As we approached the landing that would allow us to
penetrate the jungle shore of the Rio Napo, two parrots winged their way
overhead, en route to the same clay lick where we were headed, the same spot
where we could hear hundreds of other squawking parrots congregating as part of
their morning
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| Dawn along the Rio Shiripuno. We heard parrots - we just couldn't see them. |
I hoped this journey would help me realize an ambition I’d
failed to realize the previous week, when I’d paddled down the Rio Shiripuno
through Ecuador’s Amazon rainforest.
As stated elsewhere in this space, I have two main passions in my life: paddling and parrots. I
live with two African grey parrots, and I have spent many summers canoeing or
kayaking since I dipped my first paddle into a pond at a summer youth camp, 40
years ago.
I took this trip to combine the two of them: I’d be able to
paddle a section of a remote river in the wild Amazon rainforest to see – and
hopefully photograph – parrots in their natural habitat.
The paddling trip covered a section of the river that cut
through the territory of the Huaorani, one of the last indigenous Amazon tribes
to encounter western civilization. Their first contact came with North American
missionaries in 1956.
I spent five days kayaking on the river, traveling with
guides from EcoAdventour, a local outfit that worked with U.S.-based Adventure Life as well as the Huaorani chief, Moi. Two hours onto the
river, we saw some macaws fly overhead, so my hopes were high that we would see
plenty of parrots – and take plenty of photos.
We saw numerous other wild birds during our river trip,
including military macaws, blue-headed parrots, and Amazons. We also saw
various other species of birds: toucans perched overhead in treetops;
kingfishers zipping up and down the river; a pair of nightjars in their nest,
right near our second night’s campsite, herons at various points along the
river; and a solitary harpy eagle sitting high above the river in the crown of
a tree.
However, paddling a kayak - even a touring kayak on a
relatively placid river - and trying to get in position to take good photos of
birds proved to be mutually exclusive activities most of the time, so I did not
capture any good bird shots, and had very few good “parrot photo ops” during
the expedition.
INTO THE CLOUD FOREST, THEN BACK TO THE JUNGLE
Following the river trip, I’d spent a day exploring the
cloud forest of the country’s transitional zone between the high Andes and the
lowland jungle. Cloud forest vegetation is sparser, and more sturdy than lush,
but still much thicker than what we would see at a similar elevation in Canada
This transitional zone is home to numerous bird species,
including the Andean cock of the rock, many hummingbird species, and in some
areas, parrots.
However, I was still not able to get close enough to take
any pictures of parrots on my trip through the cloud forest. A slight change in
our travel plans arose, resulting in an opportunity to go back into the
rainforest and visit a parrot lick. Yeah, I jumped at it.
A half-hour plane trip, two-hour bus ride and three-hour
river excursion via motorized dugout canoe brought us to a jungle trail on
Ecuador’s Rio Napo. A 15-minute hike followed by a half-hour paddle in a small
dugout canoe across the jungle lake Laguna Garzacocha (literally, “Heron Lake”
in the native Quechua language) landed us at La Selva Jungle Lodge, located on
a bluff overlooking the lake.
We spent that evening exploring the area around the lodge
during a night hike through the jungle. We spotted a small caiman (a cousin to
the crocodile), and a nine-banded armadillo. But, I was here to see (and
photograph) parrots. Take me to the birds!
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| This caiman was about three feet long. Some grow up to 12 feet. |
The next day came early enough, with a 5 a.m. wake-up call. I
traveled with my own personal guide, Omar, paddling and hiking back to the Rio
Napo, then headed upriver by motorized dugout for 15 minutes to the parrot lick.
As I walked the short path between the river and the lick, the sound of
hundreds of parrots squawking grew louder, as my excitement mounted.
I quickly reached the blind and after setting up quickly, I
sat and watched them flit around through the treetops, squawking and whistling,
interacting with other birds.
Omar identified four parrot species: Mealy amazons (Amazona
farinosa), yellow-crowned amazons (A. ochrocephala), blue-headed
parrots (Pionus menstruus) and dusky-headed parakeets (Aratinga
weddellii).
I watched a pair groom each other on a branch; on another
tree, one parrot chased a second one away from what was obviously, a favored
perch; elsewhere, a lone parrot groomed himself, then shook his tail, reminding
me of my own companion African grey parrots’ behavior back home.
Two hours later, the flock winged away to new adventures,
leaving the trees empty and silent. The birds never did land on the lick, so I still
did not have the good close-up shots of wild parrots I desired.
As we headed back to the lodge, a pair of macaws glided high
overhead, teasingly out of camera range, and the thought struck me that perhaps
the enjoyment of simply watching wild parrots interact in their natural
environment was enough, perhaps the pictures did not seem to matter so much … .
Besides, since I didn’t get the shots I wanted, I have a
good excuse to go back ….
This is what a busy parrot lick looks like - not my experience at Yasuni.
(This trip, taken a few years ago, was the first time I combined parrots with paddling - in some ways, the inspiration for this blog's title. Different versions of this adventure have appeared previously in different magazines, including the Georgia Straight and Parrots magazine.)
This is what a busy parrot lick looks like - not my experience at Yasuni.
(This trip, taken a few years ago, was the first time I combined parrots with paddling - in some ways, the inspiration for this blog's title. Different versions of this adventure have appeared previously in different magazines, including the Georgia Straight and Parrots magazine.)
