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Monterrico
(Costa Sur) |
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| In short |
This fisher′s village on Guatemala´s straight south coast suffers violent surf. The treat: being shaken up by the surf, burnt by the sun, dozing with a sun downer, tropical dances at night and mosquitoes to spoil paradise. Birdwatchers or shrimp fishers go canoeing into the mangrove hinterland. At night everybody looks for egg laying turtles in order to snatch the eggs and hand them over to conservationists or dealers.
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| What to pack? |
Insect repellent, sun block, swimming gear
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| Description: |
Arriving late, walking towards the thundering sound of the waves. The restaurants on both sides of Main Street leave a palm framed view on the sea. Rosy foam builds up in sunset glow, but behind you see the blackish ocean preparing for a restless night of tides at work. There is no beautiful bay, no palm trees over turquoise water. No, just the straight beach, fading away to East and West in the salty spray. And some 5000 miles opposite are the Easter Islands. In the face of these dimensions it is nice to feel the warm volcanic sand under the feet and know that there will be a safe hotel bed somewhere at the beachfront.
I always enjoy myself immensely at the beach of Monterríco. The black sand is pleasant for the eyes and the skin, and the surf is the wildest in Guatemala. After a few days of rain and winds it even can become dangerous, some six people die a lone death in this surf every year.
Guatemala’s south coast is lined by rivers springing from the volcano foothills and rumbling straight south towards the ocean. Probably due to the frequent side tow to the west, their mouths in the past must have become sealed from the east by growing sand peninsulas. Nowadays an immense sand bank represents almost all of Guatemala’s south cost. It has all rivers bend to the right and run parallel to the beach for several kilometers before finally spilling into the sea. These parallel rivers are called the “Canal de Chiquimulilla”. The “canal” zone is covered with mangroves. Land inwards from the canal there are big shrimp fisheries, sugar cane and cattle farms. Towards the sea at the point of the river’s bent there are usually fishermen’s villages. People here also grow the cashew nut, mango and pashte (used to clean your back while taking a shower). There are also a lot of traditional salt industries in the “canal” zone, many of which date from Mayan times.
We rent a little cayuco for Q20 and start paddling, trying to copy local fishermen. In the shallow parts we use a long stake. I throw all of my weight on the stake hangling myself towards its thin point, propelling our rotten boat forward. It is a challenge to pluck the stake from the mud once its length has been used up, without bringing the boat to standstill again. The most interesting feature in Monterrico’s “canales” hinterland are its mangrove forests. Mangrove trees are plants which stand in brackish waters with rising and falling levels. Stilt roots and stilt seeds are the tree’s answer to tides. We park the cayuco at a stilt root and start climbing on the roots (or is it branches?), our bare feet enjoying their firm knotty surface. Climbing the highest roots we find ourselves in the canopy which seems rather boring. None of these trees hold any epiphytes, since the salty breeze from the sea kills any plant that does not reach down to freshwater.
A species of golden-butted ants start becoming excited about us and we decide to retreat into our safe cayuco. Safe may not be an adequate description of this contraption of semi-rotten boards and rusty nails. As we look around to remember the direction back to Monterrico and a sumptuous breakfast, we notice some creatures which appear to be in an even sorrier state than ourselves. It is a school of four-eyed fish (Anableps sp). Apart from their normal fish-eyes, they have a pair of sorry looking eyes on the deck of their heads watching out above the water. These fish use their front fins to dash up mangrove roots and catch insects. They would probably want to conquer land if this hadn’t already been done by ourselves.
We slide back into the open waters of the “canal”. All kinds of herons and egrets stalk through the labyrinth of stilt roots in order to catch fish and shrimp. Parts of the water are being covered by a growing carpet of water lilies and the invasive water hyacinth (Eichhornia) sp. These plants consist of buoyant bulbs which carry salad green leafs and rosy flowers. During the wet season this carpet grows to cover nearly all of the brackish tea called the “canal”. It all but suffocates the rich animal life beyond and brings ferries and boats to a halt. Luckily, in the dry season incoming tides of salty water control the beautiful pest. There is an animal though which booms with the pest:
The glamorous jacana or Lily Trotter. Upon landing on the swimming carpet, the jacanas remain with their wings raised conspicuously for some seconds, displaying the aggressively yellow under parts. Then they fold their wings solemnly and stride away over the leaves with their ridiculously long toes. The females preside over male harems, which build nests and raise the young. Their “queen” goes about and lays eggs into her subordinate’s nests, probably fathered by her favourite harem man. This role reversal is possible because of the protein rich diet which enables the superwoman to lay ever so many eggs. The queens defend their harems fiercely; to this end evolution equipped them with claws on their wings. No other species can invade the jacanas’ territory, as bigger animals would sink through the swimming leaves’ carpet, while smaller ones can be easily chased away.
The sea side of Monterrico has its shares of strange animal life. During rainy season the big Baulé turtles (Dermochelys coriacea, Leatherback) land in order to lay eggs. Locals and tourists patrol the beach at night with contrasting motifs. Local fishermen accompanied by their dogs are usually the first to find a female turtle, revealing itself by a wide track reminiscent of a tanks’. The turtle starts burying a hole in the sand at the high tide line. The big flippers produce a slurring sound at work, and from time to time the reptile rests motionlessly, its eye in tears as it does not accustom the sandy breeze. Dogs bark and tourists take photos, as the turtle finally proceeds to lay a hundred soft Ping-Pong balls. The eggs do not even touch the nest as the “owner” fisherman receives them one by one sacking them for sale. A preferred breakfast all over Guatemala’s cities is fresh orange juice with two turtle eggs. After the discharge the turtle covers the site carefully with sand, hiding a nest that does not contain a single egg. The dogs bark increasingly furious, held back by likewise angry tourists trying to preserve what is left from dinosaur age. The turtle slowly moves back to the sea, vanishing in the surf like a prehistoric warship. The fisherman remains besieged by tourists until a deal is cut and he sells them the eggs. They bring them to CECON (Centro de Estudios Conservacionistas), where they are buried again, but this time well protected until after two months the baby turtles hatch.
Baulé turtles need 10 years to grow up and they migrate up to 3000 km per year. They have warm blood which enables them to inhabit every ocean on our globe. Females return to where they hatched, but first they attract the big males, the biggest of which nearly weigh a ton. In order to get their turn males have to compete for up to an hour for the female without being able to respire. This ensures the female gets semen of a resourceful male. It is mind boggling to see what the poor females have to go through when they finally are ready to lay eggs on the beach. But hey, welcome in our modern world. We all get our share.
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Travel Sites
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