The 2023 Brazil Journals, Chapter Twenty-three

A Correction:

 

I feel the need to correct this post.   I got the jaguar generations mixed up.

 

The grandmother jaguar is named Patricia and we did not see her until the next day.    She is the mother of Medrosa, who is the mother of Marcela.   Our guide Octavio calls Patricia the greatest mother of the region.

 

I will correct the actual post when I have time.

 

I know this doesn’t make any difference to you, but it does to me and is  pertinent to events to come in a future post.   My next post will introduce you to Patricia.

 

What about Ti?   She is from another line of jaguars.

Chapter Twenty-three

Jaguar Generations

 

A ship in a harbor is safe, 

but it is  not what ships are built for.

—John A. Shedd

 

 

It is so hot when I walk out of my room to go to lunch that I feel like I’m stepping into a convection oven.   I spent the last hour trying to cool down from the morning boat ride and now I'm in the heat again.

 

Now, heading to lunch, I am wearing a tee shirt with a “cooling towel” given to us by Marg Wood.    The towel is made of some material that is not terry cloth and is stiff as a board when dry.  It’s wet now and wrapped it around the back of my neck with the ends tucked under the front of my tee and I don’t give a hoot about how I look.  It is serving its purpose quite well.

 

In consideration of the extreme heat, Octavio sets three o’clock as the afternoon boat time.   This makes a lot of sense not only because the light is too harsh for photography earlier but also because the animals most likely will be sleeping in the shade and difficult to find.

 

However, some animals hide better than others and 45 minutes after we launch, we find new jaguars.  It is Medrosa and her young cub, asleep on a quiet part of the lagoon waters.

The cub is at left.

 

This marks an occasion to remember:  Ti, seen this morning, is the mother of Medrosa, so the cub is Ti’s  grandson.   AND!   Our most frequently seen jaguar, the two-year-old Marcela, is the daughter of Medrosa, so the cub is Marcela’s half-brother.

 

To make it easy:

 

Ti, who is mother of

Medrosa,  who is mother of 

Marcela.

 

Three generations of jaguars today.

If you're wondering how they can be identified, Octavio has a book with photos and descriptions of each jaguars sighted in the area (and perhaps other areas).   They use the "necklace" around the throat, other spot formations, injuries, etc. to tell them apart.

 

So far today, we caught a glimpse of a male, didn’t get photos of two males way far off in the vegetation, saw two males asleep on the river bank, saw Marcela, saw Ti, and now Medrosa and her cub.  Nine different jaguars today.

 

The cub moves to a very photogenic spot and watches the paparazzi for a while, then goes back to sleep.

 

The paparazzi are hot, but entranced.   The umbrellas come out as we wait.

 

A couple of the boats are associated with a crew filming for the Brazilian government.   I think it’s supposed to be some tourism-oriented film.   In practical terms for the rest of us, that boat gets closest to the animals and occasionally moves in front of some boats, much to the ……ummmm….dismay of the passengers.

 

Watch this videos to get an idea:

This is a cell phone video.   The shaking and jerky movements are caused by my left shoulder "ratcheting" as I move.

Eventually, we leave Medrosa and her cub and scout around for anything that comes our way.

 

On a sandy beach on the main river channel, we stop to watch a couple of large-billed terns.   One has a fish and can’t seem to get another tern to take it.   

 

He carries it around, drops it back into the water, retrieves it, walks around, tries to swallow it, drops it back into the water, picks it up again and in the end, before we leave, is thrashing it wildly.

This is a dove.   I got bored watching the silly tern.

And a pied lapwing.

Just swallow it, already.

 

We go back into the lagoon.

 

Medrosa has left her cub to go hunting.   No doubt she told him to stay put, but he wanders to where she disappeared.

 

As we leave, he is still staring after her.

We move through  the lagoon, heading for the main river and home.

 

 

The jabiru are much more willing to pose this evening than they were this morning and I finally get the photo I’ve been wanting—silhouettes against the sunset sky.

 

This evening, my throat feels a little scratchy.   I wonder if it’s because of the heat blasting into my nose or if I’m catching cold.

 

Early to bed and some vitamin C for me.