The following day the afternoon sun was still high as we climbed into sturdy boats that took us up Canal La Tovara to a pristine spring located deep in the mangrove swamp.
Before heading upstream, we drifted to the sand flats near the river's mouth to find a rufous-necked wood-rail: a dark, beautiful skulking bird of the shadowy mangrove edges. In response to a taped call, he crept along the base of the mangroves, a magnificent blend of rufous browns and grays glowing in the late day sun.
As we passed through a big rough set of bird-filled rocks that span the river like teeth, neotropic cormorants and brown pelicans warily edged away. We drifted up the canal into the shady, cool tunnel through the mangroves. Boat-billed herons eyed us, almost close enough to touch. Bare-throated tiger-herons, as magical as their name, lurched away on enormous wings, squawking indignantly. A laughing falcon gave his eerie call from a tall ficus tree. Anhingas perched, wigs open, looking like black umbrellas set out to dry. The guide suddenly cut the engine and pointed to what looked like a hefty piece of gray driftwood protruding from the green mangroves. A northern potoo was perched with head extended and eyes closed at the end of the wood. Perfect in his protective coloration, he was motionless for ten minutes as we politely and quietly admired him from a few feet away. As dusk deepened, lesser nighthawks coursed along the water. We reached the spring in full darkness. We had seen many common pauraques and a lesser-bulldog fishing bat under a bright full moon. After a brief stretch and snack, we headed back. Powerful spotting lamps reflected the red eyes of 23 northern potoos, now alert, hunting from exposed perches along the riverbank. Tired and happy, we saw the lights of San Blas wink in the distance as we reentered the main river channel.
Winter Sunset, Loomis Outlet
Friday, May 17, 2013
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Day 2 in San Blas
The next morning we headed out of town before dawn. We drove through deserted streets where we passed sailors in crisp white uniforms pedaling ancient bicycles to the naval base at the harbor. We drove past deserted roadside stands that would later be fragrant with the smell of freshly baked pan de platanos, or banana bread, made with bananas from the nearby fields. Pink sunrise was mirrored in the lagoons just outside town.
Singayta is a small farming cooperative a short drive from San Blas. We turned our van onto the rough dirt track that intersects the orderly village. As we bumped slowly through a neighborhood of homes with walls woven of mangrove saplings, smiling children leaned through open doors. Pigs rooted behind fences next to fields of Brahman-mix cattle. A few chickens and dogs shared the road. Bougainvillea looped and draped everywhere, absorbing the dim early light. As we left the village behind, forest surrounded us. Our guide pulled to the side of the rutted road. The air was still cool and fresh as we climbed out of the van and began our walk.
Groove-billed ani's flitted and bobbed on the barbed-wire fence, and a pair of masked tityras landed high in a giant fig to catch the sun's first warmth. Squirrel cuckoos called and soon appeared over us; a pair hopped up the branches of a kapok tree just like squirrels. A big cleared meadow with a few banana trees yielded a small flock of brilliant stripe-headed sparrows and their drabber cousins, lark sparrows. Farther on, a well-hidden happy wren (its real name) enchanted us with its song. A lineated woodpecker flashed his bright head in the morning sun and a summer tanager completed the picture. There were many more birds that we happily added to our lists. At the far end of the road, a collared forest-falcon perched silently at the margin of the forest. The stock pond at the village had the only black phoebe we saw in the state of Nayarit.
As we birded the road, men carrying water bottles and machetes passed us quietly. Making their way to work by foot or bicycle, they greeted us with smiles and wishes for a good day.
Singayta is a small farming cooperative a short drive from San Blas. We turned our van onto the rough dirt track that intersects the orderly village. As we bumped slowly through a neighborhood of homes with walls woven of mangrove saplings, smiling children leaned through open doors. Pigs rooted behind fences next to fields of Brahman-mix cattle. A few chickens and dogs shared the road. Bougainvillea looped and draped everywhere, absorbing the dim early light. As we left the village behind, forest surrounded us. Our guide pulled to the side of the rutted road. The air was still cool and fresh as we climbed out of the van and began our walk.
Groove-billed ani's flitted and bobbed on the barbed-wire fence, and a pair of masked tityras landed high in a giant fig to catch the sun's first warmth. Squirrel cuckoos called and soon appeared over us; a pair hopped up the branches of a kapok tree just like squirrels. A big cleared meadow with a few banana trees yielded a small flock of brilliant stripe-headed sparrows and their drabber cousins, lark sparrows. Farther on, a well-hidden happy wren (its real name) enchanted us with its song. A lineated woodpecker flashed his bright head in the morning sun and a summer tanager completed the picture. There were many more birds that we happily added to our lists. At the far end of the road, a collared forest-falcon perched silently at the margin of the forest. The stock pond at the village had the only black phoebe we saw in the state of Nayarit.
As we birded the road, men carrying water bottles and machetes passed us quietly. Making their way to work by foot or bicycle, they greeted us with smiles and wishes for a good day.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
San Blas, Mexico - Revisited
This article was originally published in Bird Watcher's Digest, Nov/Dec, 2000
The horizon was just turning a deep lapis blue as a young woman greeted us with a smile at the restaurant door. With a nod and a soft buenos dias she led us to our chairs, bearing a steaming pot of fresh, strong Mexican coffee. Another day of birding Mexico had begun. Although it was not yet 6:00 a.m., the comfortable El Delfin Restaurant, tucked into La Garza Canela Hotel, was bright with warm light and talk of the day's coming adventures. This particular day, two commercial birding tours and a few other small groups of people were making plans for a day of birding the wonderful areas around the town of San Blas, Nayarit, Mexico.
San Blas is a longtime favorite spot for birders. Over the past 15 years it has become better known and more accessible, due in part to excellent group tours to the area and a few comprehensive birding guides. San Blas is located approximately 80 miles north of Puerto Vallarta on the Pacific Ocean. The town is surrounded by mangrove swamps, shrimp ponds and lagoons. The Rio San Cristobal and its meandering tributaries flow through the outskirts. It is here that the magnificent Sierra Madre Occidental reaches the ocean. The climate is tropical. Relative isolation has kept San Blas a quiet and pleasant Mexican town, pretty much free of T-shirt shops and other noisy tourist attractions.
This past January I revisited San Blas and spent a week birding the lowlands, mangrove swamps, barranca and highlands that surround the town. Most areas are near enough to reach by early morning and bird until the heat of the day becomes intense. We would then return to the town for lunch and siesta or a swim, and go back out to bird from three in the afternoon until dark. Our group of eight logged 258 species last year. I picked up 19 additional life birds on this year's trip.
One of the most productive areas is just on the outskirts of town. Fort San Basilio is located at the top of a steep, rocky road that climbs through the dense forest surrounding town. The Fort dates back to the Spanish Colonial period and provides a sweeping view of the town and harbor. Now a quiet, graystone ruin, it's a perfect birding spot. The walk to the Fort ruins begins a few hundred feet below in a deserted plant nursery. Pink, white and magenta bougainvillea climb from tumbled pots to reach for the trees and banana plants that surround the clearing. The morning we visited, orange-fronted parakeets flew over in small, noisy flocks, along with white-fronted parrots and Mexican (blue-rumped) parrotlets- a Mexican endemic. Cinnamon hummingbirds buzzed in at the whistled imitation of a ferruginous pygmy-owl and black-chinned hummingbirds were easily found feeding in the bougainvillea. A citreoline trogon, another Mexican endemic, lemon breast rich in the sun, perched high in a gumbo-limbo tree. Deep in the shade nearby we found a russet-crowned motmot. Golden-cheeked woodpeckers and flycatchers were abundant ( we had seen willow, white-throated, vermilion, dusky-capped, brown-crested and social flycatchers by morning's end). A clay-colored robin (or thrush) hopped along the roadside, acting just like our less exotic American Robin.
When we reached the Fort, the town below us stretched to the sea. Mist shrouded the beach a few miles away, but a good scope brought in blue-footed boobies on the offshore rocks. Music and church bells drifted up to us. One of our group spotted a crane hawk with striking red eyes and feet, perched in the top of a palm below us. The hawk glared upward while hungrily dismembering a frog. We had a perfect view from above.
San Blas is surrounded by lowlands, and there are many lagoons and ponds a few minutes from town. Under the hot sun, these still, steamy ponds are rich areas for shorebirds during the winter months. We visited a few shrimp ponds and lagoons to find green and belted kingfishers, great egret, snowy egret, little blue heron, and many more. Common black hawk, Harris's hawk, gray hawk and short-tailed hawk soared the thermals above us. Chittering mangrove swallows lined the powerlines and below, least grebes shared the murky water with teal, shoveler and gadwall. Collared plovers searched the muck for shrimp.
From the ponds, it's a short drive to the ocean to cool off at Matanchen Bay, where white and brown pelicans, whimbrels and neotropical cormorants are plentiful. Magnificent frigatebirds roost in the palms around the small harbor. They look much less impressive folded up in a palm than soaring majestically above! The mouth of the Rio San Cristobal is a gentle, indirect flow to the ocean. Mangrove thickets define the river's edges. On the tide flats near the river mouth we found gull-billed terns, laughing gulls, Caspian, royal and Forster's terns and cocoa colored Wilson's plovers.
At this point we had had enough of the intense sun coupled with humidity in the ninety percent range. We headed back to our cool, tiled rooms for a very welcome shower and a cold beer on the stone patio. Hummingbirds whirred around us, sampling all the blooming tropical flowers.
Stay tuned for the next day's birding adventures.
The horizon was just turning a deep lapis blue as a young woman greeted us with a smile at the restaurant door. With a nod and a soft buenos dias she led us to our chairs, bearing a steaming pot of fresh, strong Mexican coffee. Another day of birding Mexico had begun. Although it was not yet 6:00 a.m., the comfortable El Delfin Restaurant, tucked into La Garza Canela Hotel, was bright with warm light and talk of the day's coming adventures. This particular day, two commercial birding tours and a few other small groups of people were making plans for a day of birding the wonderful areas around the town of San Blas, Nayarit, Mexico.
San Blas is a longtime favorite spot for birders. Over the past 15 years it has become better known and more accessible, due in part to excellent group tours to the area and a few comprehensive birding guides. San Blas is located approximately 80 miles north of Puerto Vallarta on the Pacific Ocean. The town is surrounded by mangrove swamps, shrimp ponds and lagoons. The Rio San Cristobal and its meandering tributaries flow through the outskirts. It is here that the magnificent Sierra Madre Occidental reaches the ocean. The climate is tropical. Relative isolation has kept San Blas a quiet and pleasant Mexican town, pretty much free of T-shirt shops and other noisy tourist attractions.
This past January I revisited San Blas and spent a week birding the lowlands, mangrove swamps, barranca and highlands that surround the town. Most areas are near enough to reach by early morning and bird until the heat of the day becomes intense. We would then return to the town for lunch and siesta or a swim, and go back out to bird from three in the afternoon until dark. Our group of eight logged 258 species last year. I picked up 19 additional life birds on this year's trip.
One of the most productive areas is just on the outskirts of town. Fort San Basilio is located at the top of a steep, rocky road that climbs through the dense forest surrounding town. The Fort dates back to the Spanish Colonial period and provides a sweeping view of the town and harbor. Now a quiet, graystone ruin, it's a perfect birding spot. The walk to the Fort ruins begins a few hundred feet below in a deserted plant nursery. Pink, white and magenta bougainvillea climb from tumbled pots to reach for the trees and banana plants that surround the clearing. The morning we visited, orange-fronted parakeets flew over in small, noisy flocks, along with white-fronted parrots and Mexican (blue-rumped) parrotlets- a Mexican endemic. Cinnamon hummingbirds buzzed in at the whistled imitation of a ferruginous pygmy-owl and black-chinned hummingbirds were easily found feeding in the bougainvillea. A citreoline trogon, another Mexican endemic, lemon breast rich in the sun, perched high in a gumbo-limbo tree. Deep in the shade nearby we found a russet-crowned motmot. Golden-cheeked woodpeckers and flycatchers were abundant ( we had seen willow, white-throated, vermilion, dusky-capped, brown-crested and social flycatchers by morning's end). A clay-colored robin (or thrush) hopped along the roadside, acting just like our less exotic American Robin.
When we reached the Fort, the town below us stretched to the sea. Mist shrouded the beach a few miles away, but a good scope brought in blue-footed boobies on the offshore rocks. Music and church bells drifted up to us. One of our group spotted a crane hawk with striking red eyes and feet, perched in the top of a palm below us. The hawk glared upward while hungrily dismembering a frog. We had a perfect view from above.
San Blas is surrounded by lowlands, and there are many lagoons and ponds a few minutes from town. Under the hot sun, these still, steamy ponds are rich areas for shorebirds during the winter months. We visited a few shrimp ponds and lagoons to find green and belted kingfishers, great egret, snowy egret, little blue heron, and many more. Common black hawk, Harris's hawk, gray hawk and short-tailed hawk soared the thermals above us. Chittering mangrove swallows lined the powerlines and below, least grebes shared the murky water with teal, shoveler and gadwall. Collared plovers searched the muck for shrimp.
From the ponds, it's a short drive to the ocean to cool off at Matanchen Bay, where white and brown pelicans, whimbrels and neotropical cormorants are plentiful. Magnificent frigatebirds roost in the palms around the small harbor. They look much less impressive folded up in a palm than soaring majestically above! The mouth of the Rio San Cristobal is a gentle, indirect flow to the ocean. Mangrove thickets define the river's edges. On the tide flats near the river mouth we found gull-billed terns, laughing gulls, Caspian, royal and Forster's terns and cocoa colored Wilson's plovers.
At this point we had had enough of the intense sun coupled with humidity in the ninety percent range. We headed back to our cool, tiled rooms for a very welcome shower and a cold beer on the stone patio. Hummingbirds whirred around us, sampling all the blooming tropical flowers.
Stay tuned for the next day's birding adventures.
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