the four-hour journey, Willis docks at Tortuguero, where a smiling man in a white vest welcomes us.
"This is Roberto - he's me cousin," Willis says. The Rankin family, I discover, were some the first settlers to Tortuguero back in the 1930s. They came from Jamaica, initially to fish, then to log trees. Now tourism is the lifeblood descendants.
Roberto walks me to my hotel, giving me an impromptu tour the village, which is on a spit between the Tortuguero River and the pounding surf the Caribbean Sea.
There's a little church, a police station, a school, a recycling centre, a few artisan shops, a handful tour agencies, cafes and restaurants and a smattering clapboard houses, wooden cabins and up-scale hotels and eco-lodges.
Alongside rusting old wood-mill machinery, old men lounge under trees. Children in school uniform amble past. We see a red frog hopping along, too.
Roberto agrees to take me turtle watching.
"OK - wear black," he says. "And leave ya camera at home - the flash scares the turtles."
At 9.30pm, five Dutch tourists and I meet Roberto, who is on his mobile talking to his colleagues, the turtle spotters. He insists we need to be patient and ushers us towards a bench near Tortuguero's black-sand beach.
We sit. Roberto tells us about the turtles' mating process (the male fertilises the eggs shortly before the female comes onshore), the nesting season (between June and October) and the village's turtle conservation projects (leatherback, loggerhead and hawksbill turtles also visit Tortuguero).
Then we wait. And wait. An hour later, Roberto's phone rings. "Quick," he says, frog-marching us to the beach. We can make the white the waves breaking - and something sliding beneath them. Roberto turns on his red flashlight.
"Oh, it's a big one - about 200 kilograms," he whispers, as the huge disappears. "Don't worry, she'll be back."
We wait some more. It starts to rain. When thunder claps, we're beckoned into the forest undergrowth. Initially we think it's so we can shelter. Then we see it: a massive turtle is just metres away, plopping dozens eggs the size table-tennis balls into a muddy hole (green turtles can spawn up to 120 eggs a time and about 600 during a season). It's an awesome, surreal spectacle.
When she's done, the turtle uses her flippers to paddle mud over the bulging nest. "Aww, how cute," coos one the Dutch girls.
It's vital the nest is well covered, not just to keep the eggs dry and at a stable temperature, but to hide them from crabs, birds, dogs, raccoons and even humans, who illegally poach them to sell as a culinary delicacy.
When the eggs hatch about 60 days later, the baby turtles will instinctively head to sea. Predators are bound to snatch many. The ones that make it to the water will have to deal with marine critters, including sharks.
"Usually, all those hundreds eggs, just one or two survive," Roberto says. "They can live 'til they're 80."
Her hard work done, the turtle scampers back down to sea. As we follow her, another turtle is hauling itself up the beach. Rain continues to pour and lightning strikes, illuminating everything in a momentary fuggy haze. There are more turtles coming ashore.
Roberto says it's time to leave them to it. We don't argue. We're drenched. But it's a small price to pay for having seen what we did. Tortuguero, we discover, is a place where endurance is rewarded.
Trip notes
Getting there: American Airlines flies from Los Angeles to San Jose, Costa Rica; Nature Air (natureair.com) flies to Tortuguero. For nature kicks, take a bus from San Jose to Puerto Limon (three hours), then a motor canoe to Tortuguero with All Rankin's Tours. Phone +506 758 4160, see greencoast.com/allrankin.
Where to stay: Casa Marbella bed and breakfast has doubles from $US35 ($38) a night, see casamarbella.tripod.com.
Manatus Hotel has two-night packages from $US338 a person, see manatuscostarica.com.
Further information: Roberto Rankin's turtle-watching tours cost $US20. Phone +506 709 8101 or +506 815 5175.
See tortuguerovillage.com.
Source: The Sun-Herald
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