Leaving Ourselves Behind

Actually the beauty of Drake Bay, on the wild Osa Peninsula, is far from elusive. It is wild, dangerous, dramatic, difficult to access and still largely undeveloped. Jungle creeps right down to largely uninhabited black beaches and rocky outcroppings, thundering waves crash to shore – this area in the southern part of Costa Rica, is home to just 12,000 people, but houses over 3% of the planet’s biodiversity, spread over 41,800 acres.

These were the mind-blowing facts that attracted us to the place. We figured we would be tripping over toucans without the annoyance of sharing the trails with busloads of fellow tourists. And that’s not wrong. But… the elusive part of Drake Bay is that even though the jungles are teeming with wildlife, they can be hard to spot.

To begin at the beginning, one has three ways of arriving in Drake Bay – by plane, by car or by boat. Until very recently, the road from Sierpe to Drake Bay was a pot-holed horror that required three hours of infinite patience and a 4×4 to navigate three rivers. The potholes, patience and time are still there, but the rivers now have bridges. Our option was to take a one-hour boat ride from Sierpe, up the river and through the mangroves.

As we left the river to enter the Pacific, we were met with the high waves of an incoming tide and it took considerable skill on the part of our captain to maneuver the heights and troughs, until he moved us past the wave break and out towards town.

There is no dock in Drake Bay (nor is there a dock anywhere else), so every boat entry and exit involves stepping down into a foot or so of water. Depending upon the tide, this can be easy, or it can be hard. All part of the adventure. Pura vida.

Drake Bay is a small village, with a couple of grocery stores, a few restaurants, a number of hotels and an even greater number of tour operators.

We were met by our host, Jonathan, who drove us to our hotel, Casa Gitana, about 3 km. up the coast from town. It is a sweet property of 10 rooms, with an on-site restaurant, and right across the street from a beautiful beach.

The view down the road.

The beach. We did not go horseback riding, but the swimming was wonderful – just enough of a wave to play in and not get pulled out to sea.

We watched the sunset every night, sitting propped up against a log, with a couple of cold Imperial Originals, one of Costa Rica’s most popular beers.

We booked two tours here. The first one was a snorkelling tour to Canu Island – over an hour by boat out to a large island, reputed to have some of the best diving and snorkelling in Costa Rica. Our tour included all equipment, lunch and our delightful guide Katrine.

The plan was to have two snorkelling sessions, around different parts of the island, punctuated by food breaks. Our challenge that day was that the sea was very rough, which made for slightly unnerving swimming in bouncy water (two strokes forward, one stroke back). By the end of the day, we were all exhausted. My favourite snorkelling experiences so far have always been from shore, rather than from a boat in open water. I prefer to enjoy the surreal experience of sharing the underwater world in a more relaxed way.

This felt less like snorkelling and more like resistance training and sadly, the marine rewards were not that impressive. We did see three or four turtles and I saw a 5-foot white-tip shark, which shimmied in its shark-like way just below me. We saw the usual tropical fish, and we saw some dying coral.

Still, the tour was fun, our fellow travellers were a great mix , lunch was delicious and bountiful and we even got to play on the water slide.

Yesterday was the Big Kahuna – the reason everyone comes here – the tour of Corcovado National Park. If one were to do this area justice, probably the best plan would be to stay at an eco-lodge right in the park and devote a number of days there. In that time frame, you would see the greatest numbers of animals and birds, and come away with a far different experience of this pristine and highly protected region.

You cannot enter the park without a guide; for the protection of the park as well as the tourists. Bull sharks and hammerhead sharks come right to shore, and crocodiles travel in the rivers and out to sea. Herds of peccaries are unpredictable and the park is home to pumas and jaguars. Naturally we wanted to see all of them.

When you first arrive, your bags are checked. One of our fellow tourists was harshly admonished because she had forgotten to remove a disposable plastic bottle from her bag. Park rangers patrol the shores to keep an eye out for drug boats and poachers. This is conservation at its most intense and it’s heartening to see such strict measures in place.

The park station where we landed and began our hike.

We were a small group – just six of us. Bart and Eatch from the Netherlands, Mark and Carla from Switzerland, us and our extremely knowledgable guide Elia.

Our tour involved a 1-hour boat ride from Drake Bay followed by a brief interpretive session and four hours of hiking through the jungle. Elia has a degree in natural history and has lived in Drake Bay her whole life. She told us stories about life in the wild as a child – one of their pigs surviving a bite from a venomous snake ( his fatty layers saved him); her mother warning the kids to stay out of the river because of crocodiles (naturally they all went in), and learning about medicinal plants from her grandfather.

Elia was extremely informative and told us dozens of facts we would never have otherwise known about; we were lucky to have had her as a guide.

This spiky tree serves as a handy rubbing post for peccaries to rub against to get rid of fleas.

You might never guess that these flamboyant flowers and their equally show-offy (but inedible) fruit are part of a balsa tree – the same wood that we think of when we think of model airplanes.

If we were on our own, we would never have known this tree is home to a colony of bats – tucked just inside the open trunk.

If when you think of a jungle, you think of vines, I have a few here for you.

As we walked through the jungle, the terrain remained mostly flat. At times we would be deep in foliage, hot and humid and at other times, the trail would open up and we’d even feel a bit of a breeze. Mainly though, we trudged along in 32 degree heat and brutal humidity.

Sometimes, the trail would open up to the ocean and we were treated to sights like this.

We did have a cooling-off break at this river. Took off our shoes, sat with our feet in the water and took our chances with the crocodiles.

One thing we do know about any kind of wildlife tour is that you will see a) nothing, b) very little or c) have a bonanza of sightings with several close-ups. Your guide may do their very best to try and predict where the animals are, but in the end, it is pure luck. And in terms of the big catches (tapirs, peccaries, pumas, jaguars), we saw tapir poop, puma tracks and the tail end of a peccary escaping up a hill.

But we did come across a little herd of coatimundis – these adorable little creatures that are pretty much a guarantee on any tour. After we watched them for a while, we slowly walked right past them without issue – they are very used to humans.

We saw dozens of different species of butterflies. This one landed on a leaf and posed for us.

As for birds? We saw the glorious macaws flying past, and three toucans way up in a tree; too far to be photographed, or even viewed with a telescope.

The rest of the birds we saw were only visible through Elia’s telescope.

The red-breasted trogon

Another type of trogon ( name escapes me).

This gorgeous bird – also didn’t catch the name.

Elia had an unerring ear for bird and animal calls, and although the howler monkey was silent when we walked by, she somehow knew she was there. If you look at the bottom of the monkey, you will see her baby’s tiny tail hanging down.

We feel fortunate to have visited this incredible corner of the country. We wonder at the delicate balance that needs to be struck between encouraging tourism and maintaining the untouched quality of this place.

Will the dusty little town become a little less dusty? It is too remote to become another Tulum, but how much improvement to infrastructure is too much? At present, there are no docks for the boats, which depending upon the tides, can pose real risks to tourists. Last year, according to our guide, a high wave caught a boat as tourists were attempting to board, and there were multiple injuries. One man broke his back and two women suffered broken legs.

The scene yesterday at Corcovado.

We found it a bit unnerving to be hustled aboard our boat yesterday. If someone had mobility issues it’s not clear how it would work. Timing is everything and during high tide, the captain has about four minutes to get everyone aboard and seated. Our planned landing from the park to our beach had to be scrapped because the waves were too high. We were dropped at a calmer beach and a car sent to pick us up.

All of this is normal for the people who live here, and I do wonder how much the locals should be expected to change to accommodate tourists. My feeling is that it is on us to come here with a solid acceptance of the “tourist” limitations, and let it be what it is.

We’re about to go and watch our final sunset here. This will be our view – that luminous glow as the sun begins to make everything and everyone look a little softer.

Tomorrow we take one boat, and two buses to our next spot – the town of Quepos, on the edge of Manuel Antonio National Park. It is the most-visited park in Costa Rica, “a zoo“, as someone described it distastefully. From the sublime to the ridiculous, maybe?