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Travel Story - Costa Rica

Roughing it, Latin style, at Drake Bay, Costa Rica

As soon as I was out of the boat I spotted a tiny squirrel monkey on a branch beside the trail. Moving cautiously to avoid frightening it I slowly raised my camera – too late! The little guy made a flying leap, landed nimbly on my camera, took a close look into the lens, walked onto my shoulder and poked around my Tilly Hat and shirt pocket before bouncing back into the jungle.

We had arrived at the Drake Bay Wilderness Camp, a place where the term "wilderness" has a very different connotation than it does in B.C. The monkey, I learned later, was just checking me out for treats.

Our trip began that morning at the Cacts Hotel where we left most of our luggage before heading to the small airport that serves domestic flights in and out of San Jose, Costa Rica. Before boarding the six-place light-twin aircraft, we were each carefully weighed along with our 25 pound baggage limit. The six of us, Betty and me, Helena and Tim (also from B.C.), Lene and Lennert (from Denmark) had all booked Drake Bay's ocean kayaking option, run by Gulf Island Kayaking, of Galiano Island.

The flight takes about an hour, crossing over the rugged Cordillera de Talamanca, then following the sweeping coastline of the Pacific south to the Peninsula de Osa. At first the steep hillsides are a patchwork of fields, small farms and coffee plantations linked by a maze trails. Higher into the mountains the patchwork gives way to isolated farmsteads perched on scraps of tillable land with no visible connection to the rest of Costa Rica. Across the divide and down to the coast the hills are covered with unbroken tropical forest. As we descended toward Osa Peninsula I watched the surf from the open Pacific pounding the unbroken expanse of beach and wondered at the wisdom of kayaking down there.

The dirt airstrip where we landed appeared to have been hacked out of the jungle in the middle of nowhere. The only building was an open-sided structure, about the size of a small fruit stand, where we got out of the sun and waited for something to happen. About 10 minutes later an ancient Land Rover lurched out of the bush and we met Herb, long-time owner of the Drake Bay Camp. He drove us along a rough and twisting jungle track, forded a couple of small rivers, and finally arrived at the coast where low breakers rolled in across a gently shelving sand beach. Herb explained that a boat would pick us up here and that we should be ready to wade out through the waves when it arrived.

I never cease to marvel at the boatmanship of people in places like this. The two young Costa Rican boys got the six of us and our gear into the bobbing open boat and out through the surf without missing a beat. A short choppy ride around a rocky headland, into the mouth of Rio Agujitas, and we were there. From the small dock a trail leads up to the Drake Bay Wilderness Camp where the monkey that embarrassed me on arrival was now romping with a couple of his mischievous friends. Herb and Marleny may own the place but the three resident squirrel monkeys have definitely taken charge.

The camp sprawls across a low headland surrounded by shelving rock beaches and tide pools. Accommodation in this pristine "wilderness" ranges from spacious cabins with private solar-heated showers to tents. We opted for one of the tents, which turned out to be a large walk-in affair with a double bed, two dressers, electric lights, and a fan. A thatched roof covered both the tent and our private ocean-front patio furnished with a table and two comfortable chairs. From there a pathway leads through tropical gardens, past the open-air bar and small outdoor swimming pool, to the screened dining room where fresh local seafood is a specialty.

The "kayak option" gave us unlimited access to the boats. But more importantly it gave us access to Doug, an expert kayaker and naturalist, who became our guide and instructor for the duration of our stay. On our first day we followed him out to a deserted beach to practice surf landings and launches. Its amazing the things you will try when the water is warm and the beach is covered with soft, unbroken sand. Paddling furiously to catch the big one I spotted over my shoulder I felt the stern kick up. The boat sloughed sideways and began to surf down the steep front of the wave. I jammed in the paddle and leaned hard into the breaking suds, attempting to ride it in to shore. What the heck – maybe I'll make it next time.

Gathering up the pieces I blasted out through the line of surf for another try. This is definitely the place to learn and by the end of the day I had made some good landings.

The next day we were up before sunrise and, with the help of flashlights, walked to a ridge high above Drake Bay. The night air was filled with the buzz of cicadas and the guttural singing of tree frogs. At dawn, when the first trees became silhouetted against the eastern sky, the distant barking grunt of a howler monkey was answered, first by one group, then another, until the whole jungle throbbed with their strange hoots and howls. By the time the brief tropical sunrise was over the calls of the monkeys had been joined by the chatter of parrots and the morning chorus of hundreds of smaller birds. Having watched, and listened to, the jungle coming alive for another day, we headed back down the trail to breakfast.

Day trips in the kayaks included poking into some of the rivers. After a tricky surf landing at the mouth of Rio Drake we walked the boats across the shallows of a rippled sand bar to a deep, mangrove-lined channel. Paddling against the moderate current was hard work in the humid tropical heat and some of the corners were hard to negotiate. In places the channel was completely overhung by a dense canopy of leaves and vines, and barely wider than the length of a paddle. After following the twists and turns of the river for two or three kilometres we emerged into a large calm pool that was only a sand dune away from the breaking surf. We pulled out the boats, went for a cool swim, and settled down for lunch and a siesta on the soft warm sand.

On our last day we took a power boat south from Drake Bay to Corcovado National Park, a protected area of more than 100,000 acres that contains the best remaining Pacific coastal rain forest in Central America. Wading ashore to the San Pedrillo Ranger Station, we were met by Manuel, a local guide and naturalist who lead us deep into the forest past enormous primary growth mahogany, strangler fig, and garlie trees, all covered with orchids, vines, and bromeliads. At times the jungle was so quiet you could hear the rustle of leaf-cutter ants trucking along their jungle freeways. At other times the canopy above us exploded with the shrieks of scarlet macaws and the guttural barking of howler monkeys. This is one of the wildest and least travelled areas in Costa Rica. With 500 species of trees, more than 360 types of birds, and scores of rare mammals Corcovado has attracted tropical ecologists from around the world.

Our day was much too short, but we finished in style with a hike up the San Pedrillo River and a cool dip in the plunge-pool of a small waterfall before heading back to Drake Bay.

Except for the hyperactive monkeys the atmosphere at Drake Bay is refreshingly laid back. For those not inclined to hike, bike, kayak or swim there are warm tide pools to soak in and hammocks slung between palm trees along the beach. You can be as active or as relaxed as you choose but the one activity that no one seems to miss is happy hour. Every afternoon at about five everyone gathers under the shady, thatched roof of the open-air bar and sips the cool drink of their choice. "There goes the Costa Rican air force" says the bartender as we watch a dozen pelicans glide past in precision formation. Its an old joke, but also a gentle reminder that Costa Rica, which has one of the most stable governments in all of Latin America, has no military establishment at all.

Maybe its just the tropical breeze off the ocean, or maybe it’s the marguerites, but inevitably the happy-hour crowd agrees that this is pretty close to paradise and that Costa Rica has a lot to teach the rest of us. Salud!