Trinidad (October 12-14)
Linda’s sister, Leslie, graciously agreed to stay with Lil, her mom, while we went on a birding cruise. To top it off, she agreed to drive us to the airport. We started very early in the morning of October 12, picking up Victor Emanuel, the eponymous founder of the nature company, and arrived at Austin Bergstrom International Airport in time to ensure that we would spend the majority of our time that day waiting around in airports. After a quick hop to Houston, we met some of our guides for the trip and other participants over lunch at Papadeaux’s restaurant, which Victor, renown for his ability to locate good food in unlikely places, assured us was the best choice for lunch. Then it was on to Port of Spain, Trinidad, starting point for our cruise.
After the delays that seem to be a standard part of travel to this part of the world, we arrived at our hotel just in time to catch a meal before the kitchen closed for the night. It was almost midnight local time when we finally got to sleep.
We awoke early the next morning and started birding from the balcony of our room before heading to the dining room for breakfast. Thus fortified, we set off with fellow birders Liz and Sam Febba for some quick birding at the Botanical Gardens. We managed to snag our first lifer of the trip, Cocoa Thrush (Turdus fumigatus), as well as see some fabulous butterflies and a huge iguana before returning to the (thankfully air-conditioned) hotel.
Late afternoon, we headed to the Coroni Swamp for a chance to see Scarlet Ibises (Eudocimus ruber) coming in to a roost. No matter how many times we see these incredible birds, we are always amazed at how deep the red color is. We watched several hundred flying overhead and landing in trees on a small island, together with many Snowy Egrets and a few Tri-colored Herons. In addition, we had a look at a roosting Common Potoo (Nyctibius griseus) and excellent views of a pair of Bicolored Conebills (Conirostrum bicolor), another lifer.
Then, it was on to the ship, Clipper Adventurer, which set sail for Venezuela during the night. We woke up to find the south coast of Trinidad to starboard, and the Caribbean to port. It turns out that we had to sail all around Trinidad because the water is too shallow to take the short route. We didn’t actually arrive in the Orinoco delta until nearly sunset on the 14th. We had a chance to watch huge numbers of Orange-winged Amazon (Amazona amazonica) parrots flying past, mostly in twos, with the occasional young bird accompanying the parents.
Venezuela, delta of Orinoco River (October 14-17)
The Orinoco, one of the longest rivers in South America, describes a long ellipsoidal arc around the Guianan Shield, an important geological formation. As the river approaches the Atlantic Ocean, it separates into literally hundreds of distributaries, forming innumerable islands in the process. The ecology of the region, as we learned from on-board lectures, is interesting because there are three different life zones that we would explore, called unimaginatively the Upper, Middle, and Lower deltas.
The river also hosts a number of small, newly formed islands that would be the focus of our efforts for the first day. These islands, formed from the silt carried down the river, are quickly covered by vegetation specifically adapted to the environment. This vegetation expends its entire energy budget on growth and reproduction and none on warding off insect predation. Naturally, each of these islands is home to huge numbers of insects as well as insect predators.
While we walked on the island, we were surrounded with about 100 dragonflies, all of which seemed to be the same species, possibly Brachymesia herbida. We realized that in all the years of watching birds, we had probably missed lots of opportunities to observe dragonflies.
One of these predators is a Spinetail (synallaxis sp. nov.) found nowhere else, discovered by Steve Hilty, one of our guides, about six years ago. As yet, it has no name, as the process of describing it to science is not complete. It was one of the two unnamed species we would see on the trip, the other being a Softtail (Thripophaga sp. nov.) discovered only two years ago. We had great looks at both of these birds, as well as another target bird for the trip, 
the Black-chested Tyrant (Taeniotriccus andrei), which Jim managed to photograph. As this bird is both rare and local, it has not been photographed well before. Two of our knowledgeable guides declared it the best photograph of the bird ever taken! His favorite photo of the trip, a shot of a Black-chinned Antbird (Hypocnemoides melanopogon) 
sitting on a branch over the creek. When we pushed the Zodiac near this bird to get a better look, he went berserk. We discovered that the Zodiac was about a foot from the bird's nest, which held a nestling. Anyway, it made for a good photo.
We spent two days exploring the creeks feeding into the river from Zodiacs, large rubber boats with outboard motors. Each boat held ten birders, a guide, and a driver. The entire group of 80 birders (including some SOB’s, that’s Spouse Of Birder) was divided teams with bird names based on questionnaires we had filled out prior to departure. Leaders rotated among the various teams, and we took turns being the first ones to board the Zodiacs in the morning. Actually, one group, the Screamers, usually boarded toward the end, the result of their selecting the latest wake-up time of 6:00.
We realized quickly just how unique this experience was. There are literally no hotels in the area, no roads, only a few villages where the indigenous people eke out a living, mostly by fishing. Our ship was a big attraction for the locals, and we usually had several large dugout canoes filled with families come to see the strange people. It was certainly a luxurious way to travel in the third world. We had great accommodations and excellent food, all that in a very special ecological area.
On the 17th, we traveled further upstream to a place called Sacupana, but which our local guides termed Bot Fly Bay. This was a clearing in the forest where someone had tried to keep cattle at one time. The edge of the clearing proved to be a great place for different birds, and surprisingly, our friend the Unnamed Softtail showed up as well. Apparently, once you get to the right place, the species is fairly common. Our group, the Kingfishers, took a Zodiac to an unnamed island just to see what was there. We saw a few additional birds, especially a terrific look at a Great Black-hawk (Buteogallus urubitinga), but the big attraction was that we ceremoniously named the island Kingfisher Island. It is probably large enough that it may still be around the next time there is a tour to the area. Many of the small, new islands are swept away by the annual floods during the rainy season.
Guyana, Essequibo River (October 18-20)
“There’s a large bird up ahead on the right.”
On the map, it’s just a hop, skip and a jump from the Orinoco delta to Guyana, but it took us a full day sailing to make the trip. Part of the difficulty was timing our arrival to allow the ship to pass over the sandbar at the entrance to the river.
The next morning, we took local water taxis to the Shanklands resort, an establishment that, though nice enough, would not qualify as a resort in most countries. The water taxis were larger than the Zodiacs we normally used for travel, and more importantly, they were much faster. The trip to Shanklands took about an hour, which didn’t seem like much, but which turned out to be more important later.
Shanklands consists of a large open air dining area and several small cabins scattered around a clearing. The trees around the clearing proved to contain many new species for the trip, including a pair of nesting Bat Falcons (Falco rufigularis), always a treat to see, and a family group of Yellow-tufted Woodpeckers (Melanerpes cruentatus). The latter are the exception to the general rule that all Melanerpes woodpeckers look the same. They are beautiful and easy to see, quite a change from the Red-bellied Woodpeckers we are used to.
However, the sighting we enjoyed most was not a bird, but a troop of Golden-handed Tamarins (Saquinas midas) feeding in a tree near one of the cabins. (In this instance, if not elsewhere, the scientific name is useful, as these monkeys have several English names.)
After spending a couple of hours at the clearing, we set off in the Zodiacs, which had finally arrived, to check out the various creeks nearby. The highlight of this part of the trip for us was sighting a truly amazing dragonfly with opaque red and black wings. Alas, the photograph was not very good. Taking pictures from a Zodiac can be trying.
We arrived back at Shanklands for a sumptuous lunch, proving again that good food can be found almost anywhere if you know how to look. (Or find yourself with people who know.) As we were polishing off the last of our fish and contemplating dessert, we got word that a Sunbittern (Eurypyga helias) was in full view on a nearby pond. The dining area emptied in minutes. The Sunbittern was very cooperative, staying around the pond long enough for all the photographers and videographers to take plenty of pictures.
Our guides then entertained us by using recorded calls to summon a succession of small, mostly nondescript birds, culminating in Zimmer’s Flatbill (Tolmomyias assimilis). This bird called repeatedly, but refused to come close enough for a visual ID. Because the call sounded somewhat different from other members of the species (according to our guides) we were anxious to get a good view. Finally, the bird decided it had to drive off the interloper and flew into plain sight. Bingo, we had our lifer. Then, the bird decided to hang around, responding to every call played. That grew a bit tiresome.
We took to the Zodiacs again and headed out to explore the riverside and creeks some more. Our first stop produced stunning looks at several Point-tailed Palmcreepers (Berlepschia rikeri), a species we had missed on our visit to Venezuela in 1999. One pair responded to the tape and sang duets from the fronds of a palm tree by the side of the river.
Then we moved into the same creek we had checked out in the morning, where Linda uttered the words that were to be repeated to wild applause at dinner, “There’s a big bird on the right up ahead.” Just as she said this, the Zodiac moved forward and the bird was no longer in view. Instead, we focused on making sure we nailed down two species, Moriche Oriole (Icterus chrysocephalus) and Sulphury Flycatcher (Tyrannopsis sulphurea), that can be found only near Moriche palms. “OK,” our guide Bob Ridgely said in response to Linda’s comment, “let’s make sure we see these first.”
So we did. Then the Zodiac moved forward.
“Stop the boat! Turn off the motor!” Ridgely said in a very excited voice. “It’s a Harpy Eagle.”
And so it was. 
A magnificent male sat at the top of a dead snag in full view. Usually, or so we’re told, if you want to see a Harpy Eagle (Harpia harpyja), you trudge through a muddy forest for an hour until you come to the nest. Then you wait for the bird to return. This was not a typical sighting.
The Zodiac driver whipped out his radio and passed the information along to other boats. Within minutes, we saw another Zodiac speeding up the creek, then shortly afterward, a second. Before it was all done, we had six of the rubber boats rafted together, each holding its full complement of passengers with cameras clicking repeatedly. We watched for half an hour, when Jim got the courage to ask, “Can we go try for the Agami Heron now?”
Ridgely commented, “I guess we know who the real listers in the boat are.”
As we moved upstream, the light drizzle that had begun several minutes earlier turned into real rain. That rain grew heavier and eventually, we abandoned birding in favor of seeking shelter. Back at Shanklands the water taxis were waiting patiently. We combined boatloads — each of the water taxis held about 25 passengers — and set off for the ship.
Did we mention that the water taxis had no roof? The rain grew steadily more intense. We could see huge thunderheads between us and the unseen ship. It turns out that we were provided with emergency cover: a heavy tarp lay between two of the seats. We opened it up and pulled it over our heads just as the first thunderstorm unleashed its full fury. Racing along as fast as the conditions allowed, we huddled under the tarp, not daring to even peek out because of the raindrops that smashed into our faces whenever we tried.
Fortunately, our driver not only knew where he was going, but somehow managed to drive the boat while standing on the stern exposed to the elements. After what seemed like forever, but was actually less than an hour, we were back on board the ship sipping hot drinks.
In the lounge, as noted above, Linda was the toast of the ship.
Forgotten in all the hoopla about the Harpy Eagle was the fabulous view of the Sunbittern, which would otherwise have been the topic of conversation at every table.
“There is an interesting moth on deck four.”
It rained all night and was still raining when we got up the next morning. We found out at breakfast that morning’s birding had been canceled and that the trip to Kaieteur Falls was questionable. Jim, who had found some bridge players among the passengers, knew how he planned to spend the day when Darwin Ferry, another nature photographer came to the table to let him know that “there is an interesting moth on deck four.”
That turned out to be something of an understatement. We first photographed a 
Swallowtail Moth (Urania fulgus), 
then spent the next several hours photographing other moths that had taken shelter from the rain on the walls of the ship. One of them, a Silver Window Moth, stuck to Linda’s finger, allowing us to take it into the lounge and show it off to our fellow passengers.
Meanwhile, the crew was monitoring the weather at Kaieteur Falls. We had always planned to take this side trip to see “the longest continuously flowing single drop waterfall in the world.” (You have to parse that carefully. The waterfall consisted of more than a single drop of water.) Originally, we were told that arrangements would be made aboard ship. On the plane to Trinidad, Jim finally got around to reading the material in the packet VENT had sent and discovered that we were supposed to have already reserved space.
However, several people, considering the weather and the reduced amount of time at the falls changed their minds. Linda was first in line to grab one of the newly available spaces, so we flew in a small plane to the falls, which are literally in the middle of nowhere. The flight showed just how little of Guyana has been disturbed by human activity. We passed over a mining operation of some sort, but otherwise, the first indication of anything except trackless forest was the landing strip at the National Park.
We had about two hours to grab a quick look at the falls — and try to get a good photograph of the famous, Golden dart-poison Frog (Colostethus beebei), which spends its entire life inside a bromeliad — before taking off for the return flight back to Georgetown. In the morning, we had left from a small strip upriver, but the ship had been repositioned while were gone, so our return trip took a different route. Again, we were impressed by the forest below us until suddenly we noticed a clearing. We had reached the narrow strip of agricultural land near the coast. The rest of the trip to the Georgetown airport was over endless fields of sugar cane.
After a two hour ride through the only city in Guyana of any size, we made it back to the ship. The city contained a profusion of pink Lotus flowers growing in drainage ditches on the side of the road as well as several Hindu temples decked out in flowers and lights for the upcoming Feast of Light.
That night, we left when the tide was right to clear the sandbar and headed further east to Suriname.
Suriname, Suriname River (October 22-23)
The saga of the Rufous Crab-hawk
On almost any birding trip, there is some bird that everyone but you has seen. This time, it was the Rufous Crab-hawk (Buteogallus aequinoctialis). Our group, the Kingfishers, had missed seeing it. Now, it is not exactly a rare species, but it has a limited range, and we were in that range. In other words, we needed to see it.
Our first stop after Suriname customs and immigration had cleared the ship, a process that took a lot longer than we thought it should, was the Botanical Gardens. When Suriname was a Dutch colony, this area was no doubt home to many exotic plants. Now, in post-colonial days, it had been allowed to more or less go to seed. Normally, that would mean that it was much better for birds, but on this day it was fairly quiet, as well as quite hot. We did have an excellent view of the Blood-colored Woodpecker (Venilornis sanguineus), which is not as unappetizing as it sounds; it is actually a lovely bird. After a short time, we decided to try our luck at Pepperpot, an abandoned plantation.
Pepperpot proved to be a lot livelier. Almost the first species located was a pair of Blackish Antbirds (Cercomacra nigrescens). As with most Antbirds, it was difficult to get a good look at them. They love to skulk around in the underbrush. Linda and I knew the technique: stand in one spot and hope the birds flit into view. This proved successful. Then we watched in amazement as our guides managed to show the birds to the entire group of more than 60 birders, a truly remarkable achievement, and a testament to their skill and patience.
A short while later, we found what we thought was a mixed feeding flock of birds around a fruiting tree. These flocks can be lots of fun, and a bit challenging, as there are several different species to try to see. However, as Peter English, the authority on mixed feeding flocks informed us, this was not really a mixed feeding flock, just a bunch of birds feeding in the same location. It still produced several nice birds. However, none of the birds was a Rufous Crab-hawk. So, our bus load of anxious birders set off to find our missing Buteogallus.
As you might expect, a bird named Crab-hawk is likely to be found near water. Therefore, we searched roads located near a swamp. Then we drove along the riverbank until the road ran out. We had wonderful looks at a pair of Wing-barred Seedeaters (Sporophila americana), which Victor claimed was a lifer for him. Jim asked, “I thought you didn’t keep a list. How do you know it’s a lifer?” Victor replied, “If I don’t remember seeing it, it’s a lifer.” Jim noted that based on that criterion, Linda had new lifers all the time. Our joke is that Linda claims to have a lifer, only to hear Jim say something like, “No, we saw that in the Pantanal in 1985.”
Then, the good news! The radio informed us that one of the other buses had located a Crab-hawk. It was growing late as we raced to the spot, hoping that the light wouldn’t fade before we got there. All was well, though. We made it in time, and the bird was sitting out in the open where we could see it through a scope. The search fulfilled, we headed back to the ship.
“This is a real mixed feeding flock”
The next day, we got up even earlier than usual in order to drive two and a half hours over a dirt road to Brownsberg, a National Park and wildlife sanctuary at the end of the road. Mr. Brown had come to Suriname in the 1930’s and established a gold mining business near the site, which is a large plateau, 530 meters in elevation. This is some 300 meters higher than the surrounding area, an extra bit of elevation that creates a different life zone, with different birds.
We were standing around the entrance (actually waiting in line for the loo) when someone spotted a White-faced Saki monkey (Pithecia pithecia) in one of the trees around the clearing. We watched in awe as he — for it was a full male with a spectacular white face — leapt from tree to tree, sailing through the air for over 50 feet at a time. Even though we knew that it was best to keep quiet, everyone in the group exclaimed “Ah!” every time the monkey jumped, with a few wows thrown in for variety.
Two bird species were targets for the day: the Gray-winged Trumpeter (Psophia crepitans) and the White-throated Pewee (Contopus albogularis). The site is famous for the Trumpeters, which are fed leftover rice and are about as tame as chickens. Apparently, their resemblance to chickens includes their flavor, which is why they are usually so difficult to see. We were able to watch, photograph, and even take video of a flock of 21 of them, a truly remarkable sight.
The Pewee is a very rare and local bird, a lifer for almost everyone there, including most of the guides. The only people who had seen it before were those who had observed it during the previous VENT trip to the area. So far as anyone knows, Brownsberg is the only place in the world where anyone has seen the bird. We had great looks at three of them, but weren’t able to get any decent photographs.
In between these two sightings, we had lovely looks at the Ferruginous Antbird (Drymophila ferrugina), which responded to a tape and walked to within five feet of us. It is a lovely bird, which recalled a similar experience in Papua New Guinea several years ago. It’s always a treat to see one of these shy birds up close and personal.
We also got stunning views of Painted Parakeet (Pyrrhura picta), a very local Conure species apparently more common in pet shops than the wild.
Around lunch time, we were heading back to the dining area when we noticed a group of birders had wandered up a side trail and seemed to be looking all over. This, Peter English informed us, was a real mixed feeding flock. In fact, it was two of them, one in the middle story, and one high in the canopy that happened to be feeding at the same place. These flocks, as Peter elucidated, are composed of several mated pairs of different species, all following one particular group leader. The group leader is a species that keeps a lookout while the other birds feed. Since these are all different species, they feed on different kinds of insects that they locate using different techniques. Thus, something that escapes from one bird is frequently snapped up by another.
It was a fascinating experience. The best part is that the group leader was taking his afternoon rest, which Peter had predicted, during which time the group stays in one place. So, we were able to see essentially every bird in the flock, most very well.
Somewhere in the flock was our 1000th species seen in South America, as well as Jim’s 3000th species seen anywhere in the world. (Linda is still a few short of that mark.)
We tallied our last lifer of the trip sitting on the bus as a Dar Ferry, fellow Kingfisher, reviewed photographs. He showed one of a problematic bird to Andy Farnsworth, our guide, who said, “Great. Red-throated Caracara.” Need we say that that was not what Jim had guessed? Or that no one else had even hazarded a guess. We counted it anyway.
“This is a record for the ship.”
Before dinner, we had our final meeting in the lounge, where plans for travel the next day were laid out. “We’d like you to know that this is a record for this ship. 2:15 a.m. is the earliest wake up call we’ve ever had.”
Travel in the third world is always a bit iffy, and we had a lesson on the way home. The flight from Suriname left almost on time, and we needed every minute to make sure that we had everyone on board. When we got to Trinidad, we had to proceed through customs and immigration, retrieving our bags, then exit the airport, turn around and rush back to the ticket counters for the next leg of the trip. The two of us were lucky enough to secure our seats on Continental for the ride to Houston despite being told when we got to the counter that “we were too late.” People scheduled to go to Miami on American, a flight that left ten minutes earlier, were not so lucky, and most of them got to spend several hours in the airport at Port of Spain.
As Victor noted in an angry letter to American, “We have all had the experience of waiting in the airport for passengers making a connection. Why is it any different when you know that a group of people will be arriving?” Apparently, it makes a difference whether you are in DFW or Port of Spain. We were just glad that we made the connection and got home as planned.
Despite this little hiccup, we had a wonderful time on the trip. Our five favorite birds of the trip, a hard choice:
- Harpy Eagle
- Black-chested Tyrant
- Ferruginous Antbird
- Black-chinned Antbird
- Point-tailed Palmcreeper
Boring details for other birders. Lists of all the birds seen. (PDF Files)