This Is Guernsey

By Tim Earl

THERE was no doubt that seeing a giant anteater was my guests’ most wanted wish on a recent trip to Guyana. What they saw on the savannah close to the Brazilian border was altogether unexpected and wonderful: a female carrying its baby on its back – a rare and exciting sight.

Giant anteaters are weird creatures. Long, pointed snout, feet with toes and nails so long they appear to be disabled in the walking department and a tail like a vast ship’s rudder are a strange combination.

But they do conform to Darwin’s theories of evolution. The toes are to rip open the concrete-like sides of termite mounds and the snout is pushed into the resulting debris and houses a sticky tongue that licks up the ants.

And when the feeding is over, they curl up to sleep and digest their meal, snugly wrapped in the hairy tail.

Anteaters are mammals and the female we saw would also have kept its baby warm while it suckled her teats, drinking its mum’s milk.

I thought this might have been the culmination of a super wildlife tour to the former British Guyana – but it was not.

The following evening, our last in the country, we went out on a boat down the Essequibo River to Parrot Island, one of a thousand in the mouth of this mighty waterway.

There, as the sun set on the day and our tour, we watched as hundreds of Amazon parrots flew in skeins over our heads, finally losing height like falling leaves, to plunge into the mangrove stands where they would roost for the night. ‘Watched and listened’, I should have said, for the air was full of their cries, squawks and whistles.

These parrots pair permanently and call loudly so that branches can be shared for the night.

It was a wonderful way to end my third visit to Guyana.

Highlights had included feeding grass to hand-tame manatees in Georgetown’s botanical gardens (where we also saw three of the world’s rarest birds – blood-coloured woodpeckers, white-bellied piculet and festive parrots) and four giant otters on the Burro Burro River.

What a magical experience it was. We were drifting down the river in canoes paddled by local Amerindians who were our hosts for two nights. No motors, just paddle power took us down the tiny tributary of the Essequibo, watching birds as we went.

On our return, the ‘bow-man’ (who steers the canoe away from sunken trees and hidden sandbanks) suddenly sat bolt upright and signalled to his colleague in the stern. He had heard the whistles of giant river otters ahead.

Silently we rounded a bend and there they were – four fearless faces staring at us. One gave a loud whistle and they dived, coming up under branches where we could see them peering, whistling and barking at us.

One had the tail half of a huge tipicure fish in its mouth, possibly the reason they did not just submerge and disappear.

Giant river otters are the most endangered animal in South America due (as ever) to man – they were hunted almost to extinction for their soft, silky fur and only about 5,000 are left.

We were treated to a cultural evening of entertainment when we returned to the benabs (thatched sleeping shelters) accommodation, where children from Surama village sang songs about how we all have to protect their forests and rivers.

As it happens, our next stop was at Karanambu, where Diane McTurk has been rescuing otters orphaned by hunting for most of her life.

She had one in residence and we delighted to see it being taken to the Rupununi River, where it was fed on fish a local lad had shot with his bow and arrows.

My third visit to the Iwokrama canopy walkway was a pleasure. I slept in a hammock on my first visit there and while the experience was OK for me, I did not think it suitable for our clients, who enjoy rather more comfortable accommodation.

The owners have taken my suggestions on board and built eight double rooms in which next year’s group will be able to sleep (hammocks are available for those who seek a more authentic place to rest).

This will allow us to be on the walkway, 40 metres above the ground, at daybreak, by far the best time to see the occupants of this elevated part of the world.

Scarlet macaws are a highlight here and we were lucky (this year’s group would have come up with goldfish in their mouths had they fallen in) to see seven fly over.

We also found Guianan cock-of-the-rock, a fantastic-looking bird, close to the walkway.

Guyana has a reputation for violence. Indeed, Elaine Van Beek’s daughter-in-law was shot and badly injured in Georgetown in a nasty incident some months ago.

This was a criminal (rather than street-crime) attack, however, and I have never felt at risk there.

My experiences with the country’s wildlife have impressed, though, and it will be with great delight that I will return next October.

With luck, I may get to see the things that have so far eluded me – a jaguar and harpy eagle.

I have been invited to return to Guyana for three weeks to help train their local trackers as wildlife guides capable of looking after the increasing eco-tourist business.

Such a trip requires sponsorship, however, and if any reader has access to funds that could be used in an overseas project to train the residents of a former British colony, please get in touch.

If the local people in Guyana can earn a living out of showing wildlife to tourists, there will be less pressure to hunt the creatures we go to watch or fell the trees in which they live.

Article posted on 5th December, 2009 - 10.00am