Birding Outback Guyana

V. To Gunn's Strip by River

It was a forgone conclusion that our next bird survey would be to the Wai-Wai lands south of the Cuyuwini River in the upper reaches of the Essequibo River. The trip was scheduled for the first three weeks of November, 1999. Planning for this trip began in March 1999 and a prospective crew of birders was assembled including: Davis Finch, Jennifer Green and Polly Rothstein, Steve Tripp and me. Jennifer had managed at the last minute to convince a friend of hers, Steve Tripp, to join us. Steve was not a birder, but interested in photography and wilderness exploration. He had indicated to Jennifer that this "unpackaged" type of tour appealed to him. Thus, with five confirmed trippers we decided a week before the event that it was a "go."

The Essequibo River is the lifeblood of Guyana. It drains a huge area which runs the full length of central Guyana starting from the southern-most boundaries in the highlands of the Acari Mountains from which its tributaries, the Sipu, Kamoa and Chodikar Rivers flow. From the ocean to the northern edge of the Amazon basin many major rivers feed into the Essequibo among them; the Cuyuwini, Mazuruni, Potaro and Rupununi Rivers. By any standard the Essequibo is a large river. It is not quiet water. Flowing off the heights of the Guianan Shield it has violent fast-water stretches. Travel to the north of where it meets the Cuyuwini River is impeded by huge rapids and steep falls. Indeed, these barriers have swamped many a downriver trip and constitute an impenetrable barrier to any upstream water travel. However, an indirect approach down the Cuyuwini River to its meeting with the Essequibo provides ready water access to the southernmost reaches of the Essequibo since the rapids south of their confluence are few in number and readily navigated or portaged. Although the trip is more than 225 miles, it is not especially arduous. The entire basin is heavily forested, primeval and uncut except fora few abandoned Wai Wai slash and burn gardens. It is one of the last truly wild refuges on earth. Our goal was "Gunn's Strip", a landing field constructed in a small savanna on the left bank of the Essequibo ninety-five miles south of the Cuyuwini-Essequibo union. Our return to Georgetown would be by light plane.

On October 30th, 1999, Davis and I drove to Polly Rothstein's in Purchase, New York, there meeting Jennifer Green, my daughter and erstwhile major domo of "Green OTR Guiding" [(831) 479- 3521] of Santa Cruz, CA. The usual gracious Rothstein hospitality included a lovely supper at Luke's Chinese Restaurant with the charming Allison Beall, Jay Gartner, Polly's husband Jesse, and our crew. On October 31st, we were up at 5:00 AM and chauffeured by Jay to JFK for our flight. When we arrived at the BWIA terminal, it was clear that something big was under way. The front parking area of the BWIA terminal was packed with TV vans each with its disc antenna unlimbered. Our terminal was that used by Air Egypt and it had just become clear that an Air Egypt flight had crashed off Nantucket. Later, we were to learn that this was unlikely to result from an equipment failure.

As always the line outside the terminal was really cold, slow-moving and, of course, composed of Caribbean natives each transporting the required 24 cubic foot piece of luggage. One of my fellow standees, Farley Sankar (Southern Main Rd, Rousillac LP #1487, Trinidad), turned out to be a game warden and a guide who's beat is Trinidad's Gudenau Swamp. Farley is a skilled birder and very knowledgeable about this best location for Scarlet Ibis. I made a note to make a walkabout with him someday. We boarded BWIA Flight 424, an L1011-500, at 8:15 AM and rolled out at 9 AM to Piarco, Trinidad where we were met by Steve Tripp, Jennifer's friend who had signed on for the trip. Arriving in Timerhi in Georgetown we were met by Brian and Teri of Wilderness Explorers who settled us in the Pegasus Hotel by 6 PM. We supped with Trudy and Tony Thorne, then off to bed early. This was memorably the most convenient and pleasant trip to Guyana yet.

At 5:00 AM on November 1st, the view of the mud flats from the top of the Pegasus is a steady highway of herons; snowys, tricoloreds and a few Great Egrets flying along the shore from the mouth of the Demerara, while Laughing Gulls soar and flap out past the breakwater. Magnificent Frigatebirds coasted on still wings over the off-shore fishweir pilings on which sat a few Lesser Black-backed Gulls. The usual close passes of Grey-breasted Martins completed our quick picture of this familiar home away from home.

To Dadanawa

Our flight to Dadanawa left Ogle Airport in Georgetown at 7:30 AM . The TransGuyana Twin Otter was piloted by Rohan Sharna. It was a cloudless, warm flight with unparalleled views of the Kanuku Mts as we passed over the Rupununi gap and dropped into Dadanana at 9:30 AM. After a quick visit and greetings to Sandy, Marjory and our trip companions Davis, never one to putter about, led us across the stream behind the ranch in search of the local birds. The best bird called in was a Pale-legged Hornero. After lunch- as always a stupendous meal- we went off to Towa Towan where a Jabiru nest awaited us. Two nearly grown juvenile storks were at the nest. I set up my Leica telescope and we were rewarded by excellent views as one of the parents flew in. There is nothing quite so overwhelming as a jaibiru nearby in flight. They are immense, powerful storks. In the Curatella fields there was a generous elaenia display: Yellow-bellied, Plain crested, and Lesser, as well as the Amazonian Scrub Flycatcher (at this writing the bird here is to be proposed as a new split) were all present. A pair of Crimson-crested Woodpeckers worked the upper slope woodlands and, in the brush near the rocky outcrop, a Blue-tailed Emerald held court. Near the spring, Lesser Kiskadees were seen. At dusk the sky over the pastures around Towa Towan came alive with Lesser and Least Nighthawks although the Nacunda, which is usually present, was not seen today.

Black Rock Camp

Today (Nov. 2) we leave for the Cuyuwini River. We plan to camp along the way. Before breakfast a walk down the ranch road toward the gate revealed among other birds: Rufous-browed Peppershrike, Finsch's Euphonia, Chestnut-vented Conebill, Ruby-Topaz Hummingbird, Pale-bellied Tyrant Manakin, Flavescent Warbler, and a Peregrine Falcon, a very good showing for a short walk. Our caravan consisted of two Land-Rovers and gear plus all the personnel. The crew was exceptionally large both because new campsites had to be set up along most of the river route and because this was such a novel trip that it was difficult to deny the great number of participants who looked forward to it.

left to right, Cheryl, Justin's wife, the just born Quadda, and Justin Photo - Polly Rothstein

With us were Duane, Marjory, Paula, Justin (a father for less than six hours), Placid, Leroy, Ashley, Pip, Salmon, Andy, and Ray. Driving Land Rovers were Carl and Rupert. In addition to our party, an advanced party which had hauled the boats and other gear by tractor awaited us at Cuyuwini Landing. We paused at Karaudanaua Village around 3 PM . Here we met Magnus our guide on the first Cuyuwini trip. We were deserted by Duane when he went visiting, then Justin went off to hunt up Placid, etc. I am amazed that so many people can be lost in such flat country.. so quickly. For an hour or so we cooled our heels and bird watched. Not too bad either. since we were rewarded with great looks at White-throated Kingbirds and a Hepatic Tanager. Finally we reformed and continued south to camp for the night at Black Rock Camp a few miles from Karaudanaua. This camp is at a stream ford on a commodious rock shelf with ample space for Land-Rovers, tents and hammock slings in the edge brush. A walk across the stream there turned up Boat-billed Flycatcher and Dusky-throated Hermit. The Curve-billed Scythebill, another life bird for me, was seen on this run. My sleep was interrupted by painful calf cramps in both legs. This was a rare event possibly the result of potassium loss due to excessive sweating. Tropics do require a certain amount of accommodation for us wintered adapted northerners. In the morning both Red-bellied and Red-shouldered Macaws visited palms around our camp. After breakfast we headed for Cuyuwini Landing stopping along the way to sample the water from a dug well near an amerindian farm dwelling , This is at best a truly questionable practice, old wells carry their history of pathogens. Probably because of the increased traffic on the woods road to Cuyuwini Landing, the road had deteriorated greatly creating an annoyingly high amplitude washboard effect. This was especially evident in the woods. By now I was overheated, not feeling too chipper and so the punishment was augmented. But on the savanna the trail was white sand and cool breezes. The savannah produced kestrels in great supply and a pair of Aplomodo Falcons.

On the Cuyuwini River

On arrival at Cuyuwini Landing I jumped into the 70 F water (after mooning all present!) and, greatly refreshed, began to reappraise my existence. At the landing there were a dozen Wapishana and Wai-Wai from the village at Gunn's with their headman, Dennis Paul. The delegation had come up the Cuyuwini to the landing from Gunn's Strip in a large dugout,

Wai-Wais from Gunn's Strip Village in a forty foot dugout Photo - Don Green

at forty-foot it was among the largest I'd ever seen. Among them was a Wai-Wai man who had represented the tribe at a recent conference. This man, unlike the others, was dressed in native garb and wore an interesting necklace from ear to ear and below to his neck, his hair was cut in the traditional bangs. I was told that when visitors came to Gunn's, he repaired to a distant camp to avoid them. Nevertheless, I asked if I could take his picture. He declined.

Farine Pan Falls (#2) was our first campsite (N 2^o 05.708', W 59^o4.182'. The camp, much improved, sits on a sandy, shaded bar on the left side of the river. There is every indication that the bar is flushed regularly by wet- season floods. Now it is equipped with tables and benches constructed of planks sawn from large logs with the chain saw. Very skillful work. The benab is well built, large and comfortable. The amerindians had set up a more or less permanent village in the Farine Pan Farm across from our campsite and while Davis, Jennifer, Polly, Steve, Justin and Leroy took off for a woods walk, I demurred and hung about camp in an attempt to recover- it took me two more days - in spite of pepto-bismol and loperamide. Sunning, swimming and just hanging bear the camp still helped a lot.

I slept well for eight hours and was up at 4:30 for a quick breakfast and the dawn patrol float on the river. This was familiar territory and most of the birds that morning and on a walk later that morning on the "Ya Koo" Trail behind the camp were those I'd seen at this site on past trips. We did find a Spotted Antshrike (the 2nd Guyanan sighting) which volunteered its call and made itself an easy quarry. A Golden-headed Manakin lek was discovered with perhaps 6-8 displaying males in attendance. Raimond found us a White-crowned Manakin. Bird song was abundant, but few birds were seen. After lunch the indefatigable team of Davis, Jennifer and Polly set off again across the river. I hung around camp with Steve photographing butterflies on the river banks, sunning, bathing, napping and generally playing the role of the "wuss". Later we went for the usual relaxing evening boat drift.

On the next morning (Nov. 5th) a Band-tailed Antshrike, a new Guyanan record, was found in the shoreline shrubs by Davis. It was seen well by all of us. We broke camp about 9AM and proceeded down river toward a site called Aishalton Landing near where Placid's grandfather once had a farm. Early in the trip the way was narrow, meandering and the current often strong. There were many fallen trees to avoid among them the always dangerous "pimpler" (Bactris or similar spiny-stemmed pinnated palm genera). At one point while navigating trees and brush that had fallen into the river, the boat turned under a low, broad-siding dead spar hidden in the tangle. Davis, Jennifer and Polly all seated together were pressed against it. Polly got a puncture on her hand and abrasions on her arms as all fended off, then ducked under the obstruction. Jennifer, bless her soul, was well equipped with a modern medical kit for just such an event and we rested while Polly's wounds were dressed. Happily, Polly suffered no ill effects from what could have been a serious accident. The disadvantage of having fixed seat backs on the boats was clear since initially the seat backs prevented those seated from simply falling backwards to pass under the obstruction.

While passing through a narrow wooded race a small jet-black bird darted across the river and was immediately identified by Davis as an Amazonian Black Tyrant, another species new to the Guyanan list. This bird was displaying in thin, low, floodplain brush. It would rise up to a perch flutter its wings and give tick-like snapping sound, then drop down only to appear on the original perch within a few seconds. We subsequently found another pair in similar surroundings. The Cuyuwini thereafter assumed the character of a series of slow, mile-long pools separated by short, swift rapids as if we were passing over a series of low bowls separated by uplifted thrust slices. Throughout this trip the banks of the rivers were wooded or brush-covered. Absent were stretches of sandy dunes such as are common along the Rupununi River and in the lower reaches of the Rewa River. Just before noon we rounded a bend in the river and high in a tree on the left bank of the river was the unmistakable profile of a Harpy Eagle with its great plumed head-dress ruffled by the wind. After no more than 20 seconds it launched off and disappeared over the forest. This was a life bird for me, Jennifer, Polly and Steve, as well, a number of our guides had not previously seen this deep forest eagle.

At Aishalton Landing we stopped briefly then camped on a shelf on the right bank a few miles below (N 2^o03.41', W 59^o4.30'). Our total travel today was 16 miles, sixty-nine species and lots of birds. The next morning (Nov. 6) we were up early and joined Davis who, having commandeered a boat, was already on the river before some of us were out of our hammocks. Not an unusual of event. We broke camp quickly and the birders set out for an extended drift. This was a leisurely drift from 5:30 AM until 11:45 AM when we stopped for lunch. We motored for only the last two miles. That afternoon we motored to make up for lost time as we headed for camp #3 - ultimately labeled "Ants Camp." Our usual practice is to spend a full day and two nights at a site that looks promising for birds. Such runs from one birding site to another were often about thirty miles and this one was 26 miles. Initially there was much fallen lumber in the river but later the river widened considerably and the travel was more leisurely. Pip sat on the bow wearing his signature cap bearing the appropriate "Banana Republic" label. As we passed through a heavily forested section the shotgun was passed forward for me to give to Pip. Duane hissed, "Muscovy, Shoot it." Pip had no idea where the bird was, but there it sat 25 feet

Pip with Muscovey Photo - Don Green

away on a limb two feet above the water facing the other direction. Pip looked at me, I pointed at the duck and he neatly shot it in the head. During this run as on every other travel day I collapsed into my accustomed role of score-keeper and by the day's end had counted a total of 103 bird species. The most numerous were White-banded Swallows (27) followed by Yellow-crowned Elaenia (23 heard), Amazon Kingfishers (19), Little Chachalaca (18 heard, but could as easily been 36!), Blue-headed Parrot and Swallow-wing (16 each). Also we had 11 Sungrebes (for me, another Life Bird), 4 Sunbitterns and Green Ibis, and the herons: Coccoi, Rufescent-Tiger, Capped and Striated, which are characteristic of these forested rivers.

Ants Camp (#3) was on a spacious sandy shelf on the left bank below a bend where a stream entered from the right side (N 2^o11.569', W 58^o 42.225'). It earned its name because of the insects encountered by our guides in clearing the site. However, we were not subsequently bothered by ants. We arrived at about 5:30 PM after a 26 mile downstream run and drifted on an evening birdwatch. In fact we drifted so far that it took us a full 30 minutes to motor back. On the return the setting new moon was a splendid sliver in the western twilight. At this near equatorial latitude the horns lay eerily in an almost horizontal plane so unlike the nearly 45 degree slant of the new moon in New England. Supper featured a special dish, curried muscovy which I enjoyed with the full knowledge of my complicity in its procurement. Nov. 7th, the half-light of dawn is always my most treasured time in the woods and lying in my hammock listening to the sounds of waking wildlife is a favorite pastime. In these deep riverine forest woods dawn is vibrant with the calls of birds and howler monkeys. This morning featured the calls of Collared Forest Falcon, the deep glottal hoot of the Rufescent Tiger heron, and the Lined Forest Falcon's lament. Still under the weather, I stayed in camp while the birders went off for a boat trip at 5:30 AM. Duane went across the river to set up the radio and talk with Sandy and Dianne. The boat trip turned up Slaty-backed Forest Falcon, Bat Falcon, macaws and parrots. By this stage of the trip we had accumulated a list of a dozen hummingbirds. Among them were: Ruby Topaz, Black-eared Fairy, Glittering -throated Emerald, Dusky-throated Hermit, Long-tailed Hermit, Reddish Hermit, Gray Breasted Sabrewing, White-necked Jacobin, Blue-tailed Emerald, Fork-tailed Amethyst, White-chinned Sapphire and Amethyst Woodstar.

In the afternoon we went out to walk the trail behind the camp. There were jaguars in the neighborhood and while cutting a trail Leroy disturbed one that was hunting an agouti and reacted aggressively. This was apparently a favored jaguar territory judging by the plentiful claw marks on the trunk of a nearby tree.

Jaguar scratching post
Photo - Don Green

Duane and Ashley while in the process of hiding a fuel depot for the return trip had flushed a small heron in the brush at the mouth of the small stream across the river from the camp. Subsequent search failed to find it, but the size was much less than that of the Striated Heron and the likely candidate was a Zig-Zag Heron- one of the two herons that I had not yet seen.

In the early hours of November 8th the calls of two owls new to me were heard. Davis identified them as Mottled Owl and Stygian Owl. Both calls were deep and distinctive. We had heard both the Tawny-bellied Screech Owl and the Spectacled Owl in the days before. Some birds are almost exclusively identified by ear, notably, tinamous, owls, nightjars and chachalacas since seeing them is largely a matter of chance, i.e., being in the right place at the right time. Bird lore is rife with tales of people hunting tinamous in underbrush without success for weeks, only to find one foraging in the middle of a well-marked trail. For many birds the first calls at dawn are distinctive and not like those sung through the day. The dawn chorus heard from the breakfast table was impressive. Davis, for whom bird song is an obsession, quickly rattled off twenty-seven calling species. I list them in rough order of their identification to sketch the avian environment at Ants Camp: the two owls, Collared Forest Falcon, Mouse-colored Antshrike, Amazonian Antshrike, Dusky Antbird, Spot-winged Antshrike, Mealy Parrot, Blackish Nightjar, Buff-throated Foliage Gleaner, Buff-throated Woodcreeper, Chestnut-crowned Foliage Gleaner, Wedge-billed Woodcreeper, Striped Woodcreeper, Blue-crowned Motmot, Coraya Wren, Slate-colored Grosbeak, Gray Antbird, Yellow-crowned Elaenia, Gray -fronted Dove, Double-banded Pygmy Tyrant, Amazon Kingfisher, Little Chachalaca, Black-chinned Antbird, Greyish Mourner, Black-faced Antthrush and Short-crested Flycatcher.

To Fibber McGee Camp (#4)

We left the crew to pack up the camp at 5:45 AM and drift-floated for the first two and a half hours until we arrived at a ledge/rock pile called "Blackman's Rock"on the left bank of the river. The name commemorates an unlucky member of an Indian party. The story is that a black man had been resting on the rocks when he was attacked by a large anaconda, dragged into the water and drowned. His body and that of the snake which had choked on him, was eventually recovered. The rocks are decorated by petroglyphs. For about a half hour we searched for and photographed art while keeping an eye out for anacondas. When the pursuing boats did arrive, Ashley


Petroglyphs, right, and Ashley with his peccary Photo - Don Green

brought a White-lipped Peccary that he had shot a few bends above our position. We'd known the pigs were there since we heard and smelled them when we passed by. Fresh meat is a useful commodity but in the tropics needs preservation. A fire was quickly built, the pig's scent glands were excised, it was singed, skinned, butchered and smoked. In skilled hands the entire process took only an hour. Smell is an important sense in the outback and often on river floats we were aware of odors; some like the dead-give-away stink of the peccary herd, others elusive, both fragrant and delicate. We frequently encounter a type of streamside deciduous-leaved tree which quite simply stinks. The scent seems to originate from the bark and wood rather than the flowers and suggests a peculiarly sharp combination of amines, indoles and terpenes. The scent of this tree is strong enough to be detected a hundred feet away. This scent may serve a function to protect the plant by repelling or attracting animals, or it may simply be so strong as to shock a visitor's ability to detect odors, as it does mine. It is, like skunk scent, the olfactory equivalent of an explosion. As we drifted along the shore, the bloated corpse of a dwarf caiman was found floating. On turning it over with a paddle we released the putrescent gases and the chemical panoply of animal decay: reduced sulfur compounds, short "goaty" smelling volatile fatty acids, the well-named polyamines of putrescine and cadaverine. A nose-full of these compounds is sufficient to send us reeling backward and induce cookie-pitching nausea. But that reaction is peculiar to some species and not to others. These same scents are used by soaring Turkey Vultures to detect and locate carcasses. The Greater Yellow-headed Vulture, also a forest vulture, probably uses olfaction to detect decaying corpses. Wave-hugging pelagic birds such as shearwaters and albatross, which are always on the move, do much of their foraging by searching for the scents of oils and other substances from fish, squid and crustaceans. Searching by scent seems to be limited in birds to these instances, but the role that scent plays in the detection of bird prey, for instance by birds seeking wood-boring beetles, is not obvious. Surely the scent of freshly expelled frass could be a clue to the prey of woodpeckers.

We continued down river to stop an hour for lunch and bird a half mile above Taruma Rapids. We drifted, but mostly motored, to Camp #4. I call it "Fibber McGee Camp" while others may remember it as "Golden-handed Tamarin Camp." At this point we have traveled 75 miles. The camp is in the woods above a broad smooth rock shelf, on the left bank. It is an ideal bathing, fishing and landing site. This site is shadowed by high trees but it is open with many sky holes.

A high canopy giant draped with lianas Photo - Don Green

I thought this the most elegant of the nine forest sites we stayed at on this trip. In the evening we drifted downstream and enjoyed great looks at four Paradise Jacamars. Smaller species of monkeys the so called "saki-winki" (Guianan Saki Monkey) and Squirrel Monkeys lept from other trees to the tops of the "pimpler" palms along the edge of the river. The trunks of these palms (Bactris?) are furred with six-inch long deadly-sharp needles which offer good protection from tree-climbing predators. Dozens of the small monkeys examined us nervously emerging from the leaves again and again with clear apprehension before they hid among the palm fronds for the night. Back to camp, we supped, bird-listed and fell into sleep by 9 PM. Our sleep was accompanied by a Spectacled Owl hooting in the tall trees above the camp. In the early dawn the deep, nearby repeated grunting of a jaguar was heard from across the river.

A morning float revealed a blond/black animal moving slowly twenty feet high in a riverside tree. This was the Southern Tamandua, locally called a "woosh." Since all the floodplain termitaria and ant colonies are in trees, this anteater is an arboreal specialist. Another animal which we saw well at the camp was the Golden Handed Tamarin. This small primate is long-haired and jet black. The naked skin on distal parts of the legs and arms and hands is strikingly gold. Thus, it is widely known as the "Midas" Tamarin. It was a very attractive, abundant animal seen here for the first time. Apparently, we had camped in an area that was a highway for animals since Black Spider Monkeys and Red Howlers were seen near camp running on fallen tree trunks. An afternoon walk behind the camp gave good views of Ferruginous-backed Antbird and Scale-backed Antwren, but the star of the trip, so far, was the Tiny Tyrant-Manakin whose earnestly repeatedly call is instantly recognized as a clearly pronounced "Fibber McGee." This is a nondescript, olive-colored tyke with a extremely short tail. It is minuscule, not longer than 3 inches. It's head is capped with an often concealed bright yellow crest. It is found in the high sub-canopy where we first heard it, but in responding to Davis's tape of its own call it flew down to perch on a branch only six feet off the ground and displayed repeatedly for the unseen impostor. The display was to call the "Fibber McGee" phrase and then to, as Polly accurately expressed it, "helicopter" up six inches from its perch on hummingbird quick wings and hover briefly, moving at the same level 10 inches from side to side then drop back to

Tiny Tyrant Manakin on perch Photo - Don Green

the perch. It excitedly raised its crest, its only distinctively colored part, into a "butch" crewcut when on the perch. Several times it stretched its neck out to full length giving it the outlandish appearance of a miniature heron. That such an apparently short-necked bird could extend its neck to a length equivalent to that of its body was surprising. We were mesmerized for 10 minutes by this display which it eventually abandoned when another bird to failed to appear and we turned to investigate the plucked plumage of a trogan which had fallen prey to a forest falcon.

Polly had planned to investigate the use of a laser pointer as an adjunct to the often nearly impossible job of poinbting out a particular bird. A rather nondescript flycatcher, possible a Forest Elaenia, was located forty feet up in a large tree. We all watched the laser's ruby red dot climb the tree trunk and proceed out the branch toward the quarry which, on spotting it, instantly lit out for parts unknown. Apparently, this species considers the laser is a serious threat. It would be useful to know whether wave-length, intensity or simply the light beam's direct approach was the factor most disturbing to the bird. On an evening drift we had very good sighting of a Double-toothed Kite (LB), soaring over the forest. It has the size and shape of a Coopers Hawk. From a distance its flight is unmistakable since it soars with distinctive, shearwater-like, down-bowed wings.

The soles on Davis's pair of boots have predictably disintegrated. They were rather aged. Being a "belt and suspenders" type who doesn't like to store his feet for long periods in wet boots, I had brought an extra pair which fit him just fine. Afternoon walks offer hit or miss birding. What do they know that Davis has not yet figured out? It was hot and the trail too steep so I stayed in camp with Steve giving lessons on how to be a "wuss." The radio supplied some drama: Carl and Rupert had made it back to Dadanawa in good order but later Carl and Sandy had driven to Lethem where fan belt, radiator and alternator difficulties delayed their return for four days. There has been a fair deal of back and forth radio discussion about the incoming flight to Gunn's which would extract us on Nov. 19th. The issue being getting the fuel down to Gunn's for the return trip to Cuyuwini Landing. Duane had understood that 50 gallons of gasoline would be sent. Tony claims there isn't room. But this is hard to swallow since the four incoming passengers, gear and other goods coming in would amount to about 1000 lbs and the plane could bring in 1350 lbs. There should be enough for the 300 lbs of gasoline. It seems possible that items other than for the passengers and resupply of our trip made up the shortage in capacity. The problem was ultimately resolved by using two planes. However, our agitation was appropriate because the need was critical for the return trip. We discuss how essential it is for Georgetown to fully understand our need for their support when we're in the field. Were the Georgetown personnel to participate in one or more of these extended distant trips, I'm sure they would come to understand the situation. By no means were we anywhere near the end of our rope, but we could imagine it. Among the many attributes that makes Duane a superb trip captain is his ability to recognize and deal with reality. So assuming he might be shorted fuel for the return, to conserve what we had, he immediately dispatched one of our boats to paddle down river.

A Night-time Adventure

Ray, Andy, Pip and Ashley set off to paddle the rest of the day, camp overnight and continue the next day when we'd catch up. The remaining part of the plan is that in the morning we would bird and drift while Justin, LeRoy, Placid, Marjory and Paula break camp and motor down to us. We would then take them in tow and ultimately meet the advanced party at the next camp site which they would have already prepared. Ashley's boat stopped at dusk. They hung their hammocks on sandbar brush and grabbed a bite to eat. Ashley baited a hook and fished from his hammock until he fell asleep. A 20 lb catfish, colloquially referred to as a "Tiger Fish", took the bait and was hooked. Ashley started hauling the fish in, Andy saw it and yelled "Tiger!" which immediately got everyone's attention since he could as easily referred to the less welcome appearance of a jaguar in camp. Things shortly settled down, a fire was built and a fish boil was the order of the moment. The next night we had filet of "Tiger" at Camp #5. Nov. 10th at 4:00 AM we breakfasted and by 5:50 we started our drift. At 10:45 we took a break and shortly thereafter we found the first note left by Ashley's party. We stopped for lunch at 1:45 PM, then picked up a second note about 2:30 and finally rejoined Ashley at 3:00.

"Fire Snake" Photo - Duane DeFrietas

Camp #5 was a quickie, no john, no benab shelter, hammocks hung from tree branches on a sand bar swept clean by the flood about 106 miles from Cuyuwini Landing (N 2^o 14.467', W 58^o26.359'). Fortunately, we have not yet had rain on this trip. While arranging camp, the guides brought in a cocoon somewhat larger than a cecropia cocoon. Surrounded by the entire crew I took out my buck knife and proceeded to cut through the thick silk. Inside in the tangle of loosely woven silk there was not a single pupa but about 20, almost all had been parasitized. Finally, I found one that was intact and just as I was prying it out and was fully concentrating on this completely novel object. Wham! everything disappeared in a brilliant flash of light. Startled, I dropped knife, cocoon, pupa, shocked completely out of my mind. What had happened was that Polly had pulled out her camera and without warning taken a photoflash shot virtually in our faces. Thus I learned that there were such things as cooperatively pupating caterpillars. In other aspects this was an interesting stop. On brush across the stream a brilliant red "fire snake" was seen. It was a type that our guides feel is exceptionally aggressive and known to attack when disturbed. It was not disturbed. A unique dawn sound was the clattering, like venetian blinds, made by the wing quills of a large guan. We only heard this territorial or flocking call in the early morning. This was a quick camp to leave and shortly after our departure we investigated a small inlet on the right. This was a great idea because the inlet was the home of Guyana's national bird, the hoatzin. A life bird for many of us. At the start of our trip Jennifer had stated that finding the hoatzin was one of her objectives on this trip, but she had been assured by Duane and Davis that there were no hoatzins away from the coast. The bird was low in thick, 15 foot high shrubs overhanging the narrow inlet. It gave itself away as it noisily branch-hopped a little distance. Soon we were all on it. What a coup for Jennifer! This was clear demonstration how little even skilled woodsmen, as the aforementioned, know about backwoods Guyana, and how much there is yet to learn.

he Confluence Camp (#6)

We arrived here at 1:30 PM , Nov. 11 having traveled a total of 125 miles (N 2^o 16.036', W. 58^o 20.255'). This camp is just before the convergence of the Essequibo and Cuyuwini Rivers. We scouted down to the river junction and then reversed and established a camp a half-mile or so upstream on the Cuyuwini's right bank. This camp with a well-constructed benab was in a copse of trees on a level sand bank eight feet above a clear sandy bottomed river. We bathed and changed our clothes. A walk on the trail behind the camp revealed a pair of Fasciated Antshrikes and three Yellow-billed Jacamars. Davis "wired" a Guianan Toucanet which called repeatedly in a high tree for our best view yet of this species. Upstream from the campsite was a small bay (Lukanani Pond) to the west where we made an evening float. The distant growl of a Great Potoo was heard. For the first time we were threatened by thundershowers. We ate and I turned in. Finally, the storms made their approach. Two big cells 20 minutes apart pounced on us with the rain, thunder and lightning that only an equatorial blow can produce. The benab's central support bowed and the tarpaulin over my corner of the benab filled with enough water to make a full-sized sized wading pool. It stretched to within inches of my hammock. Jennifer told me she thought I'd be crushed. While I dozed like a baby in a simply lovely, dry shelter the guides skillfully bailed it out and put in supports to drain the flood away. This was our first and worst storm.

In the mist-shrouded morning of Nov. 12 we went up the river into the bay and watched Blue-throated Piping Guans leave their night roosts. The second one clearly rattled his quills while we watched his flight. I had a great look at a Red-Billed Toucan preening. After the cloudburst nearly every bird a was preening. Drifting along the vine-covered shore we spooked a very dark, long-winged, narrow-tailed nightjar. It fluttered forward and settled next to a quite different greenish-yellow bird. These were the male and female respectively of the Ladder-tailed Nightjar (LB). He is mottled black and white with white tips on his outer tail feathers and with the typical nighthawk white wing bands, she is camouflaged except for pointed outer white-tipped tail feathers. If she had white wing bands, I didn't notice them. A fast, low flying half-dozen medium-sized macaws whipped out of the mist, passed directly over our heads and out of sight. Identification was not absolute but according to Davis this our first, and as it turned out, our only, sighting of Chestnut-fronted Macaws on this trip. After breakfast, I stayed behind to bring my diary up to date while the crew searched for birdlife across the river. Placid and Andy worked to strengthen the shelter. Pip and Duane fished bringing in a few lukanani. Placid is engaged in basket work and is now weaving me a small creel which as I write this has seen use for the smallish trout on the Little Megalloway and Cupsuptic Rivers of Maine. He does such beautiful work.

Where the two rivers converge a mile or so away there is an abandoned farm that Duane has visited to procure grapefruit. We do not lack for food. At the Cuyuwini Landing Farm, Henry Lawrence, their captain, had provided us with lots of fresh fruit; limes, grapefruit, sugar cane and bananas. The bananas come in many colors and forms; large, red, fat ones (more than 50% greater in diameter than those in our supermarkets), short, very sweet, ones with reddish flesh. None were quite like the traditional supermarket variety. We eat plantains fried or otherwise cooked, or as dried, salted chips. Game is plentiful and we have had "Powis" (Crested Currasow), "Marudi" (Blue-throated Piping Guan) and Muscovy Duck, in addition to labba and peccary. Because we are so far from any settlement fish are both common and large. There are familiar fish such as the small "cooti", Tiger-fish (the large, black-striped catfish), Banana Fish (a huge

Upper, banana catfish,
Lower, tiger catfish Photo - Don Green

yellow bellied, red-finned catfish whose back is olive with darker vermiform patterns), Biara (a sabre-toothed fish) and others new to me such as "Haimara" (a large mouthed fish with a long tubular body, big scales and a very small tail), and the "Diwala" (or "Hiwata"), a large, long catfish with barbels easily 12 to 14 inches long radiating in a fan from the head. Occasionally, the fishermen catch a lukanani with a gob of flesh torn out testifying to the presence of large pirai (piranha). Nov. 13, the rain continued most of the morning. Birding was marginal at best. We did get good looks at a Red Howler troop. On a morning boat trip up the shoreline I spotted the perched cryptically patterned Ladder-backed Nightjar pair even before they flew. Rather a triumph for these old eyes. Mostly this was a day to relax between occasional showers.

On the Essequibo River

Today, Nov. 14, we start up the Essequibo toward Gunn's. The distance is about 85 miles. For the first dozen or so miles the Essequibo meanders due east then turns south. Nearly all of us are under the weather with a sudden, mysterious indisposition. Last evening was full of passing thunder but no rain, yet. It could be a miserable ascent if it rains heavily. At this moment in the predawn hour, I lie in my hammock listening to a "rubber" frog serenade me. Departure is at 5:45 AM. We make a quick stop at the Wai-Wai farm just up the Essequibo (N 2, 15.584', W 58, 19. 554' ). The landing is on a steep slippery bank composed of glue-like clay which stayed with boats and boots for days. At the farm we collect grapefruit and sweet limes. The grapefruit varies greatly in flavor from tree to tree. The fruit of one variety was especially small, sweet and perfumed. It was the best I'd tasted ever and clearly the product of thoughtful selection. In the orchard trees were globular ant nests. When disturbed by our picking these rather big arborial ants make an easily heard tapping sound as they rap their abdomens against the leaves. The sound recruited them toward our disturbance. Polly has plans to send them to E. O. Wilson. At 8:00 AM we left the farm and started our ascent of the Essequibo.

The Black-collared Swallow a variety I had not yet encountered in Guyana is common on the upper Essequibo. This is a small black swallow with clean white underparts and a black chest band. A very neat bird occuring in river sections with large mid-stream boulders on which it is seen resting. Here, it mostly replaces the White-banded Swallow. For several miles in an area called Kassi-Attae, we pass rock ledges and streamside boulders some of which are impressively huge. About 18 miles up the river we approached a four and a half foot caiman sunning on a small mid-stream sandbar. This is a variety of crocodile I had not seen before. It is a green color with small scales on its sides. The head is distinctive with bony ridges across the forehead in front of and above the eyes. It sunned with its mouth open while a very large bee rested next to its eye collecting, I presume, crocodile tears. A sharp bend in the river puts us suddenly beneath a tree with twenty Blue and Yellow Macaws which, startled, fly off in gorgeous color. Today, we saw 44 Blue and Yellow Macaws, 17 Red and Green Macaws, 12 Scarlet Macaws and 2 Red-shouldered Macaws. They are spectacular sights. Our affinity for birds may be driven by the fact that most birds, like us, are not simply animals of vision but share with us the capacity for color vision. Color vision is not generally distributed in other mammalian species and few other mammals respond to bird color as we do. Human traffic is slight in this reach of the river and the birds are not easily spooked. We have for the first time begun to see White-eyed Parakeets, 150 today. Umbrellas are at the ready to fend off light, cool rain showers that have been regular through this day. Nevertheless, we make very good time with a fair tail wind and travel 35 miles in four hours. Only in a few narrow areas is the current strong enough to noticeably slow us.

Capped Heron Photo - Duane DeFreitas

Capped Heron Camp (#7) ( N 2^o 07.761' and W 58^o 22.382') was set up in a clearing on the brow of a steep bank thirty feet above on the right side of the river. A stream enters on the opposite side of the river below which a long smooth rock ledge forms the opposite river bank. We elect to make a quiet evening drift while the finishing touches are put on the camp and are rewarded by splendid looks at a breeding-feathered Capped Heron pair. Their brilliant white plumage is painted with a delicious lemony wash and each black top cap is set off by a long plume. As we drift quietly, we hear what sounds like a "rubber" frog constantly and loudly croaking beneath the boat floorboards. We search the floorboards and front compartment. Have we accidentally taken on a stowaway? But no. Duane finally interprets the sound as that of the "Basha" - a fish whose croaks are the amplifed sound made by rubbing its swim bladder against special structures. The fisherman were told of the Basha location and we later had some in our daily fish-fry.

At this camp, as at the third camp, my Pentax 140 camera failed for the second time with a dead battery. This new battery lasted for one week and three rolls of film. This was a surprise since I had had the still under warrantee camera "fixed" by Pentax several months before. I was unimpressed to learn, as the Pentax Repair facility then reported to me what I knew full well, that the "battery was dead." Nothing has made this trip more unpleasant than the unreliability of this Pentax 140 camera. My companions equipped with Canon and Olympic cameras commiserated with me. I'm sure they were quietly pleased that they had chosen more durable equipment. On my return I sent it back for fixing a third time and ran a single roll of film through it before it quit for a third time. In retrospect it is a wonder with the heat and humidity that any equipment can survive this trip. But I'm learning which does. In spite of this equipment failure, some bugs, heat and occasional heavy rain, this trip so far has been a marvel and I have both Polly's photographic record of the trip and a spare camera (not a Pentax) Polly generously lent me to rely on. As a consequence, virtually all the photographs in this write-up are Polly Rothstein's contributions.

We are now about fifty miles from Gunn's Strip. In the morning (Nov. 15th) we birded on the right bank of the river, in the afternoon on the left bank and in the evening our usual drift. From the boat others spotted a Tayra moving in the shoreline trees. I missed it. I'd seen tayra tracks on other trips. It is a member of the weasel family of a size and shape like a Fisher and like the fisher is an effective terrestrial and arboreal predator. Everyone is enjoying the exploration of novel surroundings. I mention Teddy Roosevelt's great river exploration in Brazil. Our guides comment that they think I look like him. I'm flattered because TR was always one of my heroes. Teddy, like us, was unquestionably a wanderer. It is an unresisted impulse in the first people of Guyana, as it is in non-natives. It's an understandable trait in non-natives since they'd just recently wandered here from elsewhere and represent a recent selection for peregrinators. But could this character in natives be the genetic remnant of the the great migratory spirit that initially peopled the New World? It must have been a powerful incentive to walk in country that no man had ever set foot on. I've not yet met a back-woods Guyanan who wouldn't drop everything to walk in the wilderness. An example of this enthusiasm was the fact that Cheryl, Justin's wife, had delivered them a fine baby boy, Quaddad (Osprey), the night before we left Dandanawa and Justin had just barely got acquainted with the new son before taking off on which would be a six week absence. He would not be denied. I asked Marjory why she went on our long river trips which for her involved long hours of work preparing meals for a large group. As a child she had lived many years in isolated small settlements and farms. Much as I do, she truly loves the woodlands and cannot imagine being long separated from them. She and I share the belief that the journey is the kernel, and the destination is the husk.

Some, like most in our group, travel for the novelty of exploration, others have different motives. At the start of our journey at the Farine Pan Camp, Ivor appeared from the nearby settlement with necklaces and beads he'd made to sell. He was a young man -late teens? I bought two from him in exchange for a file. He promised that he'd return that evening when the birders returned. He did and sold out his lot of handicraft to the rest of the party. All his enterprise was part of Ivor's great plan to finance his wandering. The next morning when I inquired after him, I was told he had "gone for the gold fields." Presumably, to make his fortune. The goals of a very modern man.

But other, more sinister, travel motives occur even here in the Guyanan bush. One evening Duane pointed out that during the wet season the Dadanawa raft, used to transport vehicles over the flood stage Rupununi occasionally got hung up, lost and had even once been stolen. The raft theft began when a young man was hired at Dadanawa. His references were problematic and questioned, but he was hired in spite of this. He had his eye on matters which did not entail the basic fruits of employment. His truthfulness came into question and, resistant to attempts to correct his shortcomings, he took off for the bush. Eventually, items began to disappear from the ranch. The nature of the missing items led to the conclusion that someone was setting up a camp. The search for a thief in the nearby bush islands was commenced. With the posse in hot pursuit he decided to skip out. At night he crept onto the raft, cast off and headed downstream for the outside world. A hunt soon discovered the raft missing and grounded at the top of a huge, intimidating rapid. The thief was on it, trapped in mid-stream unable to escape. He was rescued, severely chastened and locked up while others considered his fate. However, a lock-up was also not a part of his grand scheme. He took off overland for Shirley Humphries' at Mountain Point, stole her bicycle and pedaled to Lethem. Of course, by the time he got there everyone knew about, the raft, Shirley's missing bike and the unrepentent thief, such being the miracle of radio. He was apprehended for bicycle theft, once again sternly mishandled and imprisoned. True to form, he escaped and fled to his aunt's home. Eventually she too came to suspect that he was markedly deficient in the honesty department. Upon learning of her opinion he took off for Brazil where, according to the view of some, he might fit right in.

Camps #8 and 9

Nov. 16th we left camp #7 at 5:40AM and slowly motored upriver. In mid-morning we passed "Rock Danigo" one of several towering rocks along the left bank. Trees on islands in this part of the river were draped with pendulum nests of colonies of yellow-rumped caciques with, as always, a few piratic flycatchers. The piracy of this flycatcher is in usurping the nests of caciques and other pendent nest-builders such as oropendulas and orioles. Hilty and Brown (Birds of Columbia, Princeton, 1986) note that most colonies of these icterides have at least a pair of piratic flycatchers present. These flycatchers seemed to spend a great deal of their time near the nest fussing and charging about. It is a common sight to see large numbers of caciques leaving and returning to the colony. I suspect that these flycatchers unlike the caciques continuously stay in the vicinity of the colony. Their role may be to alert the cacique colony to predators and may support the colony in repelling invaders when the majority of the colony are foraging at a distance. My observations in the Falkland Islands clearly led to the conclusion that the Falkland Skuas residing near Rockhopper and Gentoo Penguin colonies spent a great deal of time driving off interloping skuas. The taking over of a caicique nest in the colony and the occasional loss of a penguin nestling may be a small price for the colony to pay for the protection gained by tolerating a pest with strong territorial instincts.

At about 12:30 PM we arrived at the base of Yukanopito Falls which at this season comprised a mile or so of flooded rapids easily navigated except for a large rock-field at the top of the rapids. After investigating various options on the left bank and the center of the river, we disembarked and walked up the right bank a few hundred feet while the lightened boats were run through the shallow water. By 3PM we were once again in smooth water and ran past the mouth of the Kassikaityu in about an hour. At 5PM we set up camp (N 1^o 49.691'; W 58^o 32.717') on left side of the river near a low waterfall (Biloku Rapids). At 42 miles this was by far our longest run on the river. The crew had no need for Duane in setting up a camp since they're all experts. Thus freed, Duane explored the rocky shelves and islands near the junction of the Essequibo and the Kassikaityu rivers. While there he'd got a jump on Davis by finding and videoing the White-naped Seedeater, another bird new to Guyana. An evening drift was

Backlit Nimbocumulus Photo - Don Green

dramatically set off by great nimbocumulus clouds backlit by the lowering sun. We stayed at Camp #8 overnight but the nearby waterfall was an acoustical nightmare totally drowning out all bird song. It was generally true in New England that although first people's fishing sites were often at waterfalls, villages were never near waterfalls because of the noise level. We moved to a quieter site the next day. Camp # 9 was on the right bank of the river about a mile upstream and on the top of a steep bank. It had an awkward access, but was quieter. In the morning a run down to the E-K junction failed to produce the White-naped Seedeater much to Davis' disappointment. We explored for a mile or so up the Kassikaityu seeing many birds well but none that had not been seen before. In the afternoon we walked in the woods behind the new camp and in the evening made another drift. A short-tailed pygmy tyrant was heard, but not seen. In general this was not a very birdacious site, however quiet.

Akhuto Village

On Nov. 18th we set out at 6:30AM for our last camp. The site is Akutho, the first people's village adjacent to Gunn's Strip. An original settlement called Konashen is mapped in the vicinity but precisely where I did not discover. We arrived there at 9:15AM to be met by the entire village of perhaps two hundred people. A really great turn-out. We were immediately led to the guest house on the west side of a large common. The guest house is immense, possibly 30 ft by 150 ft. It is walled chest-high with mortered fired bricks and thatched to its height of about 25 feet. Occasional gates restrict the entry of pigs, chickens and youngsters. Akutho sits on a flat clay shelf above a bend on the left bank of the Essequibo (N 1^o39.024', W 58^o37.696'). A large tributary, the Buanawau River, enters from the right bank just upstream. It is an attractive site surrounded by riverine forest but was since abandoned the following year because of severe flooding. Marjory set up her kitchen in one end and our hammocks fill the sides and center of the building. The airstrip runs down the center of a small savanna a half mile away from the village. Our first order of business is to bird, so Davis leads us out in the hot sun to search the few palms for point-tailed palm creepers. "Mad dogs and Englishmen etc..." runs through my frying brain so after a hour of this Duane and I retreated to the comfort of the guest house. Pip, realizing my over-heated condition, proceeded to prepare me a nicotine fix and hunted up some kadjua da. Kadjua da, fermented sweet potato juice, is a mildly alcoholic, nutritious drink. It was extremely refreshing and restorative. I relaxed in my hammock for a while, gathered a change of clothes and trotted to the moist clay landing place and swam in the cool water. We had a fine meal while sitting on the usual assortment of buckets, boards, and bags around the kitchen area devouring Marjory's last major supper offering. Duane entertained

Duane, children and video Photo - Don Green

the exuberant jubilant youngsters by videoing them and others and showing them the results on the video screen which led to explosions of screaming and shouting. In the clear evening dusk I set up the Leica telescope to view Jupiter and Saturn. The school master organized an astronomy lesson and his students and the whole village lined up to see the moons of Jupiter and the rings of Saturn. It was an exciting revelation. For most it was their first view of our extraterrestrial planetary systems. Night sounds in Akutho were nearly constant: hens "cuuurred", roosters crowed, dogs yapped, a baby in an adjacent hut cried nearly continuously through the night, low voices comforted the child, a pauraque called its " cook-wheeer" notes. Regularly, through the night the guest house creaked and swayed as others exited hammocks on a night errand and reentered. I lost count.

Guilty at skimping on yesterday's birding, I was up at 4:00AM and out to the savanna with Jennifer and Davis for a futile hunt of the white-napped seedeater. We did instead find two birds new to my life list, Willis's Antbird (a recent split of the dusky antbird) and the Bronzy Jacamar. A Bank Swallow was seen here with the expected Barn Swallows. The planes were due about 8:00AM, but they were delayed for an hour. During that time Duane delivered me a blow-gun and darts he'd traded for some arrow points I'd brought along. The savanna at 4AM is quite cool and pleasant but by 9AM was a furnace. The first plane buzzed us at full power at 9:00, the second landed more sedately. Aboard the planes were a number of old friends: Roger (Roger-Roger) Stanley, Mike Li and his cousin Steve, and a Canadian nutritional consultant, Ron Weston who, like Steve Tripp, was looking forward to an unorganized adventure on the fishing camping trip retracing our route to Dadanawa. Roger was his usual irrepressible, ebullient self. The planes were refueled by hoisting five gallon pails of gasoline to the top of the wings and pouring the fuel through cloth filters. After many photos, hugs and farewells to friends, hosts and fellow adventurers we took off for Ogle, Davis sharing the aft compartment with the empty fuel drum and me in the co-pilot's seat. Jennifer, Polly and Steve flew in the first plane. We flew along the Essequibo over more than 200 miles of uninterrupted jungle. The immensity of the Guyanan tropical forest was overwhelming.

At Ogle our party reformed and we were run through down-country customs by Teri with her customary efficiency. Brian, our driver, got us to the Pegasus by 1:30PM. We hung about the Pegasus, cleaning up, birding, birdlisting and dining. In the morning as usual we walked about the Botanic Garden, visited the Zoo and scanned from the Pegasus rooftop. This was ground pretty well covered in the past and the rarity today was a Common Tern from the rooftop - rare for Guyana but not for the northeast US coast.