Rainforest Diaries: An Immersive Amazon Experience
Chapter 3 - Manu Learning Centre, CREES & Villa Carmen Biological Station, ACCA
April 15, 2017
If I had hackles like a dog, they would be standing on end. I feel so alert that it makes my scalp tingle. I’m walking briskly down a trail near Villa Carmen to retrieve one of the camera traps that I’ve left up for the several weeks while I was away. When you fetch a camera trap alone in the dark, that you’ve purposely left up to capture a resident jaguar, you can’t help but be a little anxious. As I walk loudly small rodents and frogs jump out of my path. I want anything around to hear me before I see it.
Will is finished leaving gear in the laboratory when I get back to camp. We hop in the car and rumbled down the road back to Pilcopata where we are spending the night. When I check the card at our hostel, the camera trap has captured a rabbit who lives nearby and arrives every night for a photoshoot. But then finally towards the end of the take, I see my beautiful jaguar. He/she is sleek and graceful, facing away from the camera smelling the night air. Glorious.
If I had hackles like a dog, they would be standing on end. I feel so alert that it makes my scalp tingle. I’m walking briskly down a trail near Villa Carmen to retrieve one of the camera traps that I’ve left up for the several weeks while I was away. When you fetch a camera trap alone in the dark, that you’ve purposely left up to capture a resident jaguar, you can’t help but be a little anxious. As I walk loudly small rodents and frogs jump out of my path. I want anything around to hear me before I see it.
Will is finished leaving gear in the laboratory when I get back to camp. We hop in the car and rumbled down the road back to Pilcopata where we are spending the night. When I check the card at our hostel, the camera trap has captured a rabbit who lives nearby and arrives every night for a photoshoot. But then finally towards the end of the take, I see my beautiful jaguar. He/she is sleek and graceful, facing away from the camera smelling the night air. Glorious.
April 16, 2017
It’s Easter and we wake up to church bells and gun shots fired over town to call the Pilcopata community to mass. Will, Hillary and a group of six students and I pile into a van and drive to Atalaya where we board a boat to Manu Learning Centre (MLC). We will be spending eight days here conducting night monkey research.
Only a few minutes into the boat ride Will spots a strange yellowish-red animal stalking across the beach. It moves its lanky body in a crouching walk. We watch as the animal greets another individual, this one black, that has walked out of the forest. They touch noses like house cats and then turn and walk back in the forest together. When I pull up the images I snapped with my telephoto lens we discover they are two jaguarundis. My first ever jungle cats.
Later in the morning at MLC we chase a large group of capuchin and squirrel monkeys who are traveling together on one of the trails. We spend an hour photographing and admiring them. One of the students tears up at the emotion of the sight.
That night we locate our first night monkey group near a nesting site Will and I had found on our previous visit to MLC. We watch as they launch themselves between thin branches. This family of five is the biggest group we’ve ever encountered.
It’s Easter and we wake up to church bells and gun shots fired over town to call the Pilcopata community to mass. Will, Hillary and a group of six students and I pile into a van and drive to Atalaya where we board a boat to Manu Learning Centre (MLC). We will be spending eight days here conducting night monkey research.
Only a few minutes into the boat ride Will spots a strange yellowish-red animal stalking across the beach. It moves its lanky body in a crouching walk. We watch as the animal greets another individual, this one black, that has walked out of the forest. They touch noses like house cats and then turn and walk back in the forest together. When I pull up the images I snapped with my telephoto lens we discover they are two jaguarundis. My first ever jungle cats.
Later in the morning at MLC we chase a large group of capuchin and squirrel monkeys who are traveling together on one of the trails. We spend an hour photographing and admiring them. One of the students tears up at the emotion of the sight.
That night we locate our first night monkey group near a nesting site Will and I had found on our previous visit to MLC. We watch as they launch themselves between thin branches. This family of five is the biggest group we’ve ever encountered.
Moments in the field looking for night monkeys and then processing samples in the lab at MLC.
April 17, 2017
5:00 AM comes too early, but we hit the trails hoping to catch more night monkey groups returning to their nests to sleep. Sure enough just a few meters down the trail we find a second group. What luck, two groups in under 24 hours!
I set my camera trap up later on another trail. A CREES intern I met previously gave me a location tip just 500 meters down the trail from camp. I leave the trap on video and try to temper my expectations as I walk back to camp. I spend the rest of the morning filming and photographing hummingbirds, many are new species that I've never encountered before.
Rain keeps us indoors for the night. The students, Will and Hillary work by candlelight in the open laboratory and I am reminded of archival photos of camps of early South American explorers. The orange glow makes the scene nostalgically romantic. Well it does to me anyway, the photographer, not sifting through night monkey fecal samples to look for seeds.
April 18, 2017
We are looking for night monkeys on another dawn hike when Will and I hear howler monkeys calling in the distance. We change plans and rush with the students to try to locate them. We get close enough to record their calls but can’t quite see the tree where they are perched. Will and several students walk quietly up the trail and happen upon a tapir. The giant herbivore crashes into the nearby stream and disappears. It’s a super rare sight and despite having seen one before, I am tinged with jealously; but you can’t really be selfish with wildlife sightings, can you?
Early afternoon we start out on a long hike to (near) primary forest where we hope to find a group of night monkeys that have been spotted on a ridge at the end of the CREES property. Along the way we see Pale-winged trumpeters filing past on the trail. The large black ground birds with white rumps even come with their own jungle legend. They are also indicators of healthy forest, a comforting sight indeed. We also see two Channel-billed toucans perched high in the canopy making raucous calls.
5:00 AM comes too early, but we hit the trails hoping to catch more night monkey groups returning to their nests to sleep. Sure enough just a few meters down the trail we find a second group. What luck, two groups in under 24 hours!
I set my camera trap up later on another trail. A CREES intern I met previously gave me a location tip just 500 meters down the trail from camp. I leave the trap on video and try to temper my expectations as I walk back to camp. I spend the rest of the morning filming and photographing hummingbirds, many are new species that I've never encountered before.
Rain keeps us indoors for the night. The students, Will and Hillary work by candlelight in the open laboratory and I am reminded of archival photos of camps of early South American explorers. The orange glow makes the scene nostalgically romantic. Well it does to me anyway, the photographer, not sifting through night monkey fecal samples to look for seeds.
April 18, 2017
We are looking for night monkeys on another dawn hike when Will and I hear howler monkeys calling in the distance. We change plans and rush with the students to try to locate them. We get close enough to record their calls but can’t quite see the tree where they are perched. Will and several students walk quietly up the trail and happen upon a tapir. The giant herbivore crashes into the nearby stream and disappears. It’s a super rare sight and despite having seen one before, I am tinged with jealously; but you can’t really be selfish with wildlife sightings, can you?
Early afternoon we start out on a long hike to (near) primary forest where we hope to find a group of night monkeys that have been spotted on a ridge at the end of the CREES property. Along the way we see Pale-winged trumpeters filing past on the trail. The large black ground birds with white rumps even come with their own jungle legend. They are also indicators of healthy forest, a comforting sight indeed. We also see two Channel-billed toucans perched high in the canopy making raucous calls.
Check out a 360 video of jungle stream deep in the forest.
April 19, 2017
After a languid morning of coffee, ingesting photos and writing, Will and I wander down a trail filming and recording as we go. I also switch cards in my camera trap to make sure it is firing properly.
At first when I’m back at the station, I can’t get the video files to play. Some of them seem to just be static, and I realize I've angled the camera too low. But then they are working and suddenly this glorious beast of a jaguar emerges. It appears immediately in the frame, smells the camera and saunters off. I am so moved by the intimacy of the moment and I watch the video on repeat, as do the students when I show them. This is the camera trap video I have always wanted.
Later the resident three-toed sloth, Gavina, shows up on campus. She sways in a cecropia tree obscured by the leaves. We spend a long time admiring her the rest of the week, especially when she scratches her head with her long three-toed claws.
After a languid morning of coffee, ingesting photos and writing, Will and I wander down a trail filming and recording as we go. I also switch cards in my camera trap to make sure it is firing properly.
At first when I’m back at the station, I can’t get the video files to play. Some of them seem to just be static, and I realize I've angled the camera too low. But then they are working and suddenly this glorious beast of a jaguar emerges. It appears immediately in the frame, smells the camera and saunters off. I am so moved by the intimacy of the moment and I watch the video on repeat, as do the students when I show them. This is the camera trap video I have always wanted.
Later the resident three-toed sloth, Gavina, shows up on campus. She sways in a cecropia tree obscured by the leaves. We spend a long time admiring her the rest of the week, especially when she scratches her head with her long three-toed claws.
Camera Trap Footage of a Jaguar at Manu Learning Centre
April 21, 2017
I wake up early to get a solo hike in before breakfast. Last night two people saw a puma on the same trail I captured my jaguar video, so I am full of expectation. There is a light rain and I walk so carefully. This could be the perfect conditions to see wildlife and yet…I see absolutely nothing. Not even a bird. But some mornings are just like that; perfect conditions do not always yield wildlife. There is a bit of random luck.
I decide to hike up to trail 6 near primary forest to film. Four hours round trip will be my longest solo hike in the jungle yet. The hike starts with three groups of Titi monkeys calling out to each other. Their call is a whooping bird-like sound that I’ve only recently begun to identify properly.
I am about to cross a small stream when I slip on a large wet rock and bang my knee. As I fall I hear the sickening shatter of glass as my camera clatters to the ground, but then in deep relief realize it is only the filter that has broken. The lens and camera remain intact.
I carefully perform lens surgery on the rock beach, removing the glass left intact around the ring of filter. Sometimes moments in the jungle are so unglamorous and I feel like a hot, clumsy, muddy mess.
Just after I reach primary forest, I come across the Pale-winged trumpeters performing their beautiful walk. They are enraptured by a swarm of tiny ants and barely notice me as I begin to photograph them from behind a fallen log. It’s amazing to observe wildlife when they seem unpreturbed by your presence. A tinamou, another ground bird, skirts by me and I watch a small rodent walk by the trumpeters. If feels like a small window into what animals’ lives are like when humans aren’t present.
After I am done filming and descend the ridge at the far end of the trail, I hear the familiar high treetop crash of monkeys. They are soaring through the trees and I quickly try to follow them along the trail. At first by their speed I think they must be long-limbed Spider monkeys but finally I catch up to them just off to trail and discover it is a large troup of Woolly monkeys. These thick-furred, stocky primates look like small apes. I’m taking photos of one monkey as it drapes itself causally over a branch when I suddenly realize I am being closely observed by another individual who has moved to a tree above me. They also seem undistressed by my presence (perhaps accustomed to human researchers following them) and so we hang out too, observing one another with polite curiosity.
Suddenly the monkeys and I hear and then watch as a wall of rain overtakes us. I quickly run back to my backpack to cover my gear and put on a rain jacket. I need to hike fast if I am to ford one of the streams that rises quickly in the rain. I am drenched by the time I get back to campus but I feel so good and light after such an amazing hike.
I am tired and have low expectations for an evening hike in search of night monkeys, but three of us set out on trail 9. In a matter of an hour I’ve located two new groups. I guess Will has trained me well. I used to be scared of monkeys before we moved to Peru and now I’ve even learned to locate them in the dark.
I wake up early to get a solo hike in before breakfast. Last night two people saw a puma on the same trail I captured my jaguar video, so I am full of expectation. There is a light rain and I walk so carefully. This could be the perfect conditions to see wildlife and yet…I see absolutely nothing. Not even a bird. But some mornings are just like that; perfect conditions do not always yield wildlife. There is a bit of random luck.
I decide to hike up to trail 6 near primary forest to film. Four hours round trip will be my longest solo hike in the jungle yet. The hike starts with three groups of Titi monkeys calling out to each other. Their call is a whooping bird-like sound that I’ve only recently begun to identify properly.
I am about to cross a small stream when I slip on a large wet rock and bang my knee. As I fall I hear the sickening shatter of glass as my camera clatters to the ground, but then in deep relief realize it is only the filter that has broken. The lens and camera remain intact.
I carefully perform lens surgery on the rock beach, removing the glass left intact around the ring of filter. Sometimes moments in the jungle are so unglamorous and I feel like a hot, clumsy, muddy mess.
Just after I reach primary forest, I come across the Pale-winged trumpeters performing their beautiful walk. They are enraptured by a swarm of tiny ants and barely notice me as I begin to photograph them from behind a fallen log. It’s amazing to observe wildlife when they seem unpreturbed by your presence. A tinamou, another ground bird, skirts by me and I watch a small rodent walk by the trumpeters. If feels like a small window into what animals’ lives are like when humans aren’t present.
After I am done filming and descend the ridge at the far end of the trail, I hear the familiar high treetop crash of monkeys. They are soaring through the trees and I quickly try to follow them along the trail. At first by their speed I think they must be long-limbed Spider monkeys but finally I catch up to them just off to trail and discover it is a large troup of Woolly monkeys. These thick-furred, stocky primates look like small apes. I’m taking photos of one monkey as it drapes itself causally over a branch when I suddenly realize I am being closely observed by another individual who has moved to a tree above me. They also seem undistressed by my presence (perhaps accustomed to human researchers following them) and so we hang out too, observing one another with polite curiosity.
Suddenly the monkeys and I hear and then watch as a wall of rain overtakes us. I quickly run back to my backpack to cover my gear and put on a rain jacket. I need to hike fast if I am to ford one of the streams that rises quickly in the rain. I am drenched by the time I get back to campus but I feel so good and light after such an amazing hike.
I am tired and have low expectations for an evening hike in search of night monkeys, but three of us set out on trail 9. In a matter of an hour I’ve located two new groups. I guess Will has trained me well. I used to be scared of monkeys before we moved to Peru and now I’ve even learned to locate them in the dark.
April 22, 2017
It’s Earth Day and I celebrate by accompanying CREES interns and volunteers to monitor the clay lick for macaws and parrots. We take the boat to a nearby island at daybreak where we were can count them from a safe distance as they fly across the river.
After breakfast we paint our faces with mud, chocolate and flowers to partake in our own Scientists’ March. We chant together as we hike up to the mirador. It feels good to participate in such a meaningful effort, even from our small corner of the world.
Will and l later hike up to trail 7 in search of big trees. We’ve been told there are two mighty strangler figs and I am excited to see them. Along the way we see another group of Pale-winged trumpeters and spend some time with them as they cross back and front on the trail.
The enormous strangler figs do not disappoint. They are so massive and beautiful that they leave me feeling emotional. I walk around them in gaping in awe. The golden hour comes early through the rainforest canopy and glorious yellow light seems to make the trees glow.
It's hard to believe strangler figs are actually parasites. They grow when birds eat their seeds and deposit them from high branches of old trees, growing downwards like vines and surrounding the other tree until it completely suffocates it, leaving only the hollowed out structure of the strangler fig to stand in its place.
April 23, 2017
It is our last full day at MLC and to say goodbye, the MLC staff have put together a short slideshow of our time at their station. I will miss this collaborative, industrious community dedicated to learning and protecting the Amazon.
It’s Earth Day and I celebrate by accompanying CREES interns and volunteers to monitor the clay lick for macaws and parrots. We take the boat to a nearby island at daybreak where we were can count them from a safe distance as they fly across the river.
After breakfast we paint our faces with mud, chocolate and flowers to partake in our own Scientists’ March. We chant together as we hike up to the mirador. It feels good to participate in such a meaningful effort, even from our small corner of the world.
Will and l later hike up to trail 7 in search of big trees. We’ve been told there are two mighty strangler figs and I am excited to see them. Along the way we see another group of Pale-winged trumpeters and spend some time with them as they cross back and front on the trail.
The enormous strangler figs do not disappoint. They are so massive and beautiful that they leave me feeling emotional. I walk around them in gaping in awe. The golden hour comes early through the rainforest canopy and glorious yellow light seems to make the trees glow.
It's hard to believe strangler figs are actually parasites. They grow when birds eat their seeds and deposit them from high branches of old trees, growing downwards like vines and surrounding the other tree until it completely suffocates it, leaving only the hollowed out structure of the strangler fig to stand in its place.
April 23, 2017
It is our last full day at MLC and to say goodbye, the MLC staff have put together a short slideshow of our time at their station. I will miss this collaborative, industrious community dedicated to learning and protecting the Amazon.
April 24, 2017
We are leaving MLC today and the morning is filled with goodbyes and group pictures. We take the boat and then car back to Villa Carmen where we will be for the next four days to conduct more research. We are all tired but happy to be “home” for a few days and be able to wash clothes and use the internet.
However, when we arrive we discover the power is out in the valley and we must make use of the few hours the generator runs each day at the station and checking the internet will have to wait a few more days.
We have delicious pineapple cake to celebrate one of the student's birthday. The other students and staff staying in town join us for a loud reunion. There is a lot of bragging as the students’ groups try to one-up-one another. We have a pretty impressive wildlife sighting list to recount.
We are leaving MLC today and the morning is filled with goodbyes and group pictures. We take the boat and then car back to Villa Carmen where we will be for the next four days to conduct more research. We are all tired but happy to be “home” for a few days and be able to wash clothes and use the internet.
However, when we arrive we discover the power is out in the valley and we must make use of the few hours the generator runs each day at the station and checking the internet will have to wait a few more days.
We have delicious pineapple cake to celebrate one of the student's birthday. The other students and staff staying in town join us for a loud reunion. There is a lot of bragging as the students’ groups try to one-up-one another. We have a pretty impressive wildlife sighting list to recount.
April 27, 2017
The morning is cool and a rainstorm seems inevitable today as clouds hang low over Villa Carmen. Today is one of my last days in the jungle and I’m anxious to retrieve my camera trap that I left a month ago in a dip on trail 9 (the steep one). As I hike, macaws and parrots keep me company from tree tops, dropping fruit as they eat and chatter. This section of forest with its tall trees cloaked in mist is magical.
I make my way to the small mirador and watch as waves of clouds move through the space obscuring and then revealing the bluish-green mountains and the confluence of rivers below. I spend time filming, attaching the 360 camera to trees hoping to relay the experience of this special scene.
As I sit and spend a few more moments absorbing this place, a mixed flock of birds flit between branches above me. I start photographing them and identify stunning Paradise tanagers, and even a Masked tanager, a new bird for me.
Finally, I wind my way down from the mirador to the dip to discover what wildlife my camera trap has seen over the past couple of weeks. I’m relieved that that the batteries are still working and it appears to fire as I approach. I can hardly wait to hike back to the station to see what images will emerge.
When I pass by the mirador again, the wind has picked up and thunder rumbles nearby. I quickly cover my backpack and pull out my rain jacket and as I descend the trail the rain arrives refreshing and clean. Halfway down the trail I hear the familiar whimper of capuchin monkeys. One large fellow eyes me warily before disappearing, all the while calling to his troupe.
Later when I put the camera trap card into the computer, I am swept away with pictures of a jaguar, margay, puma, jagarundi, paca, agouti, opossum and giant armadillo. While I hope one day to see some of the animals in person, it is enough to know they are out there, walking these same trails, protected and safe for now.
The morning is cool and a rainstorm seems inevitable today as clouds hang low over Villa Carmen. Today is one of my last days in the jungle and I’m anxious to retrieve my camera trap that I left a month ago in a dip on trail 9 (the steep one). As I hike, macaws and parrots keep me company from tree tops, dropping fruit as they eat and chatter. This section of forest with its tall trees cloaked in mist is magical.
I make my way to the small mirador and watch as waves of clouds move through the space obscuring and then revealing the bluish-green mountains and the confluence of rivers below. I spend time filming, attaching the 360 camera to trees hoping to relay the experience of this special scene.
As I sit and spend a few more moments absorbing this place, a mixed flock of birds flit between branches above me. I start photographing them and identify stunning Paradise tanagers, and even a Masked tanager, a new bird for me.
Finally, I wind my way down from the mirador to the dip to discover what wildlife my camera trap has seen over the past couple of weeks. I’m relieved that that the batteries are still working and it appears to fire as I approach. I can hardly wait to hike back to the station to see what images will emerge.
When I pass by the mirador again, the wind has picked up and thunder rumbles nearby. I quickly cover my backpack and pull out my rain jacket and as I descend the trail the rain arrives refreshing and clean. Halfway down the trail I hear the familiar whimper of capuchin monkeys. One large fellow eyes me warily before disappearing, all the while calling to his troupe.
Later when I put the camera trap card into the computer, I am swept away with pictures of a jaguar, margay, puma, jagarundi, paca, agouti, opossum and giant armadillo. While I hope one day to see some of the animals in person, it is enough to know they are out there, walking these same trails, protected and safe for now.
Camera Trap Images captured at Villa Carmen Biological Station.
April 28, 2017
On our last morning in the rainforest, I walk out to trail 6 to pick up my other camera trap and retrieve a night monkey sample net. I startle a small herd of peccaries (wild pigs) in the nearby forest. They bark and crash through the woods with their solids forms. It is nice to finally see these creatures after three weeks of looking for them. They have been a constant on my hikes through these trails, but have not chosen to reveal themselves this year until just now. Somehow this feels like closure, a complete loop.
“No one will protect what they don’t care about; and no one will care about what they have not experienced.” I recently heard this quote by David Attenborough and it has given my purpose in the Amazon new shape. Every day in the rainforest I am so moved by the experience that it makes me want to strive harder to recreate it for others. I hope that I can successfully relay some of this powerful jungle magic through images and make others care more and fight harder for this continued existence of this magnificent and extraordinary place.
On our last morning in the rainforest, I walk out to trail 6 to pick up my other camera trap and retrieve a night monkey sample net. I startle a small herd of peccaries (wild pigs) in the nearby forest. They bark and crash through the woods with their solids forms. It is nice to finally see these creatures after three weeks of looking for them. They have been a constant on my hikes through these trails, but have not chosen to reveal themselves this year until just now. Somehow this feels like closure, a complete loop.
“No one will protect what they don’t care about; and no one will care about what they have not experienced.” I recently heard this quote by David Attenborough and it has given my purpose in the Amazon new shape. Every day in the rainforest I am so moved by the experience that it makes me want to strive harder to recreate it for others. I hope that I can successfully relay some of this powerful jungle magic through images and make others care more and fight harder for this continued existence of this magnificent and extraordinary place.
Special thanks to Manu Learning Centre, Villa Carmen Biological Station and Nikon! Nikon Key Mission camera provided
by Nikon Inc., Melville, New York.
© 2018 Jessica Suarez, All Rights Reserved
by Nikon Inc., Melville, New York.
© 2018 Jessica Suarez, All Rights Reserved