1 February 2006
Isla Cano, Costa Rica"Oh, my goodness!"
"I've never seen water so clear, the color of aquamarine, seafoam, and teal."
"The sea life is way too kwell. I saw Gill,'Finding Nemo' character; really a Moorish Idol."
"Did you see the stylish lime green patches of coral?"
"Did you see the fish poop? Eewwwe, swimming in fish poop"…she quickly halts and pedals her fins backwards. Later Dad remarks, "I think that my extensive scientific analysis after two days and four dives are that the parrot fishes poop the most."Our reactions to snorkeling around Isla Cano were excitement and awe. This National Park lies twelve miles (20 km) west from the Osa Peninsula and Bahia Drake, (pronounced Draw-kay, and yes, Sir Francis Drake is reported to have anchored here. Sorry, you SF people, no plaque here either). Few are able to come due to its proximity off shore and the strict management of the biological reserve by the government. Isla del Cano is known for its archaeological site and marine life. About 740 acres (300 hectares) rise over 360 feet where hiking is via several designated trails. The extent of the marine reserve is about 14,330 acres (5,800 hectares).
We sailed here with our friends on s/v Rdreamz and s/v Soy Libre, anchoring off the ranger station in 50' of water. Pangas and small fishing boats with tourist who arrive from the resorts and wilderness camps in Bahia Drake come for the day, while we three boats and the rangers are the only ones to remain from sunset to sunrise.
The snorkeling was one of the best experiences of our stay in Costa Rica. Coral reefs were the home to dozens of species, most of whom you would recognize as the "stars" of the movie, 'Finding Nemo'. We jumped in with our masks and fins in warm water, exactly as you've seen on Travel magazine covers.
Through the amazing refractions of the clear water, we could see down to depths of twenty and occasionally forty feet. Swimming with schools of grunts, angelfish, scythe butterflyfish, sergeant majors, giant damselfishes, wrasses, parrotfish (both the bicolor, red-lipped parrotfish and the azure parrotfish), purple surgeonfish, archilles tang, iridescent blue/purple fish, and silver fish with neon blue edging, we hardly needed to swim far for entertainment. The rush of the tidal swell kept us attentive and not too hypnotized by the underwater display.
Hanging on the surface, we watched the black and yellow rockfishs, moorish idols, goldrimmed surgeonfishs, guinea fowl puffers, golden puffers, and blue boxfishes feed from the sandy bottom or a coral reef. Often, we could see fish playing "tag".
Individuals reported back their observations of the occasional eel, nurse sharks, triggerfish, reef cornetfish, or hidden in amongst the rocks and reef, lobsters or a giant scallops. Some even swam with a sea turtle. Andy caught a swimming turtle and brought it to the surface to show the whole group, surely briefly traumatizing the turtle. A few minutes later, the turtle was released, safely on the way to deeper water.
Isla del Cano Biological Reserve restricts snorkeling to a zone on the North side, thus leaving the rest of the habitat, and especially the coral reefs to remain relatively untouched by human presence thus, restoring naturally. A Recent El Nino event damaged much of the coral reefs, so there is a need to allow the habitat to regenerate.
When we arrived, we were not sure if we'd be allowed to spend the night at anchor, few do this. And amongst the cruisers, many had bypassed this site, so we had little prior knowledge. For those cruisers coming in future seasons, you should know that the rangers want you to anchor in a restricted zone, essentially in front of the ranger station. They will come and ask you to re-anchor if you are anchored in a place that is not acceptable. We expect that they don't want any damage to the coral. Daily fee is $8/person and $4/boat.
Judy often uses as a reference for our snorkeling experience, her time spent in 1980 in the US Virgin Islands. In 1980, the Caribbean island of St John was already designated three-quarters national park and a Marine Reserve so the waters and sea life were pristine. On a 1-10 scale, Isla Cano rated as an eight, in water clarity, variety of sea life, abundance of sea life, and quality of coral. Clearly, the Costa Rican government's application of strict marine management has helped this site to maintain a rich sea habitat. If anyone had doubts as to the benefits of reserves and habitat management, this is clearly evidence of where it works to have staffs that are well trained and attentive to the habitat. We use as a comparison, the over taxed and thin resource management structure that the Mexican authorities are faced with in the Sea of Cortez where the sea life and quality of the waters is changing dramatically if not diminishing. Or as another example, the sea life aro
und Quepos, Costa Rica, where the fifty years of banana fincas (plantations) and the fertilizers used in the banana industries, has washed off to effectively reduce the sea life diversity in the waters to a few dozen common species. In addition, the flood of tourists and expatriates, has not helped the marine environment as condominiums, timeshares and more developmental pressures for luxury marinas, generates more waste and debri into the sea (evident in Playa Cocos, and Playa Quepos). These are not statements to rashly accuse governments; they have a very difficult challenge to preserve and sustain the quality of their homelands as well as maintain a viable economic base through tourism.Back to Isla del Cano. After snorkeling for four-hours at two locations, we needed lunch and a nap. In the late afternoon, Soy Libre (with their five-year old super hero Spiderman) and Encanto took off up the mountain for a hike to the archeological site. The day-use tourists had returned to their wilderness camps on the Oso Peninsula.
The ranger noted that only his staff and we remained on the island. On this one to two hour hike, he suggested we keep our eyes open for pacas, opossums, boa constrictors, bees, moths, butterflies, beetles, frogs, bats, rats, lizards and ants.
The trail wound around and pass the rangers pay station, kitchen, their laundry, the maintenance area and then straight up the next 200 feet straight up a series of carved out earthen red dirt steps. Through the rainforest we hiked, our eyes and ears alert. Hanging vines cascaded from the trees.
Termite nests, as large as small cars, hung from the trees or lay by the trail. The boys picked and prodded at the fallen nests, perhaps to understand the intricate building structure of mud and goop or to invade this domain of beasts. Boys will be boys!
Animals cawed, crekked and clicked, our unsophisticated ears assumed they were the sounds of birds alerting the jungle to our footsteps. We could see nothing. No birds at flight, no footprints, no evidence of life beyond the plant material. Around every bend, lay stands of bromeliad, orchids, ferns and hardwood trees that filled our lenses, with their beauty and unique photo opportunities. For the most part, the trail was clearly marked and clear of obstacles, occasionally we had to walk over a large fallen tree with a trunk diameter of three feet or over a pile of stones.
As we approached the end of the trail, we had ascended the ridge and then descended to where we came upon several stone spheres placed among mortar and grinding stones, possibly the site of an ancient Indian village. These nearly perfect round spheres are archaeological relics that cannot yet be explained, either their formation or their use to the people. Were these spheres objects for sacred use, culinary use, tools for hunting or building, or game equipment? The girls conjectured that perhaps the 18" diameter spheres, could have been used for rolling over things-a crushing tool, or for the 6" sphere with a board on top, the first wheel form of transporter (skateboard) or perhaps to play an early form of bowling. We are told that there were many of these stone spheres on Isla Cano, however, like many relics, the best and largest (3' diameter) were stolen or taken to private collections or museums.
The shifting lights and shadows suggested we quickly march down the mountain. As always, the hike down was quicker than the ascent and we were back on the beach and at the ranger station in 45 minutes. Our ranger was lying in his hammock with a ready smile and eyes interested in what we had seen or experienced. Using only my limited Spanish, he and I exchanged conversation about our hike and life as a ranger on the island. Five rangers live on the island full time. They are on duty for fifteen days and off for seven days. Only the Soy Libre's had spotted bats and a few butterflies.
Sunset had come and gone with a flash. The ranger helped us with our dinghy, as we were about to launch into the surface. Our large sturdy dinghy on a calm day, with a calm beach landing can easily handle four adults, two pre-teens and a child, but on a day when the swell was pounding and three foot waves rolled into shore, we were challenged to get off without a hitch. And, we didn't make it.
We loaded the dinghy with the backpacks and carried the 250-pound dinghy and outboard the 30-feet to the waters edge. The ranger with the great smile came down to assist. Venturing into the waters, we all knew this would be tricky. Marianne was counting the sets; every adult had a handle, as did Gaby and Sami. Only tough little Andrew was wading in the water nearby, ready on a moments call to jump into the dinghy. We wade out. John yells, "All women and short people get in." Sami and Marianne climb in, Andrew heaves himself in and with all my lack of grace and charm, I am pulled aboard. I hear John start the outboard. Marianne is still counting the sets. I hear her say, "wait, another one is coming", but before anyone can react, this huge wave engulfs us and raises the dinghy. For a brief moment we are between a surf and a swamp. Rushing around, everyone gets out of the dinghy, we are reaching for backpacks, and the ranger is fully in the water, hauling the dinghy with Andy and John back to shore. Marianne has Andrew in her arms as he bravely tries to regain his composure. Sami and Gaby are grabbing backpacks and running through the waters to the safety of shore. The ranger looks at me and says, "En las cocina, es una paleta. Trae." I understood. I ran back to the ranger station, up the six porch steps and into the ranger's quarters. Another ranger and a volunteer from Japan were making their dinner when they stopped to find me a bucket. Our dinghy had filled with rocks, pebbles and water, nearly to the top.
Back on s/v Rdreamz, Pam became worried that she had not seen her buddy boaters return from their hike. After the morning snorkel, Rdreamz had decided to stay on their boat and enjoy the afternoon aboard. At sunset, Pam took her binoculars to look for us. She watched as she saw us on the beach, board the dinghy and then suddenly, we were back on the beach and people were scurrying. Pam calls down to Royce. "I think something is wrong. They might need help." Royce interrupted his concentration and focus. Our need would delay his ability to take over the Empire, in order to drop their dinghy down from the davits and high tailed it quickly to the shore and become the Savor of the Night. On approach, Royce realized that he couldn't get to the beach or his dinghy would be swamped. So, through the breaking waves he yelled, "Send me the children." With Gaby and Sami holding Andrew's hands, the three brave children wadded out until they could find an opening in the waves. Gaby later described it as, " an opening that was low enough for them to swim through without being pulled back by the surf." We watched as they all swam through the waves and to Royce. Like a 007 scene, all the cruising savvy kids climbed aboard Rdreamz's dinghy and Royce roared off with them to the safety of s/v Encanto.
The Ranger was horrified that we had allowed the children to head out. He was concern with the undertow and kept repeating to us, "Es muy peligroso." "It is very dangerous." But nightfall continued to descend, the waves continued to build. We had no time to hesitate or second-guess the decisions being made.
Royce returned to find that we had bailed the dinghy and we were attempting another departure. He watched as we walked the dinghy back down to shore. Marianne counted the sets. And then I heard, "Let's go." Instinctively, we waded out, climbed aboard and prayed that the outboard would start. John pulled the cord. The ranger stood, waist high in water, steadily holding the dinghy while John pulled the cord, again. On the third try, the welcome sound of " vroom, vroom" was sweetness to our ears. We bid farewell and "Gracias" to the Ranger, as we watched him, drenched to the bones, trudge up the beach to his dinner. Weeks later, Judy was to see this same ranger at the "Free zone" in Golfito.
Reaching s/v Encanto, we found the girls had started the heater for warm showers, a kettle of hot water brew for hot chocolate and they had calmed Andrew and reminded him that only a "super hero" would have had the bravery that he showed to battle the surf and the waves.
Safe, warm aboard our boats, we enjoyed yet another lovely star-filled warm night in Costa Rica. It was quite the day. We have ordinary days, but this was one to be remembered for it's thrill, delight and shared love for, "The Adventure" and the unknown of what will come "Manana".