Island magic never seems to disappoint

How much fruit can an orangutan eat?

So I'm headed off to Vancouver Island for a short
two-day trip today (Thursday) in the Comox area. I hope to see some seals, whales, maybe a dolphin or two, and definitely some sea-going birds (no sea parrots - a.k.a., puffins - on this trip though!) with Vancouver Island Marine Tours and Adventures.

It's certainly not my first trip to the island, and certainly won't be my last.

Thinking about it got me thinking about all the incredible island destinations I've visited. Of course, I just got back from one last week, and I'm wondering why it took me so long to visit Cape Breton Island. Nova Scotia hospitality always seems to shine, and that trip was no exception.

While I've been to many of the "must-do" islands, I've also been to some less renowned islands. But it doesn't seem to matter which category of island I'm on, as they always seem to produce a magical trip with memorable experiences.

So, without further ado, here's my Top List of Island Experiences I've enjoyed through the years, in no particular order.

1. Borneo: hanging out with primates. During a trip to the Malaysian part of the island, I visited not one, but two orangutan sanctuaries, facilities set up to act as a halfway house for re-introducing captive primates back to the wild.

Then I also saw not one, but two completely wild orangutans while cruising up and down the Kinabatangan River on wildlife safaris. While on the island, I also had the chance to see proboscis monkeys along that river as well as at Bako National Park.

2. Hawaii: swimming with sharks, diving with dolphins. In a two week trip to Hawaii, I was able to climb into the shark tank at the Maui Ocean Center and scuba dive with sharks, rays, and some other fish for about an hour. Really cool experience.

Then a week later on the Big Island, I went on an excursion out onto the Pacific Ocean and snorkeled with a pod of wild spinner dolphins. Equally cool.


Let's go hang out with the sharks.

3. Belize: cay-hopping and snorkeling. While this is not an island country, there are plenty of cays along its coast, and my first international trip of any kind (outside of Canada or the USA) involved a five-day paddle out to the barrier reef, camping on various cays along the way. It was also my first time kayaking (I'd been only a canoeist prior to that) and my first time snorkeling. Still one of my best snorkeling experiences anywhere.

Spotted this happy-looking parrot on the Mastic Trail.

4. Cayman Islands: parrot-spotting in the rainforests. There is plenty to do in the water in the Caymans, but also plenty of cool stuff to do on land, especially if you like birds. I got to see a flock of Grand Cayman parrots on the main island's Mastic Trail, then saw a few mated pairs of the very rare Cayman Brac parrots in the forests of the island those birds are named after.

5. Cape Breton Island: puffin tour. There is much more to do on Cape Breton than eating lobster (although it is scrumptious!) One of the main highlights of my tour there was being able to see puffins on Bird Island, with Donelda's Puffin Tours. There were plenty of other birds to see there, as well, but seeing puffins really made my trip.

6. Canary Islands: seeing the rarest of all parrots. During attendance at the 2006 Loro Parque International Parrot Convention, I had the opportunity to tour the private aviary and saw several pairs of Spix's macaws. Up until recently, they were extinct in the wild, and Loro Parque is working to make sure they don't disappear completely. For those unfamiliar, this the species that inspired the Disney movie, Rio.

7. Quadra Island: canoeing the ocean. A small island off the east coast of Vancouver Island near Campbell River, I've visited this island twice. During my visits, I had a chance to canoe in and around Heriot Bay, spotting eagles on the island where we lunched and plenty of seals on the rocks nearby. Oh, and plenty of jellyfish (the kind you want to avoid) floating around on the ocean.

Sunset in the Ten Thousand Islands.

8. Ten Thousand Islands, Everglades National Park, Florida: kayaking in the 'Glades. This series of mangrove islands on the southwest Florida coast are not what most people picture when they think of the Everglades. Located on the Gulf of Mexico, it was more like cay-hopping in Belize, than swamp paddling (which I've also done.) What did we see? What didn't we see, would be more appropriate. We saw ospreys battling overhead, dolphins swimming under our kayaks, sea turtles, egrets, herons, raccoons. Great trip.

9. Vancouver Island: falconer for a day. One of my favourite experiences on Vancouver Island was spent learning about falconry with Pacific Northwest Raptors. And it was all hands-on, working with the birds, experience. We got to walk with them, then fly them, just a wonderful way to spend a day.

10. Joe Island, Joe Lake, Algonquin Provincial Park, Ontario: canoeing. Another of the "lesser-known" islands (unless you happen to be a regular park paddler) it marked either the start or finish of many a multi-day canoe trip in the park. It created many fond memories that I still treasure - including the time we awoke to find a raccoon unzipping our tent door because it smelled food inside the tent! Glad it wasn't a bear...

Of course, there are some honourable mentions that didn't quite crack the Top 10:

• Spirit Island in Maligne Lake, Jasper National Park, Canada (you can't actually camp there or even land on the island, but it's an inconic Canadian image)
• Grand Manan Island, New Brunswick (kayaking and hiking adventures)
• numerous other unnamed islands in Algonquin Provincial Park

So...what are some of YOUR favourite island experiences? Please let us know in the comments.

When Irish eyes are smiling...and it's not even Ireland

Does it get any more Irish than Guinness?

So, St. Patrick's Day is upon us ... and tradition holds that I should write something about Ireland in
my blog to mark the occasion.

The problem is, I haven't BEEN to Ireland. (At least not yet).

The closest I've been physically (and for that matter, spiritually) is Wales.

I have written a couple of published stories about Wales, as well as blogged about it, but we're not celebrating St. David's Day (is there such a holiday for the patron saint of Wales?), so that doesn't really count.

It's not that I don't WANT to go to Ireland...I've just always had other destinations on my radar. And it's not like there aren't things to interest me in that country. Never mind the fact it's the home of both Guinness stout and Bushmill's Irish Whisky, there are also some excellent birding and paddling opportunities there (although the chance of spotting parrots there might be slim to none...).

I always celebrate St. Pat's Day at home with some Celtic music, an Irish dish or two (this year I'm making a meatloaf baked in a Guinness glaze), and plenty of Guinness  (both in a glass and in the food), Bushmill's, Bailey's, and a movie or two with an Irish theme (The Quiet Man, The Fighting Prince of Donegal are two of my favourites) and some old episodes of Remington Steele that were set in Ireland.

 Let's do a little cooking with Guinness...

I often read stories from Ireland, from a collection called Irish Folk Tales by Henry Glassie, that I've owned for about 27 years.

I also receive regular press releases from Tourism Ireland ... in fact, the one I received Wednesday of this week was very interesting.

It was slugged, "St Patrick’s celebrations get the green light around the world - Tourism Ireland’s Global Greening goes from strength to strength with 190 major landmarks and sites taking part this year – celebrating Ireland and St Patrick."

The reason I say it's interesting for me is because, as the release states, "Some 190 iconic landmarks and sites around the world will be illuminated in green over the coming days – as part of Tourism Ireland’s 2016 Global Greening initiative to celebrate the island of Ireland and St Patrick."

It goes on to list many sites, and includes Canada: "several sites will join the Global Greening celebrations including  the 'green lantern' of the Canadian Museum of Nature in Ottawa, Ontario" - which is a place I've visited.

At the Nature Museum, the reptiles chase St. Patrick...

The Calgary Tower is also involved in the occasion. When I worked as a communications consultant for the Alberta Wilderness Association in 1999 and 2000, the tower was (and still is) a big part of the AWA's schedule of annual events aimed at helping keep the province "green" with its Tower Climb held every spring.

Niagara Falls is also involved, a place I've visited many times, and written about a few times, as well.

My most recent visit to those places was to the Nature Museum. Amazing place, great for families, I could have spent an entire day there easily, rather than the few hours I had to squeeze in.

Other stops in my travelling life that are part of this initiative include Casa Loma in Toronto, Toronto's Distillery District, and in close proximity (but not an actual visit to) the Nairobi National Museum in Kenya's capital city.

So while I have not been to Ireland, I've been to many places that are helping mark St. Patrick's Day this year.

I guess in some ways, I've been there, if not physically, then certainly in spirit.

Maybe one of these days, I'll even get to go to the Emerald Isle itself.

Until then, I'll just wish you "Top of the mornin' from the bottom of me glass!"

Tuco: it's about an African grey parrot, but also much more

Usually, I write about travel in this space, although that does encompass a broad spectrum of sub-genres.

Today, I'm reviewing a book. Tuco is not a travel book, although the author, Brian Brett, does describe some of his travels in places like British Columbia, Mexico, Thailand, and other destinations in the book.

At some point, paddling is mentioned in the book, although not in a big way.

It's also not a book about the third of the three protagonists in the Sergio Leone 1967 spaghetti western, "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly," played with panache by Eli Wallach. (Although as the author reveals, there is a connection with the movie.)

The book is about the author's relationship with his African grey parrot. It is an excellent read, and you don't have to have lived with a parrot to appreciate it. While Brett's relationship with his African grey is an important part of the book, it's also a springboard for much deeper conversations about the world we live in and the way we relate to it.

Subtitled, The Parrot, the Others and a Scattershot World, A Life with Birds, Brett delves into his relationship not just with Tuco, but with other birds and the world at large. The book actually is a third version of a three-set volume that is a memoir of his life and its struggles, paralleled by the struggles humankind has in the world, struggles to accept others as they are, struggles to prosper without destroying the world - a "scattershot" world as Brett views it - and how they are both reflected in this out-of-place bird's life.

I say out of place, because Brett views Tuco as an "other" of sorts. He himself was an "other," an outsider growing up, because of being born with Kallman syndrome (a condition that causes a form of androgyny) that created huge issues for him as he entered puberty and grew into young adulthood. "Othering" is what we all do to various degrees to anything we see as strange or different. It's othering that often mutates into bullying, something Brett put up with frequently while growing up in British Columbia.

We "other" birds, animals, people of different religions, races, sexual orientations - the list is almost endless.

An African grey parrot, at Bloedel Conservatory.

The theme of othering crops up many times in the narrative as Brett weaves his way through a tapestry of topics that include science, environmentalism, animal cruelty, bird-watching, travel, small-town politics, his early experiences with pet birds, and life with an African grey parrot.

It's all enjoyable to read, but as someone who has spent close to a quarter-century living with African grey parrots, those anecdotes about Tuco's antics were the most enjoyable, the parts I re-read over and over again, sometimes aloud to anyone who would listen (or anyone who would read the passages I posted on my Facebook page regularly while reading the book.) And there were so many of them that reflect and almost eerily parallel the experiences I've had with my greys. For example:

"When a joke is told in our house, Tuco is always the first to laugh, chiming in milliseconds before anyone else. Does he get the joke? Probably not. What he does is even smarter. ... For Tuco, the crucial factor in a joke is not the joke but the way it makes us behave. He measures the speaker's tone and recognizes it's a joke, not a drama or narration of events. Then, if he is in the room, assessing the speaker's inflections and body language, he can anticipate the timing of the punchline faster than any person can, and that's why he always beats us to the laugh."

That happens all the time in our house with my 15-year-old grey, Coco. 

The book is full of passages like that, stories that will have anyone who lives with parrots smiling, and perhaps even chuckling out loud.

Even those who do not live with parrots will find them humorous - and perhaps a bit hard to believe. But believe me, all the stuff he describes in the book about Tuco's behaviour is real. Most parrot keepers have experienced even more bizarre or outrageous behaviours by their feathered companions.

Tuco is one of the rare books that both entertains and informs. It also stimulates thought and introspection about how we view life, how we might deal with some of the issues described in the book.

The author does reach some conclusions, of sorts, and while I won't tell you what they are, some of what I read still percolates around my coffeepot of a brain, occasionally seeping out through its filters into my conscious. 

If you want to read a book that is just silly parrot stories, you might be disappointed. However, if you want to read a book full of those that also deals with some much more serious life issues - like bullying, environmentalism, or dealing with death - then this is a read for you.
 


African grey parrots in the wild. From the World Parrot Trust.

Where does your spirit wander on a journey?

Machu Picchu and the rising sun. (Photo © John Geary)

Swedish author and diplomat Dag Hammarskjold wrote,
"The longest journey
Is the journey inwards
Of him who has chosen his destiny."

The line is a comment about a spiritual journey.

All journeys are journeys of spirit, although how spiritual each one may be depends on where you're travelling, what you're doing, and what you frame of mind is at the time.

If you're visiting a spiritual site, it certainly helps. However, you don't have to be at a "spiritual site" to have an incredibly spiritual experience. I've had plenty of those just walking through a local park, or even sitting watching nature at play.

But I've also had some incredible spiritual experiences while travelling to other countries. And while visiting a spiritual site does not guarantee you'll be "spiritually enlightened," I challenge anyone to not feel some kind of awe or maybe feel just a little bit of "perhaps there's something bigger than me operating in the universe" when you stand at dawn, overlooking the temples and structures of Machu Picchu.

Aside from literally taking your breath away (it's a big of climb up from the parking lot to the site, in very thin air), watching the sun come over the mountains in the east and shining down upon the site will take away the breath of all but the most jaded viewers (who probably wouldn't be there in the first place.)

I was fortunate enough to experience this during a trip with Mountain Lodges of Peru several years ago. No matter what else I get to see in my lifetime, I have a hard time imagining it could be much greater than that (not to say I won't try, mind you!)

Exploring the site, looking far down into the valley below its precipitous sides, dodging one of the wild lamas that call it "home" really does force one to think about, well, everything.

That's a spiritual experience I've enjoyed high up among the clouds.

I've also enjoyed them below sea level.

During a visit to the Big Island of Hawaii, I swam with dolphins.

Spinner dolphin off the Kona Coast, Hawaii.
(Photo © John Geary)

This was not one of those aquarium experiences where tourists get in a pool with tame dolphins not even native to the area; this involved going out into the ocean on a small craft early in the morning, tracking a wild pod of spinner dolphins much like one would when going to see wild gorillas in the African rain forest.

There was a good chance we'd see them, but no guarantee. Our leader led the six of us in a group prayer as we cruised out into the bay.

And we did see them. Then we got into the water with snorkel gear and swam around, never approaching, never touching them, just letting them come to us, if they chose. One swam right up to me underwater, looked at me a bit, then swam away. We even got to see a mother with a newly born baby swimming along beside her. We could hear them communicating with their clicks, whistles, and chirps.

If that's not a spiritual experience, I don't know what is.

Many of my spiritual experiences have involved birds. Every time I see parrots in the wild, as I have in Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, and the Caribbean, it's a spiritual journey. Even seeing wild birds in a local park in B.C. is a spiritual experience for me.

Sandhill crane grooms near Delta, B.C. 

Ditto when I'm paddling. When I dip my paddle repetitively in calm waters while canoeing or kayaking, it becomes zen-like. Padding through the early morning fog of Alberta's Maligne Lake, canoeing in a misty rain and following an eagle in Prince Albert National Park, Saskatchewan, seeing the biggest beaver ever during a desert paddling trip, kayaking down a river while hearing jungle sounds all around in Ecuador - they're all spiritual experiences.

And I cannot even begin to describe the feeling of seeing waterfalls like Mosi oa Tunya ("The Smoke that Thunders") or countless other small wilderness cascades.

Then there was the time I had a "weasel encounter" in Calgary's Fish Creek Provincial Park. Sitting there watching minnows swim around in a feeder stream, I got the distinct feeling something was there, looked over and five feet away sat a weasel, also mesmerized. I jumped a bit, it then jumped, and the spell was broken, but that encounter - and many more in the park I lived five minutes away from - was a great example of spiritual journeys taken close to home.

Ste Anne de Beaupre (Photo © John Geary)

While natural surroundings seem to help me connect spiritually, I've also experienced some moving moments in more urban areas. At the top of that list: the Basilica Ste Anne de Beaupre in Quebec. When I visited there, I could not help but look up in awe at this structure that was too large to capture in a photo, even with a wide angle lens unless I stood back so far as to make the photo unappealing.

Inside, it's not much different. I'm not a huge fan of architecture, but this place is really special. Allow yourself plenty of time to be awed if you visit there.

These are just a sampling of my own spiritual wanderings. There are so many places to visit, so many ways to take spiritual journeys, doing so really is a life-long adventure, an exploration of self and our relation to the Universe.

Let the journeys continue.

Wildlife vacations: it's tough to pick a top 5 - what are yours?

There are numerous reasons for travel.

A silverback gorilla climbs down from
a tree in Kahuzi Biega.

Sometimes, travel takes you to a new job. Other times, we travel just to get away for a while from our jobs, or our routines, to get out of a rut.

Then there are the dream vacations, travel to be pampered in luxury, to de-stress while others look after your every need.

Sometimes we travel to explore - a new place, a new activity, or even to explore ourselves.

I've travelled for all these reasons and more. One of my favourite reasons, my main focus to travel, is see and experience wildlife in its natural settings.

I've been very lucky, I've enjoyed some incredible wildlife experiences around the world. And some, right here in my backyard, in B.C., Alberta, and other parts of Canada.

So in trying to come up with a "top five" out of all my experiences, I was really hard-pressed to keep it to that number. But, here goes, in no particular order (if you think limiting myself to five was hard, try to pick the best of the best!)

• Looking for the "Big Five" on Africa's Serengeti plains. In Serengeti National Park, you may be lucky enough to see a leopard in a tree or listen to the roaring of lions in the bush at night while sleeping in your camp tent. In the Ngorongoro Crater, you'll probably get much closer to some of the wildlife - maybe too close if a rhino charges your jeep or if a lion saunters past and bumps it while you're popped up through the sunroof taking photos. They're only half a day's drive apart, so you'll want to see both when visiting Tanzania. Oh, the other members of the "big five" can also be seen there: Cape buffalo and elephants.

• Gorilla viewing in Central Africa. Hiking through the Congo rainforest, tracking gorillas, avoiding columns of soldier ants, fighting off hordes of disease-carrying Tsetse flies and mosquitoes, keeping your eyes peeled for poisonous snakes, to say nothing of the leopards and other creatures that would like to eat you, stomp you or just plain obliterate you, - if this is your idea of fun, then  you'll be right at home in Kahuzi Biega National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage site in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.  But it'll all be worth it when you get your first glimpse of the silverback patriarch, or see a mother gorilla nursing a baby in the middle of the jungle. (If you've been to the Serengeti, and you're all "Africa'ed-Out," you can enjoy a similar and also incredible wild primate experience viewing orangutans in Borneo.)

It's definitely gator country in the Okefenokee.

• Paddling with alligators in the Okefenokee. Otherwise known as "the swamp," the Okefenokee National Wildlife Reserve in Georgia, U.S.A. offers a wilderness opportunity unlike most others. The reserve is mostly water, so you can only access the heart of it by canoe or kayak. Although you can do it on your own, you're probably safer to hire a licensed outfitter to make sure you don't get lost between the camping platforms placed along the water trails. You do get really close to gators; it's also a great place for birders.

A Grand Cayman parrot, perched in a tree on the Mastic Trail.

• Snorkeling with wild dolphins in Hawaii. I'm not talking about going to see tame dolphins like some of the resorts offer; this experience involves going out onto the ocean several miles offshore, with a reputable tour operator, locating a resident wild pod and then jumping in the ocean and going for a snorkel. You never approach them - they come to you. And when you can hear them echo locating underwater then one comes up to you and looks you over, it's an incredible feeling.

• Gazing at wild parrots in Latin America. I've had the opportunity to experience on several occasions, but my two favourite trips took me to the Heath River Wildlife Centre on the Peru-Bolivia border and on the Mastic Trail on Grand Cayman Island. At Heath River, you sit in a floating blind on the river to watch scores of parrots and macaws congregating on a jungle clay lick. In the Caymans, they're tougher to see, as there is no lick - you have to hike through the jungle and hope you get lucky. In either case, you'll hear them long before you see them.

Missed holidays: just part of doing business

Whenever I tell people what I do for a living, they often express their envy.

It's not ALL fun and games. Especially when deadlines loom.

But that's because they're not really aware of what being a travel writer can involve.

The image at the right gives you an idea of just a few of the misconceptions people have about travel writing.

I won't go into a song-and-dance about the woes of what I do, because I do choose to do it, after all. If I didn't like it, I'd do something else.

However, one aspect many people may overlook is the missed holidays due to travel.

I realize many other jobs crucial to our well-being, involve working holidays. Doctors, nurses, EMT's, firefighters, cops, et al work on holidays. We all owe them our gratitude.

For a travel writer though, it's a bit of a different situation. You're often in a foreign country, days away from your loved ones. And while it's certainly not like being in the armed forces, it can still be a wistful time. Even soldiers, sailors, and pilots have their comrades-in-arms; unless they're in a group press trip, travel writers are more often then not, going solo.

With Good Friday right around the corner, I started to ponder the times I've missed Easter due to being away.

One year, I had to leave the day after Good Friday to fly south, by myself to do a two-week trip in the southern U.S.

Lucky for me, alligators don't take holidays.

Another year, I just got back from a two-week trip padding in the Florida everglades and Fishing in the Keys on Good Friday. At least that one was a shared trip.

Yet another time, I was just returning - alone - from Thailand the day after Good Friday. I guess if you combine this one and the other one to the southern U.S., it counts as one weekend.

And while it's not really a holiday, I have missed several Valentine's Days due to travel... one I was in Calgary for a trip; another time, I was on a train going to Toronto. Yet another time, I was sick as a result of travel, and couldn't celebrate it.

One of the more memorable absences - from a humorous standpoint - occurred because while I was on a trip, I had an opportunity to visit with a friend who used to be a serious girlfriend years ago. We're now friends, of course. (I like to kid about that one, saying, "Well, I spent my Valentine's Day having breakfast with an ex!" Luckily, the Divine Ms. K has a sense of humour about these things!)

I missed both our birthdays at times, once in Wales, another time in Borneo.

Luckily, I've never been away during Christmas or New Year's. I don't think I'd like that much. But if an opportunity comes up that's impossible to turn down, I'll be there.

So what's the point of all this?

A trip to Alberta's southern Rockies took me away
from home one Valentine's Day.

Well, in pondering this, I realize how lucky I am to be in a relationship in which my partner understands and accepts all this (even if my parrots don't!)

Although she has accompanied me on some of my trips to places like Belize, Africa, Ecuador, the Everglades, there are far more trips I take where she stays home and looks after our birds and patiently waits for my return.

So this Easter is more like a spring Thanksgiving for me.

Because while I wouldn't change what I do, when I think back to all the amazing travel experiences I've enjoyed, I'm grateful for that - and for having a partner who supports the kind of vagabond life I sometimes lead.

When you go looking for parrot photos, the birds don't always co-operate

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

Dawn along the Rio Shiripuno.
We heard parrots - we just couldn't see them.

routine.

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!

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.)

National Aviary a birders' - and photographers' - dream

"This place really is for the birds," I thought to myself.

And since it's the National Aviary, that's a good thing.

I spent my final full day spent in Pittsburgh during my late May-early June visit there at the aviary. This place had been on my radar for at least eight years, so when I found out I would be going to Pennsylvania, I had to make sure I could spend some time there.

I ended up opening it up and closing it down my first day there, roaming around, taking photos, watching flying shows and just generally indulging my "bird-brain." I spent half of a second-day there in the company of Kurt Hundgen, director of collections; and Robin Weber, director of marketing.

When I first walked through the doors that led into the "Grasslands" area of the facility, I knew I'd come to the right place.

There, sitting on some tree-like perches were a pair of Congo African grey parrots. They were not unlike my own two CAGs, Nikki and Coco; they were grooming and one of them hammed it up for me, even imitating the beeping noise my camera makes while shooting images and video.

Time for some pelican preening!

The aviary is divided into different "eco-regions," and from the Grasslands I went to the Wetlands area, where a feeding demonstration was in progress with a touring school group. The "swamp" was alive with roseate spoonbills, flamingos, kookaburas, pelicans, a few different kinds of ibis and - heard, but not seen - a screaming piha. (It doesn't really "scream," but this South American rainforest bird does make a very distinctive call.) Several smaller birds also flitted about through the vegetation.

Of course, no aviary experience would be complete without a stop at the penguin pool. In this case, the "African" theme continued, as the penguins who live here are South African penguins. And very playful penguins, they are.

The penguins are ready to "test the waters" once again.

Every time I leaned over the short wall to try to take an unobstructed photo of one of the penguins swimming around, the bird would pop his head up out of the water towards me. It made it really hard to focus! I figured he was either expecting food - or really didn't care to be caught on film by what he might have perceived as the "penguin paparazzi" (me).

From there, it was just a short walk through the cafeteria to the Tropical Rainforest area.

Like the Wetlands, there were numerous small birds flying and flitting around in the area. I also saw a feeding take place, as one of the staff members handed out mealworms for people to hold in their hands for the birds to fly down and scoop up.

Like the Grasslands, though, the main attraction for me was a pair of macaws in a large holding area at one end: a green-winged macaw and a hyacinth macaw.

These two species are not normally found in the same habitat, but these two were obviously very bonded. They played and groomed each other affectionately, making for some great shots and video footage.

In talking with Hundgen and Weber, I learned how the aviary holds regular programs focused on teaching people about the pitfalls of living with parrots as pets. Hundgen is working toward ensuring that visitors perceive the parrots here more as wild creatures in a natural environment than as potential pets, something that can only help both wild and captive parrots.

Although not the same species, these macaw are real pals.

The aviary is a member of Associations of Zoos and Aquariums, so it meets the highest standards of care for its inhabitants. It is involved in the Species Survival Plan to help prevent the loss of rare and endangered species as well as the loss of genetic diversity within those species.

Its programs extend far outside its walls. Scientists from the aviary are involved in field research and conservation programs of international scope, including work aimed at restoring the populations of Andean condors, an iconic vulture of South America.

And speaking of vultures...

A trio of vultures were among the free-flying birds featured in the "Talons!" show that required the purchase of advance tickets, as seats usually fill up quickly. They were joined by an owl, crows, a bald eagle, seagulls, and hawks. Combined with a multi-media presentation, the show displays some of the grace and power of these avians while educating spectators about the birds and ongoing conservation issues in the world.

It's a real crowd-pleaser, for little kids ... and big kids, too.

Like all good programs, the aviary is planning future expansion, both in terms of the infrastructure (parts of the building are more than 60 years old) and programs in and outside the facility.

Even without expansion, the aviary is a real gem in the crown of Pittsburgh attractions, and it was so well worth my time and effort to make sure I had a chance to explore it - and given the presence of parrots in the aviary, it was - coming on the heels of a day spent paddling - the absolutely perfect way to cap off my 12 days in Pennsylvania.

Last Flight spins a cautionary tale about protecting nature

I recently re-read the book, The Last Flight of the Scarlet Macaw: One Woman's Fight to Save the World's Most Beautiful Bird, written by Bruce Barcott, a Seattle-based writer whose works include The Measure of a Mountain: Beauty and Terror on Mount Rainier.

Published in 2008, it recounts the uphill battle of Sharon Matola, director of the Belize Zoo, against Fortis, a Canadian-based company that wanted to, and eventually built, a hydro-electric dam in Belize.

A book about a bird - and much more.

If you live in B.C., you probably recognize that name - it's the same company that supplies natural gas to heat our homes, at least in the Lower Mainland.

The battle took place in the first half of the first decade in this new century. The company proposed a dam across the Macal River that would flood large areas of jungle and essentially destroy habitat vital to rare scarlet macaws as well as jaguars and other wildlife; the area also contained grounds and more than likely artifacts sacred to the Mayan culture.

The book describes how Matola tried to organize resistance, using every legal means necessary to stop the dam. Studies indicated the dam built there would not make that much difference in terms of increasing electric power for the country, but too many people had invested in it to care about unimportant items like, does it really help residents?

I already knew the results of the battle before I read the book, having followed it and published articles about it when I was editor of the Calgary Psittascene, the newsletter of the Calgary Parrot Club from 2001 to 2003. Although Barcott never mentions it in the book, wildlife artist Robert Bateman was very involved in the battle as well, working with Probe International to make people aware of the situation and to create pressure to perhaps stop the dam being built in that particular location.

However, even though I knew the result, I found the book captivating, a real page-turner. It was as full of drama and suspense as any fictional thriller.

And kind of like a horror story, too - a bit scary.

I say scary, because every time it seemed the people working against the dam actually came up with a good argument, legal precedent was somehow gotten around by various means, including greasing the right government or judicial palms or just outright ignoring environmental laws and daring people to do anything about it.

Sounds kind of familiar, doesn't it?

It's a cautionary tale, a reminder to all of us about how we must be on guard against this type of environmental bullying in the name of progress, given some of the issues going on in B.C. right now with respect to the Enbridge situation.

Some of you may be scratching your heads, wondering why I'm writing about this in what is essentially (supposed to be) a travel blog.

A toucan enjoys a pineapple chunk in the Belize Zoo. 

Obviously, it has something to do with parrots...and anyone who read my previous blog post may recall that the very first time I saw parrots was in Belize. But it was also the first time I ever went paddling in a sea kayak. Completing the hat trick of "firsts," it was the first international trip I'd ever taken to anywhere.

That was way back in 1991. That trip really infused me with the idea of becoming a travel writer - a travel writer that tries to help connect people with nature ... through my writing and photos, trying to make a difference in helping preserve our natural environment, worldwide.

It took a while for me to get there, transitioning from being a sports writer, and while you could argue the journey is still continuing, I think you can see, I developed a bit of a soft spot for Belize, and just why I was so disappointed to see a Canadian company engaging in something like this.

I think the next house I purchase will have a fireplace that requires wood (or my preferred alternative, one of those artificial fire logs that burns for four hours) so I don't have to pay any fees to Fortis, a company that, throughout the process, demonstrated that the best interests of the environment were not its priority.

I still have a soft spot for Belize, I have a friend, Nikki Buxton, who is the managing director of the Belize Bird Rescue. I've met other writers who have also been there - some as writers, one as an archaeologist - so I do feel a connection to the place. While I may never return there, I hate to think that all the aspects and qualities that I found so attractive as a traveller are being denigrated by short-sighted governments and businesses.

Of course, this is not the only place in the world where this is happening. It is happening right in our own backyard. Recent cuts to B.C. Ferry services by short-sighted government bureaucrats threatens a very lucrative, viable, and sustainable economic element in the province, that of tourism.

Like Matola, we need to let the government know through letters, petitions, calls to MLAs, emails and social media that this kind of behaviour is not acceptable.

Because as Edmund Burke once stated, "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."



Wild scarlet macaws in Honduras.

Hi-Diddle-Dee-Dee, a travel writers' life for me...

Sooner or later, friends, family, casual acquaintances, just about anyone I meet actually, all get around to asking me one question when they find out I'm a travel writer.

"How did you get to be a travel writer?"

It sometimes takes the form of, "What school did you attend to learn journalism?" Other times, it takes the form of, "Boy, I'd sure like to find out how you got that job!" Sometimes it even comes disguised as a not-so-subtly-veiled hint, "Do you ever need anyone to come along with you on one of your trips?" (the latter because travel writers are often hosted on press tours where the expenses are minimal.)

First of all, I don't think anyone ever sets out to become a travel writer. A writer, yes; a travel and tourism industry professional, of course; a travel agent, maybe. But I don't remember anyone I ever knew in high school or university who set out with the career goal of becoming a travel writer upon graduation. Most of us just fall into it.

And as far as "tagging along" with a travel writer on assignment goes...it's not all pina coladas on the beach and free massages at the spa (although there is a bit of that). A working travel writer often has a tough schedule in order to get to all the destinations, see all the sights that need to be seen in order to meet the demands of the trip itinerary/assignment.

Ready to launch our kayaks and paddle to the cays in Belize.

A travel writer is usually up early, going all day long, and even after the schedule is done for the day, there is often work to do at night - especially these days with social media becoming more and more a part of the picture. That means that not only do you stay up late, going over the days' notes, organizing photos and preparing equipment for the next day's activities, and perhaps journalling about the day's events...now, a writer may also end up writing a blogpost or posting photos and videos on social media.

Opting out of scheduled events is NOT really an option, as it is on a family vacation. If you're on the trip, you have to attend everything. The schedules can be very demanding.

That being said, I cannot imagine myself enjoying any other career as much as this one.

So ... How did I become a travel writer?

First you have to understand how I became a writer. I went to the University of New Brunswick enrolled in a Bachelor of Science-Forestry program. Ever since I was 12, I'd wanted to help conserve our natural resources - forests, lakes, wildlife - and made up my mind to go into forestry. While working as a junior forest ranger in Gogama, Ontario in the summer of 1973, the head foreman told me about UNB. I decided to go there rather than one of the Ontario universities because I wanted to see another part of the country - I wanted an adventure.

The first week at UNB, I made very good friends with Dan Arsenault...he had joined CHSR 700, the on-campus AM student radio station and eventually convinced me to join, too.

I might as well have said good-bye to a forestry career right then, but I tried to combine the two for another two years, eventually giving in to my passion for radio and switching to a degree program that would allow more leisure time for my broadcast interests. Eventually, I worked my way up through the station as program director, then station manager before moving into my true broadcasting love: sports. After leading the station's sports department into the era of FM broadcasting, I got work as a professional freelance sports reporter first at CFNB then CBC Radio in Fredericton while finishing my business degree.

I also began writing sports for the student newspaper, which led to my first full-time in Barrhead, Alberta, after graduating. For the next 15 years, I bounced back and forth between broadcasting and newspaper jobs in Alberta and B.C.

While still working as sports editor for the Alaska Highway News, I took my first international vacation, an ecotour in Belize. It involved paddling sea kayaks for a week, then touring around the jungle in caves, on horseback and at Mayan temples for a week, swimming in underground rivers, seeing wild parrots, finding scorpions in one's shirt --- I loved it!

I went back and wrote up two articles about it for the paper, and I was hooked. This was even more fun than sports-writing.

Fast-forward to 1999: my SO and erstwhile companion the Divine Ms. K. got a killer job in Calgary, and I began my freelance career. Not focused strictly on travel, but a mix of the outdoors, conservation, adventure, food and travel.

Looking at parrots on Grand Cayman Island.

In essence, I'd come full-circle. In many of my articles, I was informing people about the importance of protecting the environment and by sharing many of my travel adventures, I hoped to connect them to nature.

Kind of a convoluted path, but a path none-the-less. And I've travelled on it now for 15 years.

It's helped me enjoy some incredible experiences... seen places in the world I might never have seen, otherwise... I've met some wonderful people that I am still friends with - and I've even made a few bucks along the way.

And it's something I intend to do until they pull the camera and keyboard from my cold, dead fingers.

Your takeaway from this?

No matter what path you're on, no matter what background you come from, no matter what your education background is, if you can write well, or take good photos (better if you can do both) you can be a travel writer.

And remember what T.S. Eliot said: "The journey, not the arrival, matters."

Enjoy your journey.

On assignment: Playing with sharks and rays at the Maui Ocean Centre

Kakapo 'adoption' a great gift option for Christmas

Close your eyes and try to imagine this:

There are only 150 people left in the world.

I know - it's difficult. But try to picture it. Got it? Now hold it...

Now imagine those people live spread out in a wild environment, without any way to travel other than by walking. And imagine they have great difficulty in "hooking up" in order to mate and eventually produce offspring.

It really challenges the mind to think of humans in those terms, since there are 7 billion of us on the planet.

But that may help you empathize with the plight of the kakapo parrot of New Zealand. There are less than 150 of these parrots remaining on the planet. They are on the brink of extinction.

Kakapo parrot (Photo by Kakapo recovery)

They are flightless. They are the heaviest parrot in the world. They are possibly the oldest living bird still on the planet. But the clock is ticking for this bird.

I first learned about the dire situation this bird is in during a Parrot Lover's Cruise. This is a program put together by the World Parrot Trust and Carol Cipriano, a U.S.-based travel agent, that essentially builds a program around existing cruise ship schedules to allow travellers who opt into the tour to see parrots in the wild and attend seminars about parrot conservation and education on board the ship between ports of call.

Being a parrot lover, I was aware of this bird long before I took the cruise - I just had no idea how close it was to extinction before watching "The Unnatural History of the Kakapo" video about it as part of the tour. 

Now our cruise - which was through the Caribbean - did not take us to New Zealand. However, it did take us to several islands where other parrots also face extinction: Puerto Rico, Dominica and Bonaire. All three of those islands currently have ongoing conservation projects to help save the endemic parrot species from extinction. (Not every island stop on our route featured parrots; but on the islands that did not include a parrot element, we used our time to go paddling or hiking, instead).

Any parrot population found on an island - particularly if it is only on one island - is very susceptible to extinction. One bad hurricane, an epidemic of disease, a sudden loss of species-specific habitat, introduction of a predator not native to the area - or a combination of all of them - can decimate a population concentrated in only one spot.

The reasons for its decline to a mere 18 birds in the 1970s is a result of several pressures on the population. The Kakapo Recovery Project consists of a team of dedicated conservationists working to restore the population to a level where it can thrive and exist without coming so close to extinction.

Kakapo plushies. (Photo by Kakapo Recovery)

Like all conservation projects, they require funds. Since it is the season of giving, if you are looking for a different kind of Christmas gift, one that also helps a good cause, you could "adopt" a kakapo. 

Now obviously, you don't physically adopt a bird - but your donation goes toward helping the project continue. 

There are different donation levels, and with each one, part of your "gift" includes a plush stuffed kakapo parrot.

Because it is close to Christmas, they will email donors a certificate of adoption so you can present that to a recipient, since at this point, a plushie may not arrive on time for Dec. 25, depending on where you are, in the world.

If you visit the project's website, you can find other ways to help make it a Merry Christmas for kakapos.