Barro Colorado Island, Panama Canal, Panama
Today’s early morning rain showers gave way to sunshine by the time we finished breakfast. Slipping into Zodiacs, we made the short journey to Barro Colorado Island—the largest forested island in the Panama Canal.
Some of us stayed in the boat for a journey around the island’s thick canopy. The rest of us—after being greeted by a baby caiman near the shore—piled on the bug spray and hit the trails. It was perhaps our most rewarding day yet. Almost immediately, we spotted movement in the canopy. Through the leaves hung a Squirrel monkey, bracing himself with one foot as he selectively pulled fruit from the tree.
It was hard to move on—and lucky we didn’t. Suddenly, crashing through the rainforest came a troupe of Spider monkeys. How many? There could have been a dozen. So caught up in the moment, we forgot to start counting. At least three were females, each with a baby clinging to their back or side. In the distance, Howler monkeys called. But we wouldn’t catch a glimpse of them until after standing—mesmerized—by a three-toed tree sloth hanging from a tree on the trail. He was close enough to touch. The other group spotted the same species just a little closer, but this one had a baby clinging to its hair.
Back on the ship for lunch, every table was abuzz with the morning’s sightings. Besides monkeys, some of us saw a trogon pair near an Aztec ant nest, sleeping white-lined sac-winged bats and hundreds of leaf-cutter ants.
After lunch, we made our way out to the deck for the remainder of our journey through the Panama Canal—looking forward to our final night aboard the Sea Voyager but sad that our journey was almost over.
Today’s early morning rain showers gave way to sunshine by the time we finished breakfast. Slipping into Zodiacs, we made the short journey to Barro Colorado Island—the largest forested island in the Panama Canal.
Some of us stayed in the boat for a journey around the island’s thick canopy. The rest of us—after being greeted by a baby caiman near the shore—piled on the bug spray and hit the trails. It was perhaps our most rewarding day yet. Almost immediately, we spotted movement in the canopy. Through the leaves hung a Squirrel monkey, bracing himself with one foot as he selectively pulled fruit from the tree.
It was hard to move on—and lucky we didn’t. Suddenly, crashing through the rainforest came a troupe of Spider monkeys. How many? There could have been a dozen. So caught up in the moment, we forgot to start counting. At least three were females, each with a baby clinging to their back or side. In the distance, Howler monkeys called. But we wouldn’t catch a glimpse of them until after standing—mesmerized—by a three-toed tree sloth hanging from a tree on the trail. He was close enough to touch. The other group spotted the same species just a little closer, but this one had a baby clinging to its hair.
Back on the ship for lunch, every table was abuzz with the morning’s sightings. Besides monkeys, some of us saw a trogon pair near an Aztec ant nest, sleeping white-lined sac-winged bats and hundreds of leaf-cutter ants.
After lunch, we made our way out to the deck for the remainder of our journey through the Panama Canal—looking forward to our final night aboard the Sea Voyager but sad that our journey was almost over.
