Manta…and points north…Ecuador

In our previous eight or so visits to Manta the region has grown on us.  Our first visit, at least six years ago, did not impress. But, as we began to explore further afield, we found more and more interesting places and sights that have given us a broader understanding of Ecuador’s coastal region.   

Having explored Manta, Montecristi—25 minutes inland; the southern coast—down to Agua Blanca, a fascinating archaeological site of the Mateño culture, which was probably the first people to see Francisco Pizarro’s ships sailing south toward Perú; and fishing villages in between, where the people survive on the sea’s bounty, much as they have done for millennia—we decided to head north and explore an area about which we knew nothing.

When I was here in April 2015 with my good friend, Mary Jo McConahay, we chanced on an excellent driver, Daniel Rojas, and I left with his email address.  Email exchanges confirmed that Daniel would be waiting for us outside the port’s gate and so he was.  Turns out he knows the area well and an uncertain day became a real treat. 

The highway north, except for a short stretch, is excellent—divided for a good part of the way.  To my surprise, once out of greater Manta we began seeing small farms with vegetables, corn, rice, and even young fruit orchards—either oranges or lemons.  Daniel turned off the highway onto a road in some need of repair but it cut straight through farm land—mostly rice—and we came upon a man in water up to his knees planting the thin stalks.  Further along there were fields that had already been harvested and others close to that point.  Opposite the planter a small rice processing plant’s machinery was rumbling, shooting out the husks into a 5m high pile and short-grain rice into bags at the other end, under cover. 

The husks—high in protein--were being shoveled into large sacks and loaded onto a truck. One 

worker told me that they were destined for chicken farms in Bahia, where we were headed. 

In contrast to the southern coast, which is almost all brown desert, this area is mostly green.  The deciduous Cebo tree revealed different micro-climates:  just north of Manta the trees had no leaves, but another 25 km. north, they were green and gorgeous. Even the trunks turn green!

Bahia sits on a peninsula at the mouth of the Rio Chone, with one side on the Pacific and the other along the river.  A 2 km. bridge, completed in 2011 by Ecuador’s Army Corps of Engineers, spans the river, which becomes an estuary rich in marine life.   

Across the bridge and 8 km. further north we arrived at our destination: the Corazon (heart) and Fragatas (Frigates) Islands Wildlife Refuge.  Isla Corazon is the village where the community has taken responsibility for preserving the eco-system of this part of the estuary.  They offer boat rides, usually in flat-bottomed boats propelled by oars along the shore and across the river to mangrove- covered Corazon Island which, under the community’s protection, has grown since 1998 from 53 hectares to over 350.

Partly because of the low tide and partly because of the effects of El Niño, the shore on both sides ranged from 10 to 20m wide.  A mangrove “tunnel” across Corazon Island is passable with high water but impossible on our visit. 

We opted for their one boat with a motor because sitting in that low, shallow boat for an hour was not physically possible.  It meant we couldn’t get as close to shore as we might otherwise have—but it also meant significantly less possibility of going into the drink with all my camera gear!

Don Alfredo was our knowledgeable guide and his sharp eye brought crabs and birds to our attention that we would have missed.  On Corazon Island they have constructed a 250m. boardwalk into the mangroves and low water meant seeing many crabs we would otherwise have missed.  Along the shore of the mainland and the island, several varieties of birds—many known, others a first sighting, kept my camera busy.  The most interesting sight—never before seen in my life:  pelicans roosting in trees. There were also ibises, egrets, herons, and 2-3 other varieties that I must identify.  Don Alfredo knew all of them but I had left my journal in the car.

Back at the village we headed to Bahia and a much-needed refreshment.  After trying several restaurants, we ended up at the new (6 months old) mall where the food court had mostly Ecuadorean vendors and one KFC. We chose a yogurt stand that made milkshakes with local fruits (peach, mora, strawberry and banana). 

Our thirst quenched, we headed back to Manta and a date with free Wi-Fi at a beachfront restaurant near the port.

I highly recommend Daniel Rojas as a knowledgeable driver in Manta.  If you are going to be in the city, write and I will send you his email address.  Current charge is $20.00/hour, which we thought a bargain after the $40/hour price in Panama City.  One reason:  gasoline in Ecuador is $1.49/gallon.

The Panama Canal—North to South

 This is our fifth traversal of the canal since 2005—well, David’s 6^th; he was here while in the Canadian Navy 60 years ago.  It is always a thrill and today was perfect—hot and sunny with a slight breeze.  Most impressive were the major advances in construction of the new locks since we were here a year ago, when we did a cross-country trip to Colon to see the new locks on the Atlantic side.

Sunrise at Colon, before entering Gatun Locks

The commentator who joined the ship before we entered Gatun Locks and is provided by the Panama Canal Authority left much to be desired, particularly in his avoidance of any remotely controversial subject.  Early in the day he mentioned that he had been asked why the flags are at half-staff. 

Approaching Gatun with a cruise ship on the left and a freighter on the right.

Today is January 9, Martyrs Day and a national holiday in Panama.  It commemorates the 21 Panamanians who died in confrontations with U.S. soldiers on this day in 1964.  The history, briefly, is that in January 1963 President John Kennedy issued a directive that both the U.S. and Panamanian flags should be flown at all non-military sites in the Canal Zone.  CZ authorities dragged their feet in implementing this order and, after Kennedy’s death, the CZ governor essentially ignored it. So, in January, about 200 students from Panama’s top high school marched into the CZ with a Panamanian flag and attempted to raise it at Balboa High School, the CZ school for U.S. residents.  Confrontation led to skirmish, which led to riots.  In the end 25 were killed, four of them US soldiers.  Most observers consider this event the beginning of the end of US control over the canal zone and canal.  Thirteen years later, Panama’s president, Omar Torrijos and President Jimmy Carter signed the historic Panama Canal Treaty.  At midnight on December 31, 1999, the canal zone and canal reverted to Panamanian control and sovereignty.

Our commentator’s answer to the question about flags at half-staff was, “It’s a memorial day.” That’s when I knew he is not Panamanian!

His second gaffe was to assert that the “official name” of Culebra Cut—the continental divide—is “Galliard Cut.”  Now, Gaillard was one of the most important figures in the construction of the canal and has a deserved place in history.  Panamanians, however, call it “Culebra Cut” and that’s its contemporary name.

Our passage was without incident although later than originally expected.  We had originally planned to enter Gatun before sunrise but the captain announced the night before that we would not enter until 7 a.m. Result is that we will not anchor until about 12 hours later, which means that we won’t be doing any sightseeing today. 

Culebra Cut in 2009 and 2016.  It has been widened to accommodate the larger ships that will use the new locks.

The photos above will give you an idea of how much progress has been made in the last six years.  We last sailed through the canal exactly two years ago today and it is impressive how far they have come in completing the new locks and related construction.  The locks, which will be able to handle bigger-than-Panamax ships are now scheduled to open in April.  (Panamax ships are built to the maximum length and width possible to fit in the current locks.)

In Pedro Miguel lock.

Puerto Limon, Costa Rica

Unlike the rest of Costa Rica, with its overwhelmingly mestizo population, Puerto Limon and other towns and villages on Costa Rica’s Atlantic coast is largely Afro-Latin American.  Most are third and fourth generation descendants of Jamaicans who were brought in to work on the banana plantations.  Many, in the early 20^th century, worked on the Panama Canal, then returned to Costa Rica.  As a result, English is as common as Spanish in Puerto Limon.

In previous visits we have seen most of the interesting PoIs in the area:  a boat trip up the Tortuguera River where wild life is abundant; a stop at the Del Monte banana processing plant, where we watched mostly Nicaraguan workers cleaning, sorting, and packing bananas; Playa Blanca, the prettiest beach in the area, and Veraguas National Park, one of Costa Rica’s 25 national parks—this one with paths through the rain forest, a suspended cable car and a zip line. 

This time we learned of a new rainforest park, Brisas de la Jungla (Jungle Breezes), which has a well-maintained, 1 km. path through the forest and a zip-line with several platforms en route. We were lucky in that we had two guides—Gerardo and Graciela—both well educated and informed about the flora and fauna. 

While waiting for Gerardo to finish with a previous group, another staff member showed me the tiny, poisonous frogs for which Costa Rica is famous.  They are shy creatures so capturing one—and one good shot—was an achievement but was helped by the guide capturing a red frog and bringing it over for me to shoot.

The path through the forest, like the zip-line, begins at the top of a hill and our wonderful driver, Augustus, drove Gerardo and us up to the start of the trail.  Gerardo provided us with sturdy walking sticks and we were joined by Graciela, who had finished with a group and was on her way down.  Between the two guides, we saw sloths, monkeys, spiders, bullet ants (they’re big!) more frogs, and a small delicate, but poisonous snake—most of which we would have missed if we had been on our own.

Back at the welcome centre a large plate of sliced watermelon was waiting—a most welcome antidote to the extreme heat and humidity that had left both of us soaked through.   

   

Augustus returned us to the ship, dropping us as close as he could get to the pier.  We will look for him the next time!