Santa Rosa Reserve
Bahia Santa Elena, Costa Rica13 November2005
Arriving in the Bahia, we inherited the knowledge of the place. Passed from cruiser to cruiser the word is shared of the location of a waterfall and pond for swimming, a fresh water creek where laundry can be done, the best spots for diving and snorkeling. Before they departed for the next anchorage, George and Jan, on s/v Claire de Lune, took John and Gaby over to the entrance to the route that would lead us through the jungle and up the hills to a fresh water creek and pond. As George said, on the west side of the Bahia, the opening is marked by a white log, then walk up the muddy road until it ends, take a left and follow the four-wheel drive tracks pass three creeks. At the third creek, take a right, walk all the way up, through the creek, for forty-five minutes, until you get to the fresh water pond and you’ll see an eight-foot tall waterfall. In addition, our friends on s/v Carina had passed on to the entire Southbound net their directions and experience (even little fish nibbling on them). How could we go wrong? Not only that but we had four cruisers who lived and sailed down from Alaska and you know; those Alaskan’s, they are mighty find trackers in any kind of forest.
We landed on the shore through clear green waters. On the shore were hundreds of hermit crabs. I think Gaby, Sami and little Andrew (5, aboard s/v Soy Libre) would have been content to stay on shore and have hermit crab races, but the rest of us, after several days of passage and living for six months in an estuary where the water was brown and not safe for swimming in; we wanted to get where the waters were clean and pristine.
The path was just as described. The air temperature was perfect, the light dappled, and the markers, all there, just as reported. We were chatty and observant naturalists. That’s a bit of an oxymoron. We followed the flights of the several colorful dragon flies, damsel flies, yellow, white and blue butterflies, passing the tiny purple, pink, orange, yellow and white wildflowers (owl clovers, pink morning glory, then passing hardwood second growth trees and some massive large trees with strangling fig vines hanging down.
The Alaskans (cruisers on s/v Alaskason and s/v Moonsong) were stopping often, at times, every ten feet, in the muddy road and identifying tracks of cows, deer, coati (member of raccoon family), coyote, and a cat. It was a great set of people. Little Andy, Marianne, Andy and I would follow behind Dawn, Nola and Christopher, learning as much as we could from them. While Sami, Gaby, Jerry and John forged ahead. When we saw the cat tracks there was quite the debate as to whether it was a cat or some other animal. Was it a Jaguarundi, Ocelot, Puma, or Margay? We would note these tracks, but it wasn’t until the return trip that the tracks of the cats became more prominent. Christopher, Dawn and Nola were convinced that the tracks were fresh and had appeared since we had passed on the road only a few hours before. The tracks were clearly a cat, claws out, running quickly. Had we startled a cat as we walked to the creek? We all walked looking up, as the cats are agile climbers and arboreal neotropical cats. Both ocelots and margay sleep in trees and nest in hollows. Both tend to be nocturnal and solitary so seeing fresh tracks was surprising. And then there was the possibility of the track being from a Kinkajou. Kinkajou’s have a face like a cat, but a body like a raccoon without the mask, and a bit monkey with a very long tail that they use to hang from trees.
We trekked on, up the fresh water creek. The water temperature was very, very pleasant and the flow of the creek and vegetation reminded Gaby of Willowbrook Creek, behind my parent’s home in Portola Valley. She longs to visit her grandparents and cousins and the sentimental reminder was bittersweet.
The creek bed was made of sand, gravel, and boulders, extending a width of about 25’ wide and a depth from a few inches to three feet. For short Judy, she plodded along in a steady pace, wet pants and bamboo walking stick, while the children found that swimming through the deeper parts, the best way to navigate the creek. The river-like flow, made it useful to have a firm walking cane(s) to steady oneself, as it was easy to slip on mossy rocks or turbulent fast moving sections of uneven rocks.
The tree line and shrub canopy came to the edge and hung overhead provided, a delightful dappled quality to the light. The deciduous forest was composed of many unfamiliar species, but we were able to go back to the boat and later identify the Gumbo limbo (Bursera simaruba), Shoemaker’s Tree (Byrsonima crassifolia), Chicle Tree (Manilkara zapota—original source of chewing gum, chiclets gum), Stinking Toe (Hymenaea courbaril) and of course, the Mahogany tree (Swietenia macrophylla and Swietenia humilis). A few plants we recognized, like the plumerias, lantana, bamboo, bromeliads, orchids, and ferns. The soil layer was very thin, plant material growing on bedrock composite of volcanic debris, granite and sedimentary rock.
Due to our noisy presence, we scared all of the creek side wildlife away, although evidence of weaverbird nests hung from the trees of the thorny branches like weepy sacs. We learned that the nests are purposely located on the end of a branch of a thorny tree so as to protect the young and eggs from being devoured by the monkeys. Occasionally, damsel flies, dragonflies or butterflies (e.g. cabbage cream, large yellow and black striped or iridescent blue) would dance overhead.
We noticed small red trumpet flowers that hold nectar for hummingbirds and bees. Termite nest lay in the crotch of the trees. And ants patrolled the branches and were another good reason to have a walking stick, so you didn’t accidentally grab a branch and suddenly find yourself with twenty or more tiny ant bites from your brief encounter. And as we walked up the stream, in the still water, we were enchanted to watch the large, black with white markings, flat-water spiders, as they seemed to skimmer along the water surface.
Finally, we reached the small fresh water pool and eight foot tall waterfall. Like a scene out of a classic jungle movie, the bromeliads and epiphytes hung from thin branches, water glistened from sheer granite walls, and the water a clear emerald green color. Immediately, Sami climbed up the sheer rock face and then jumped into the pool from the waterfall. The depth of the pond was about 10’ the men who followed Sami, mentioned that they touched the bottom.
Several of us climbed up the rock face and wandered along the next waterway to another smaller waterfall. We stopped and congregated when we spotted a set of vertical green, tongue depressor-like, shaped plants, perched in a soldierly row on a tree branch. One stalk had a delicate single lime cream cup, the flower, 1 ½” orchid bloom attached to it. Since we had left all cameras at the pond, this lovely bit of natural wild beauty would have to just remain recorded in our memories.
We returned to the pool, swam and enjoyed our picnic lunch. The near perfect conditions beckoned us to come again, and we would, as Sami has chosen to come here for her birthday event.