Cruise around Costa Rica and
Nicaragua brings out some inner
personas
By Jay Solmonson,
Insidebayarea.com
IN A COSTA RICAN rainforest
teeming with wildlife and
overrun with vegetation, you'd
think I'd be able to call upon
my inner monkey to swing into
action.
But nature is so unpredictable —
as are my inner animals, who
seemed to be singing the praises
of Chicken Little as I perched
on a metal platform 100 feet
above the forest floor.
Maybe if my wife and teenage
niece weren't right behind me
with a "just jump" look in their
eyes, I wouldn't have conjured
my best Tarzan yell and flown
over the tree tops on a zip-line
ride that would have made
Indiana Jones smile.
I'd been assured by our zip-line
guides that the vultures
circling just above our heads
had little chance of dining on
the tourist special, as the
lines we were zipping on were
strong enough to hold a gorilla.
And that was a relief, as we
were a well-fed group of 45
sailing the Pacific Ocean side
of Costa Rica and Nicaragua on a
week-long cruise on Lindblad
Expeditions' Sea Voyager.
Whizzing through the canopy of a
private reserve may have been
our favorite adrenaline rush of
the week, but not our only
thrill while cruising the waters
of two Central American
countries of remarkably diverse
landscapes, wildlife and
culture.
Our Costa Rican cruise aboard
the 174-foot-long Sea Voyager
was a wilderness-focused week of
rainforest hikes, snorkeling,
kayaking, swimming and Zodiac
cruising. And with locally grown
naturalists always in the lead,
even my overworked Worry Wart
could take the
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week off.
Although, WW did pop up in the
Curu Wildlife Refuge at the end
of our first full-day's forest
hike.
We were crossing a hanging
bridge over a river at the same
time as an eight-foot-long tiger
rat snake. While we were
checking our pulse, the snake
slithered ahead of us and into
the trees to a symphony of
clicking cameras. Before we had
run into the snake, we'd seen
herds of red-legged land crabs,
several coatimundis, dozens of
squirrels, monkeys, lizards, a
few giant spiders and flocks of
birds. Speaking of symphonies,
stopping in silence to listen to
the forest near the beginning of
our hike was like listening to a
first violin tuning up an
orchestra. It was a jungle of
noise lead by a bug. The cicava
is a flying insect that filled
the palm of my 5-foot niece's
hand. In harmony with thousands
of its brethren, it used a
built-in abdominal drum set to
sound like a 737 warming up for
takeoff.
To the delight of our younger
shipmates, the afternoon was
more about the good life than
wildlife. They seemed happy to
dump their binoculars for a
bottle of sunscreen and to hit
the beach for swimming, boogie
boarding and matching soccer
skills with their Costa Rican
guides.
The following day of nature
hikes, kayaking, swimming and
snorkelingended with a Zodiac
ride back to the ship under a
flaming sunset that was still
fired-up when waiters brought
trays of pia coladas to the top
deck. The teenagers, our niece
included, looked like they were
ready to break in their first
debauch until the adults sorted
out the Shirley Temple tray from
the R-rated one.
After a day of wildlife and fun,
everyone seemed happy to kick
back, including our niece, who
was "kicking it" with several
teenage boys. From then on my
inner warden was on duty.
Thankfully, on this small,
well-run ship, there was little
to worry about. Although the
young cruisers were quick to
make friends, slipping out of
their parents' rooms to hang out
together in the ship's lounge,
nothing unfortunate happened (I
hope.)
And nobody missed the dinner
bell the night that a Costa
Rican buffet spilled over with a
traditional beef soup, shredded
sirloin of beef simmered in
tomato sauce, black beans, rice,
fried plantains and tortillas.
The following morning we docked
at Coco Beach, boarded motor
coaches and headed to the
highlands of Guanacaste and
Rincon de la Vieja National
Park. The park lies in the
shadow of a volcano. It is
loaded with volcanic hot springs
and boiling, bubbling mud ponds.
The wildlife is diverse;
hundreds of species of birds and
mammals such as deer, monkeys
and a jaguar or two share the
forest.
Although our hike through the
overgrown forest stirred up my
inner explorer, we didn't see
any big cats until we arrived at
the Hacienda Guachipelin where a
well-fed mouser guarded the
front porch and our lunch.
The hacienda is a day-trippers
retreat. City slickers come to
see a 3,706-acre working ranch
in action. It's known for its
horses and nature trails. Rugged
ranch hands swagger around,
lifting greenhorns onto horses
for a trail ride along the side
of the volcano. My niece and her
new friends gave the ride high
marks. It was her first time on
a horse and she seemed to love
it.
When I complained about the
rock-hard ride, she called me
Uncle Bonybutt and trotted
ahead. I don't have an inner
cowboy.
We were just a tad saddle sore
when we awoke the next morning
off the coast of Nicaragua. As
our cruise had a lot of young
explorers aboard, Lindblad
scheduled our first stop on
shore at a small museum, where a
group of children greeted us
with folkloric dances. Our
ship's children liked it and the
grandparents they were towing
along got all mushy.
After the show we boarded
pepanos, a kind of tricycle
rickshaw, for a ride to the
bustling downtown market of
Rivas, Nicaragua.
Conditions for tourists in
Nicaragua are said to be
improving all the time, but it's
not yet the smooth sailing for
travelers found in Costa Rica.
In the smiles of the children we
met and in the welcome we
received from our Nicaraguan
hosts, the history of military
occupation, dictatorship,
revolution and poverty didn't
show up. But unlike in Costa
Rica, it was obvious we were in
a third world country.
The downtown was stuffed with
small stands and crawling with
local shoppers bargaining for
everything under the sun.
Alongside the open air stalls,
under cover of darkness, was a
maze of back-alley shops
featuring items and food only a
local could love.
Thankfully, our pepano driver
followed us through the
labyrinth of shops, directing us
to our two-seater when we
emerged into the light.
From there we were ferried to
the Cathedral of San Pedro for a
short tour of the colonial
church. After the tour, we
lunched at the Hacienda Amayo,
owned by a prominent Nicaraguan
family. The hacienda sits on the
shore of Lake Nicaragua, the
10th largest freshwater lake in
the world. From the shore,
Maderas and Conception volcanoes
seem to launch themselves out of
the waters that contain the only
freshwater sharks in the world.
With that news, we skipped a dip
before hitting the buffet. After
a traditional Nicaraguan lunch
of chicken and beef, guacamole,
beans and tortillas, a group of
local children showed up ready
for a baseball game against the
gringos. You'd think their
20-something-to-one victory
would have satisfied them, but
the locals finished off their
guests with a soccer game where
the outcome was never in doubt.
It all ended with a piata party,
where once again the local
children were a long leap ahead
of their guests when the piata
hit ground spilling candy around
the hacienda's courtyard.
We slept through the 50-mile
cruise north that night,
arriving at Playas del Coco,
Costa Rica the next morning. A
humpback whale greeted us before
breakfast with an aerobatic
display, breaching several times
off the port bow.
We dropped anchor at secluded
Zaportal beach where we kayaked,
swam and took a
naturalist-guided nature walk
through a tropical dry forest.
In the afternoon we docked
offshore of Tamarindo Beach, a
jazzed-up town where spacey
surfers and local fishermen
share a downtown crammed with
restaurants, bars, hotels, shops
and construction equipment.
The happening town fronts a wide
and flat beach; the packed sand
is hard enough for easy
strolling and a great place to
watch the teenagers take their
first surfing lessons. Just
about the time our niece rode
her first wave into the beach, a
rouge cloud blew in sporting
enough thunder and lightning to
scare the scales off Neptune.
We dropped the board, made a run
for the Zodiacs, and took a
quick cruise to the mother ship.
We cruised through the night
about 130 nautical miles north.
In the morning, we anchored near
Manuel Antonio National Park
where some of us took our early
morning zip-line tour.
That afternoon, we hiked the
park's Sloth Valley trail where
we found crab-eating raccoons,
monkeys, sac-winged bats and the
trail's namesake, a three-toed
sloth. A passing naturalist
tipped us off to a boa
constrictor sighting. We found
it stretched out along a limb of
a tree just off the trail.
Apparently it was sleeping off a
meal, which accounted for the
bulge in its tummy. Some
slow-footed mammal had seen its
last day in Costa Rica and so
had we.
But not before our final dinner
of filet mignon, Argentinean
wine and a slice of chocolate
decadence. My wife and I shared
the meal with each other; our
niece abandoned us mid-meal for
her new boyfriends. It was time
for my inner warden to start the
night shift.
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