Cébaco

Cébaco is a small island in the Gulf of Montijo off the coast of Panama. We dropped anchor there and went ashore in the RHIBs. More accurately, we did not drop anchor. Instead the Amundsen used its Dynamic Positioning system to hold station for the day. This works much better than an anchor. There is no damage to the delicate reefs. The ship stays pointing in the same direction. At anchor a ship will swing on the end of the anchor chain according to the water currents and tides. The weather was warm but overcast and raining. Diane could not risk getting the pot on her arm wet. She had a quiet day on the ship while I went bird watching.

This was not my plan. It just sort of happened. An accidental twitch if you like. The landing began with a walk down the beach. A few people live on the island. Mostly fishermen. There is no commercial ferry to Cébaco. It is seldom visited. After we landed most people wandered up towards the small settlement. I wandered off in the opposite direction and had a wonderful couple of hours wandering along the beach. Tropical rainforest, exotic flora and fauna, wide open beach and not another person in sight. Brilliant.

On the way back, I spotted a vividly coloured heron in a palm tree. It seemed quite calm. Step by step I cautiously moved closer to it. “Bared Throated Tiger Heron. Magnificent.” Came a voice behind me. It was Brendon the ship’s resident bird nerd. Then he asked if I wanted to join the bird watching walk that was just starting. I felt a bit obligated. It turned out to be good wholesome fun. We wandered around various habitat types. Brendon pointed out various birds, all of which he identified with a laser precision and then told us a bit about them. I started to question my eyesight. Normally, I think my eyes are fairly good. Now, I was starting to have doubts. Somebody would point to a tree. Brendon would do his stuff. Everyone would take a few photos. Then we would move on. Well, everyone else would. I was still looking at the tree trying desperately to spot a bird. Eventually I would have spots in front of my eyes. Maybe I needed to go to SpecSavers.

After twenty minutes or so of this, I did start to get my eye in. Just occasionally, I could differentiate a small brown bird from a leaf in the far distance. I even managed a few photographs. Started to quite enjoy myself. Started to become a twitcher.

At the edge of the settlement were some chickens. Diane likes chickens. We used to keep a couple that Diane named Hilda and Violet. Whenever I went into the garden, they would come over to see what I was doing. The dogs thought they were magic. After the initial introductions, I had to explain to the two German Shepards that the chickens were to be looked after, not eaten. This actually worked very well. Dogs and chickens lived outside together. We never had to worry about foxes. But the chickens were magic. At the edge of the field was an electric fence to keep the dogs out of the woods. I had put this up the year before. Only needed to have it switched on for two days before both dogs had learned to stay well clear of it. Now, a year later, the chickens fearlessly hopped through the fence while the dogs stayed well back. They watched in amazement at the magic chickens.

Sapping out of my reverie, I took a picture of a cute chick for Diane. The next day we would sail across the equator and then onwards to deepest, darkest Peru.