Jaguars Are Not Spotted

I had a great time at Cockscomb Jaguar Reserve.  

                                                                        Really, I did. 

I was telling Captain Jeff and Bert while sailing the day before, about my reservation to go to Cockscomb.  They asked who my tour guide was, I said Doyle and they both raved about what a good time I will have.  Doyle must be a good guide!  The other guides I've had so far have been great.  Ebar on Monkey River, Shal at Nim Li Punit and of course Bert on the sailboat had set the bar high, it sounds like I'll have another good one in Doyle.

The day before I went sailing, I had made the reservation for the Jaguar Reserve.  The girl at the office told me Doyle would be the guide and I should meet at the office at 8am.
"8 not 7?", I asked.  I had seen this tour advertised on Facebook - the ad said 7.
"No, 8."
"8."
"Yes, definitely 8"
"Ok"

This morning I left my apartment about 7:30 for the five minute bike ride to the tour office - just in case it really was 7 and they were waiting for me.  No one was waiting.  No one was around at all.  Was it really 7 after all?  I hoped I wasn't late.

I chained my bike to the fence, sat down and waited for 8am.  8am came and went.  No tour, no Doyle, not a soul around.  Now nearly 8:30 and still alone on the office steps, I was contemplating what else I could do today and how to go about getting my money back when a little Toyota pick-up pulled up.  I could see a couple of people inside.

The driver got out and asked if I was going to Cockscomb.  I said, "Yes, are you Doyle?"
"No, I'm ______"  (Let's just call him Not Doyle) "You can sit in the backseat."
"OK."
And I got in.

The other two passengers introduced themselves to me.  Hans shared the backseat with me, his wife Debi was up front.  They are Dutch.  Hans is retired and has traveled all over the world, Debi still works part time and accompanies Hans when she can.  They both speak English fairly well, Debi better than Hans, but with a really thick Dutch accent.  It took me a while to get in the flow of understanding them when they spoke.

After making three other stops in the village to pick up food and for other reasons unknown to me, we finally set off for Cockscomb.   The Toyota had a shake, rattle and hum like I've not experienced before and it made me wonder if we'd even make to the reserve.  But we were off, and soon flying down the road.

Not Doyle had a different philosophy for driving than other drivers I'd had in my stay here.   Speed bumps, rumble strips, bike riders, sharp turns - he don't care.  Nothing will slow us down, well maybe just a bit at the really big speed bumps.  Hans and I bounced around in the backseat while Debi never let go her grip on the handle above her door.

Not Doyle didn't speak much, either.  Unlike Shal who gave Nancy and I interesting facts about everything we passed, Not Doyle drove in silence.  I did learn a lot though...about the Netherlands.  Hans filled the silence with story after story about his home.  Debi would contribute here and there.
"Huge ice skate event at home now.  Sad I miss"
"I only man in Holland who not skate"
Hans said he was 68, I responded that he didn't look 68.
"Acht.....twenty year ago I look Robert Redford!"
LOL

And on it went, Hans regaling me with Netherland stories in an accent I could barely understand.  Debi chipping in occasionally, mostly to help Hans with the correct English word.
Sometimes, they would talk to each other in Dutch.
Some of those times, Hans would then turn to me and say, "I ask Debi what....." and tell me what they were talking about.
Sometimes.....he wouldn't.

This was fun and continued until Not Doyle suddenly turned on his CD player.  Loud...it must go to 11.  The CD player had an interesting habit of skipping tracks.  We probably heard 40 to 50 seconds of a song then it would randomly switch to the next one.  Debi commented that, "It keep switching"  then added, "This local music all sound same to me, so it just like one long song!", at which Hans and Debi laughed wildly.

I smiled to myself thinking what an absurdly funny day it was turning out to be.

Soon we arrived at the entrance to the reserve.  When Hans saw the Mayan Tour Guide guy standing there, he loudly joked to me, "Ha HA...you must have to sit here!!!" and patted his lap, figuring the guide was climbing in with us.
"Ha ha", I thought....

After checking in at the office, Not Doyle came to my door, opened it and said I'd have to move over.  We were already packed in pretty tightly with Hans, myself, all our bags and the food in the back seat of the little pick-up, but we shuffled things around and I scooted over right next to Hans.  He immediately wrapped his arm around me and hugged me tight around the neck, calling out to Debi,  "Ha, ha, HAAAA.....Look at me!  I have new American girlfriend!!!!"  Debi laughed and laughed.

We set off up the mountain road, bouncing more than ever.  Wedged in between Hans and the Mayan Tour Guide (who I apologize for not getting his name...he never gave it, and none of us asked), I didn't bounce much - except for the really big bumps.  There were a lot of really big bumps.

On the ride up we talked about speaking different languages.  Hans speaks four - Dutch, English (sort of), French and German.  He said he tried to take Spanish class a little while ago, but, "The teacher, she was too pretty.  I stare at her all the time, not learn Spanish!!  HAHAHAHAHAHA"

Debi must have her hands full.

Hans and the Tour Guide

We arrived at the starting point of our hike through the jungle.  Not Doyle slept in the truck while our guide led us on about 4 miles of jungle hiking.  As tour guides go, ours was pretty average.  He'd stop occasionally to point out a plant, bird or animal tracks.  Mostly he was out ahead talking with Hans.  Debi and I were taking pictures, so straggled a bit behind.  At some points the others were so far ahead that I felt like I was walking alone in the jungle.

This flower Is called Hot Lips!

Unfortunately, we didn't see any animals on our hike.  We did see a lot of evidence of animals, though

A jaguar scratching post

                                     

GUMBO-LIMBO!!!

With all the rain lately, the trails were muddy and we saw many animal tracks - jaguar, armadillo, jaguarondi, and tapir.  We walked by the river we would later tube in and Hans asked if there were crocodiles.

The guide authoritatively said, "No, no crocodiles."
Hans said good because, "I angry of crocodiles."
Debi corrected his English, "...not angry, afraid"
"Ya...I afraid crocodiles"

5 minutes later we waked past a sign listing the types of wildlife in the jungle.  About fifth on the list was crocodiles.  Debi read it out loud and we both looked at each other and laughed.

Debi, Hans and me at the picnic area

We got back to the visitors center, had lunch and got changed to go tubing in the river.  While we ate a fox came by.

It was probably another mile back to the tubing entry point, so carrying our tubes we headed out. 

The guide his tube on his head

So I tried it, actually it was easier

Before we left I was handed a dry bag by Not Doyle in case anyone wanted to put shoes or clothes in it when we got there.  When we got to the start point, we each put a few things in the bag and I closed it up...as best I could figure out how to.

The river looked lovely.  It twisted and turned and had a nice current.  I've always enjoyed those lazy river floats at water parks, and this looked to be the perfect relaxing activity to end our visit.  Debi was reading the warning sign at the entrance and read out loud the part about EVERY tuber must wear a life jacket.
"Harummph", she said as we all glanced at each other's lack of life jackets.

Hans got in first and screamed something in Dutch when he hit the water.  Soon, Debi got in too and grimaced.  Oh boy.  The guide went into the water to help them push off.  I went down the steps with my tube and the dry bag and got in.

ARRGGH!!  (not Dutch , but the same intent), The water was cold!!  By the time I got situated in my tube (with no help from anyone, btw!)  Hans, Debi and the guide were off down the river.  The guide yelled back that I should try to keep up.

"I thought we just float.  How do I 'keep up'??"


Not 5 minutes into our float I heard Debi screaming and looked up to see her a ways down stream, tangled up in the scrub brush that hangs over the river.  She got herself loose and the guide yelled back to me, "Don't go in those bushes!".
 "Okaaaay?"


Paddling wildly to avoid going the way the current wanted to take me, which was right into 'those bushes', I had the revelation that this was gong to be a little different than Wild Water Kingdom.   It seemed like the current took me right toward every obstacle... rocks, branches, brambles, tree trunks...if it stuck out of the water and looked like it might be a painful encounter, the current took me there.  On top of that it seemed the inner tube was hell bent on me traveling backward down the river.   As soon as I got myself spun around to better see what I needed to avoid, the tube spun back around.

Until this point I had my camera - the brand new, water proof camera that my boss so graciously allowed me to bring on this trip - strapped to my right wrist.  The camera didn't really have a wrist strap, I just hooked it to it's carrying pouch with the attached caribiner, and used the draw string on the neoprene pouch to hook it to my wrist.  This method has worked well all trip.

Struggling to paddle with the camera on my wrist was not working well.   At this point the current had settled down a little and my main problem was not facing forward, so I decided to REMOVE THE CAMERA FROM MY WRIST (was that an audible gasp I just heard from you?), place the camera in my lap and use two hands to paddle.
"Ah...there we go..."
Straight ahead. able to see where I'm going.

"Gee, this is kind of relaxing after all"

The next few minutes happened very quickly.  I'll try to recount it as best I can.

"Yes, this is nice."
"Hmm...seems like the current is moving faster all of a sudden"
"Oh dear, I'm heading right for that very large tree laying across part of the river."
 Bear in mind that I am essentially alone as the others out ahead had floated around the bend and out of sight.

I'm paddling like a crazy person and it isn't working to reset my course.  The water is moving faster by now.   The tree is parallel to the water with about a foot or so clearance underneath it.  Getting out of the way wasn't working, I tried to come up with an alternate plan.

That plan consisted of grabbing on to the dry bag and camera, and when I get close enough, to kick off the tree with my feet and try to swing around the end.  Greatly underestimating the power of flowing water, I put my plan into action.

CRASH!

"ARRRRRRGGGHHHHH"

SPLASH!
I hit the tree.  The tube flipped.  I went under water and came out on the other side of the tree.  The dry bag was still in my left hand and...
(this next part happened in slow motion)
I could see the camera inches from my right hand.  Trying to reach for it, it dunked under in the swoosh of water and was gone.

Gone.

I looked quickly around hoping to see it floating away from me...anywhere... and yelled, "C-A-M-E-R-AAAAAAA"

This caught the attention of the tour guide, who was about a football field away down the river.  He got out of his tube and started wading back up.
 "Wading?? I could have gotten out and WALKED!?  Hmm, didn't think of that......."

As I started yelling, "I lost my camera!" I caught a glimpse of something small and black in the water about halfway between me and the guide.
"My camera, is that my camera??", I called out, a little frantically by now pointing toward the black floating thing

The guide caught up to me and picked my camera out of the water.  The neoprene case it was hooked to was just buoyant enough to stay afloat with the weight of the camera and the two metal caribiners hanging below.   He handed it to me and got back in his tube and floated away.   I managed to get back in mine, securely attached the camera to my wrist (!), tucked the dry bag between me and my tube and floated on down the river.

The guide went ahead and caught up with Hans and Debi.  I still don't understand how he goes faster than me.  He just sits there!  But, here I am again, yards from the others.

Those little specks down river are the rest of my party

The rest of the ride went fairly smoothly.  In between avoiding rocks, branches, brambles and tree trunks, it was kind of nice.  I tried to take a second and 'live in the moment', saying to myself, "I am floating in an inner tube....on a river....in Belize."...just to make sure I took the time to fully appreciate the experience.

I could see ahead that something had gone on with Hans.  As I rounded the bend, the guide was helping him back into his tube.  I was noticing how the edges with it's roots and branches hanging down, looked a lot like the habitat where we spotted crocodiles on the Monkey River cruise.  Maybe Hans met up with the crocs he was angry with....I mean afraid of.

After a while, I could see that the others came to a rope stretched out across the river.  They grabbed the rope and pulled themselves to shore.  Easy.  I prepared to do the same thing.  I got within about 15 feet of the rope, but I was close to the bank and a swirl in the current pushed me back up stream.  Try as I might, I couldn't get close enough to grab the rope.  Hans and the tour guide stood on the bank and yelled out tips, but nothing worked.  Finally I pulled myself along the edge with a long piece of bamboo and Debi came to reach out her hand and help me....while the two men watched from the shore.

We all stood on the beach for a while and laughed about how fun that was.  Hans looked a little shaken.  Who knows what I looked like!

We got up to the trail and Debi opened the dry bag to retrieve our stuff.  Everything was soaked.  Um...uh...maybe I did't quite close it right???

We joked a bit as we rung out our clothes.  Hans repeated a few times that his shirt, "supposed to dry 5 minutes, no problem."

Starting off on the trail again carrying our tubes, I took one last look back at the river.  I'm fairly certain I saw a snake swim by...

We climbed higher on our way to the waterfalls.

  There was a lot of Dutch conversation going on in front of me.  When we reached the fork in the road with signs pointing this way to the waterfall, that way to the picnic area, Debi stopped, turned to the guide and said firmly, "We not go to waterfall.  We go back."
All three of them turned to me.
"Do you want to go to the waterfall?"
I had already been told that we wouldn't be rock sliding at the falls, because it was too dangerous from all the rain and frankly I was ready to call it a day, so I said we should just go back.  Debi explained to me that the tube floating scared Hans a bit, he didn't think he could take waterfalls.

No problem.

We got back to our starting point, changed into dry clothes and climbed back into the little pick-up.  Well, Hans didn't change.  His shirt didn't dry in 5 minutes.  He got into the truck shirtless with a towel wrapped over his shoulders.  As he got into the back seat he leaned close into me and whispered gruffly, "It is your fault I have no shirt."
I stared back trying to process if he was really mad or just being funny.   He then cracked a tiny smile.  I guess he's not mad???

We bounced our way back down the hill, dropped the trail guide off at the entrance and turned on to the road to head back to Placencia.

The music blared, changing songs every half minute until Debi reached over and turned it off saying, "I don't like music so much".

Soon after getting on the north part of the peninsula we past a resort with a bunch of people standing in front.   Not Doyle stopped the truck and starting waving his hand out the window and soon 6 or 7 people came running.   One guy opened my door.  I wondered if I was supposed to move over and let him in, then Not Doyle yelled, "The back, the back!" and all the people climbed into the bed of the truck.

Now Not Doyle had better well slow down for the speed bumps ahead or we're going to lose a hitch hiker or two!   Fortunately, everybody stayed in the truck.  Along the way we saw a coati mundi running along the road.  Hans and Debi had us all laughing about how we saw no animals in the jungle but did see a fox at the picnic tables and a coati running along the road.

We got to Seine Bight and one of hitchers banged on the roof.  Not Doyle pulled over and two riders hopped out.  Two more got out a mile or two later and the last two literally leaped out of the truck as Not Doyle slowed down for a speed bump at the north edge of Placencia.  I'm not sure he even noticed they left.

We dropped Hans and Debi off at the bank, and said our goodbyes.  Not Doyle drove me back to the office where my bike was chained.

He shut off the truck, got out, shook my hand, said, "Thank you for having fun with us." and walked away.

I smiled and thanked him as well and thought to myself, "What a long, strange trip it's been...."