Goodbye IPBio and Iporanga!
Our final weeks at the reserve were busy ones. Morgane was
working nonstop to finish her second video and she entered a kind of sphere of
solitude, wherein if you tried to interrupt her during a key editing phase you
were in for a stern talking to. Meanwhile, my last week’s saw me venture back
into the forest to help another volunteer with a tree inventory project. I will
get back to this later though.
What really made our last week’s special was a visit from
professor Ariovaldo of UNESP University. Ariovaldo is a world-renowned bat
specialist who, along with his team, came to stay at the reserve for a few days
to monitor bat populations within the Atlantic Forest. This gave us volunteers
a unique opportunity to see the elusive creatures up close and even help with
the research process. Each evening we would setup a series of fine nets
positioned in various locations across the reserve. These nets would capture
passing bats and then Ariovaldo and his team would take them to the lab for
samples, record various measurements, and tag them. We mainly captured a
variety of different fruit bats, which is not uncommon. Ariovaldo explained
fruits bats have less reliance on echolocation as they are not hunting moving
prey, and thus they are worse at detecting the nets. Additionally, his team was
also able to capture a few different species of vampire bat later on in the
night after the rest of us had gone to bed. I’m not sure how many they managed
to capture over the course of the week but they were definitely batting above
average, and so on their final night we had a massive barbeque to celebrate
their success. This gave us the opportunity to discover Ariovaldo’s also a
great chef… and pretty decent at beer pong too. Overall, it was a fantastic
time and I think we all gained a new appreciation for bats thanks to Ariovaldo
and his team.
Now if you’re like me you probably had not heard of
Cananéia, but within the state of Sao Paulo it’s a popular beach destination.
Situated only 3 hours from Iporanga we were both very excited at the prospect
of a beach getaway. But our excitement grew larger still when I researched
everything else Cananéia had to offer in producing a tourism pamphlet for
IPBio. So as our time in the region grew short and for fear of lonely demise,
we decided it wise to heed Imran’s advice and take a few days off work to explore
the neighboring beach town. Plus I mean I had to validate my own research to
make sure my tourism pamphlet was accurate. You know, for science reasons n’
stuff.Two of the other volunteers, Grant and Tess, decided to join
us and share in the Cananéia adventure, which did not disappoint.
After a series of nonsensical zigzags our third bus arrived
in the now off peak, sleepy beach town of Cananéia. Initial impressions:
quaint, but no actual beach in sight. I think this initial observation would
have been a little more problematic but in all honesty Morgane and I was just
so overjoyed our room at the hostel had air conditioning that nothing else
really mattered. After getting settled we set out on the town, which we
quickly learned is really just two main streets running parallel to the
seafront. I say seafront because that’s really all it is, a stretch of docks
with fishing boats galore. Now this may not sound all that charming, and
truthfully the town itself is nothing to rave about, but where Cananéia really
shines is its two islands just off the coast, Ilha do Cardoso and Ilha do
Comprida.
Both of the islands are unique in their own right. Comprida
is a large barrier island boasting a 72km stretch of beautiful beach. Aside
from its interior, which has become a popular place for vacation homes, the
island has seen little development and maintains a natural feel. It also offers
a variety of activities for tourists with Jet Ski rentals available, inland ATV
tours and lots more. Unlike Comprida, Cardoso has seen absolutely zero
development as it has been declared a state park, and thus aside from one small
local community nobody else can live on the island.
Anxious to see both we decided on Cardoso first and embarked
early the next morning. As we boated across the narrow pass towards the island
we were shocked to discover that perhaps the most wonderful thing about
Cananéia is not the islands themselves, but the waterway in between. For its
waters are not ruled by boat, but rather dolphin. Now I know I have a tendency
to exaggerate at times, but believe me when I say that never in my life have I
seen, nor do I expect to see again, the quantity of dolphins that occupy the
waters around Ilha do Cardoso. We saw close to 100 dolphins over the course of
the day sometimes encountering pods of 15 plus at a time. They weren’t shy
either, when we reached the island we immediately entered the water and after a
little coaxing via Morgane’s incredible dolphin call (if you haven’t heard it,
it’s extremely authentic) we were fast encircled within an arms length. It was
an incredible experience and something I really wish to relive someday.
The rest of the afternoon saw the four of us trekking along
the empty beaches of Cardoso, taking breaks along the way to swim in its
tranquil waters. For lunch we went to a restaurant run by the local community
where we were treated to a buffet of fish and all sorts of amazing food. In
particular though this lunch gave us our first taste of Cataia. Cataia is a
tree endemic to Cananéia and its leaves are infused with cachaça to create a
caipirinha so wonderful that it has found a place within my personal hall of
fame for greatest alcoholic beverages. Morgane claimed to love the drink as
well despite continuously spilling her glass. Either the booze went to her head
pretty quickly, or she just wanted to feed the bees – because they loved it. By
the end of our meal her spillage had attracted an entire hives worth… we even
had to change tables because our initial seats fell victim to the swarm.
Seriously though you really cannot blame them, the stuff is awesome. We made
sure to bring a couple bottles back with us, although I’m sad to report one has
already broken during our travels so fingers crossed its twin survives the rest
of the journey.
Our next day took us to Comprida and I wish I could offer a
more telling description of the island but unfortunately we were met with
intense torrential rainfall so everything was shut down for the most part.
Aside from a very wavy swim in the stormy ocean (which was awesome), we really
did not get the opportunity to explore more of the island. The next day, we
packed up and made our way back to Iporanga early the next morning.
I continued working on the tree inventory. Basically we were
tasked with marking trees along the reserves trails based on certain criteria
and to take measurements of height and width, as well as leaf and bark samples.
All things considered it was a pretty fun experience and decently hard work.
You quickly realize the level of biodiversity in just a small patch of
rainforest is astounding, and as a result there are a LOT of different trees to
record.
Our final weekend in Iporanga was fast coming to a close and
ideas were circulating in regards to how we should see the town off. There was
some talk of returning to the local club one last time, but I think we all had
grown a little sick of the place, and so we decided the best thing was to
embark on one final cave expedition to Timimina. This cave is buried far deeper
within the state park than any of the others we had previously explored. As a
result we were forced to take a 5:30am start as even getting close to the
entrance takes approximately 3 hours of driving. Admittedly, Morgane and I were
a little more than reluctant to get up when our alarms went off early that
Sunday but Imran assured us Timimina is a must-see. Putting our faith in him,
we caved under pressure, and we’re so glad we did.
After a short-lived nap along the fractured rainforest
roadway I was awoken by a slap courtesy of Imran to signify our arrival. From
there the real trek began as we pushed into the dense jungle. It’s amazing
because after multiple hikes into the rainforest you come to realize that each
region, although close in proximity and despite looking similar from afar, is
different than the last. This particular hike was another solid 6 hours, and
saw us slashing through bamboo thickets and hugging rocky cliffs. Then
suddenly, and seemingly out of nowhere the façade of Timimina comes into view,
and it’s enormous. In fact, the cave is so big you really cannot comprehend its
size until you’re standing in it. Comprised of three distinct chambers it’s not
so much a cave but more of a fortress.
The first chamber is referred to as the hanging garden. It’s
essentially a kind of underpass where the cave roof has collapsed due to
gradual erosion. As a result, this section has a massive natural skylight that
has allowed the jungle to persist within the cave itself. It’s a pretty unique
sight because one moment you’re encased in dirt and rock and the next you find
yourself once again within the clutches of the rainforest. It forces you to
realize the forest’s ability to reclaim territory and in many ways this chamber
can be viewed as a microcosm of the Atlantic Forest as a whole. In the sense
that, although today the Atlantic Forest occupies only 7% of the space it once
did, this small area is predominantly still secondary reclaimed forest. Sad as
it may be that so much of this great forest has been destroyed I find solace in
the idea that it can rejuvenate itself to such an extent in a relatively short
period of time. Perhaps in the future, if Brazil can transition its economy to
be less reliant on natural resources, and if it continues to reinforce its
curriculum of environmental education, the rainforest may regain its former
beauty.
The second chamber of the cave is a little more intense and
saw us ascending to a beautiful lookout, which offers an amazing view of the
surrounding forest. Additionally, throwing rocks off of the lookout was quite
interesting because you can hear their echo the entire way down. This gives you
good idea of what it would be like if you slipped and fell. Namely, a bone
crunching, life-ending experience, that would certainly leave you mangled
somewhere between a rock and a hard place.
The final chamber is located deep underground and it can
only be accessed by pushing upstream against the force of the cave’s
subterranean river. In doing this you get a taste of Timimina’s unique
ecosystem: blind fish, pale crustaceans, and obviously more giant spiders. As
well, one of the caves main stalactites has eroded in such a way that its tip
resembles a showerhead and it even drops water at a steady pace. Finally, we
arrived at a kind of island nestled within the cave’s river where we could push
no further. It’s at this point we took a moment to rest, turn our headlights
off, and vibe in the darkness. An experience so eerily peaceful you can’t help
but remember it.
The hike home was an emotional one, as we knew it was to be
our last. It was also a pretty eventful one. We passed a tree that smelled like
garlic bread, got held up by a stubborn pit viper that wouldn’t concede safe
passage, and accidently surprised a couple locals who had stopped for a
tactical pee in the woods. Finally, we arrived back at the car and headed home.
As we pushed forward into the night we were greeted by a terrific display of
distant heat lighting and an orange moon so large and piercing that it all
seemed kind of staged. It was the perfect send off, and one that only Mother
Nature could have coordinated.
The final days saw us packing up, preparing for our travels
ahead, and saying our goodbyes. We had a closing dinner at the fish restaurant,
which gave us the opportunity to say thank you to all the staff and the other
volunteers who made our time in Iporanga so special. It was an evening filled
with wonderful food, lots of laughter, and good times all round.
Written by: Matthew Dunlop, Volunteer from Canada
Written by: Matthew Dunlop, Volunteer from Canada
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