23-24 Sept 2024
No rush this am, yet the birds don’t know – or care. I am awakened at the first light of dawn by the raucous birds. The curicaca’s antics act as my avian alarm clock. Mouthy little guys are a pain in the ass this morning.
My return north via Tranpantanteira Road
At 9 am, we board a van and head out onto the unpaved main, actually only, road north. The dust is horrendous, the bumps counting as thousands of steps. Along the way, men pump water into roadside water ponds hoping to save the myriad of wildlife who depend on these spots for their survival.
Everyone wishes for rain. It is still about 7 weeks away.
Hotel Mato Grosso Pantanal
We arrive in the heat of the day. This is relative: heat of the day begins about 11 am. After that time, temperatures rise but humidity drops. Smoke from fires continue to be an irritant.
The hotel is basic “fisherman style” with no ornamentation. A refrigerator, three beds ( many have five), and working air conditioner. All I need further is a cold beer.
For lunch, it is a Skol Pilsner. Doesn’t sound very Brazilian.
A quick search discloses despite its association with Brazil, Skol has its roots in Scotland. It was originally developed by Scottish brewers. Still, cold and good.
On the sluggish Rio Claro River
To describe this river as “sluggish” is vast under-exaggeration. It is still, shallow and clogged with water hyacinths. Our shallow-bottomed boat creeps away from the pier at 4 pm, when the sun is lower on the horizon. The air is still, hot and very uncomfortable. Also, the boat can’t move fast enough to even create a whiff of cooling breeze.
Our boat pilot alternates between putt-putt-putting and paddling through the shallow water. One center channel is marked with tree branches, directing traffic through the only “deep” water left.
We still scrape bottom. I think ours will be one of the last boats to ply these waters until rains come.
Rains are weeks away.
The hyacinth blooms are quite pretty. However, the floating water plant proliferates to the point they clog the rivers. Good caiman hunting spots for jaguars.
Along the riversides are a pair of Jabiru; a pair of Taco Toucans sip water from the river. A beautiful Rufescent Tiger Heron hunts in the hyacinths. The adult’s head, neck and chest are dark rust brown, with a distinctive white stripe down the center of the fore-neck. Close-by is a juvenile, mottled a buff golden with black and white features. Its throat, central chest, and belly are white. It takes some five years to acquire adult plumage.
Along the river bank is a pair of Green Iguanas. Capybaras forage on the shore or sit in the river. Capys have webbed feet perfect for swimming. Little Jacana “Jesus” birds peck along the water’s edge. And of course, there are the ubiquitous caiman. Where there is water, there are caiman. They laze onshore; they float with beady eyes above the water line; one small guy with a bite out of his tail wanders up to the lodge to lay alongside the cement caimans outside my room. Confused but safe?
We do not boat far. Water hyacinths clog both ends of the Rio Claro. Low water and these masses of floating hyacinths clog the rivers making them impassible.
These plants bloom, dry and die on the banks; the wet season comes and rains raise the water level by several feet. The water germinates the seeds, the weather warms and the hyacinths return.
Tapir
Ahead a giant Tapir goes this way and that way, undecided what to do. He hauls out of the water. Moments later he returns to the river.
He may look like a great big pig with a long prehensile snout but the tapir’s closest relatives are the horse and rhino. As adept on land as in the water, scientists believe these animals have changed little over tens of millions of years. This guy probably weighs upwards of 150 lbs. He finally ducked under the water but could be followed by his bubbles. I’m thinking this is not a real smart animal.
We move cautiously back to the pier.
The wish is for rain. A dispassionate sky teases out a few clouds.
Rain is many weeks away.
The Rio Claro remains an interesting river but today, I am so relieved my itinerary was changed so as to spend less time here and more days exploring Porto Jofre.
Morning hike in Forest
At 6 am, Roger leads me on a walk across the horse pasture and into the forest. The temperatures are low 80s, a higher humidity, and the sun is raging red from smoke in the air. Below us is the “sluggish” Rio Claro.
Our hike is within a gallery forest – a forest which grows along the banks of a river or wetlands. We encounter a group of inquisitive horses (they think humans=food?), a dusty trail, and several narrow plank bridges where water will one day flow again.
It is not a dense forest and our path is strewn with a layer of leaves. Not a lot of animal activity. I do see two Agouti hopping into the bush. It could be mistaken for a rabbit due to its similar coloration as it hops and scurries away. However, it is of the rodent (think rat) family and has short rat-like ears.
Call of the wild
I hear a grunting and muffled huffing in the distance. Roger explains it is a caiman. Caimans inhale air to create a low frequency deep roaring sound while exhaling. This causes the water to vibrate on their back. It is not a sound I would expect from this reptile. The noise can be heard over long distances as both a call and a warning.
Roger utters some strange sounds grunts. Below us in the river, a family group of 8-10 adult otters take notice. Inquisitive heads pop up from the water. Several interrupt their breakfast to swim toward us. What is this creature above us in the forest?
A series of loud squeaks, shrill squeals, chirping and babbling chatter erupts from the family. Evidently, Giant Otters have quite the range of different vocal calls. These include hums, grunts and squeals which they make to either greet each other, argue over fish, alert others, or sometimes just chatter. Surprisingly , Amazon’s giant otters are considered one of nature’s noisiest animals and an apex predator.
That boast is saying a lot when referring to the screamers, parrots, parakeets, toucans, macaws, and curicacas that hang out in Pantanal’s forests!
My return to Cuiabá
Our drive continues several long, bumpy miles on the dusty Tranpantanteira before we reach a paved road near Poconé. Then, the drive, at least smooth, is another 60 miles to Cuiabá. This allows a few hours for reliving my memories of the Pantanal.
There are many things that made my week in the Pantanal, especially in Porto Jofre, very special. The first would have to be the decision to travel here. So much focus is placed on traveling into the Amazon and on the Amazon River, that the Pantanal is often overlooked. This is a major mistake.
The Pantanal is an amazing ecosystem. To experience the Pantanal is to gain a greater understanding and respect for its importance to all our planet. It’s flora and fauna are unique. To watch jaguars within their natural habitat is something I will never forget. I want to protect them; through the Jaguar ID Project I will be able to adopt one. I have my heart set on your cub, Mikaela.
A second lucky break was having excellent guides throughout Brazil. Each had the experience, knowledge, and desire to share their part of the world with me. In the Pantanal, Tim and Roger were super guides for Pantanal Safaris.
And last, probably least, I never met a mosquito.
