Let’s explore some more.

The last couple of days, we have been sailing from isolated cove to isolated cove on the Pacific Coast of Costa Rica, each time anchoring in total solitude. Until we reached touristy Playas del Coco. There we decided to join a diving excursion to the Islas Catalina in search of the Giant Pacific Manta. In our small company of 6 (4 tourists and 2 dive guides) we met brave Cally from Seattle: a young vaccinated nurse who had managed to take 7 days off before having to go back to her present duty of ensuring people that no, she was not about to inject a microchip in their arm, and yes she had taken the vaccine herself and yes it is the right and only thing to do. Deep sigh.

So let’s go diving! Against all odds really, as it is still “Papagayo Wind” season over here in Northern Costa Rica, meaning that “the wind can howl for days on end, gusting at speeds that rival a hurricane. The ocean temperature drops and whitecaps can be seen on the waves for miles around. In short, it is weather that can keep you inside even on the sunniest of days!”

But we went out to play anyway and the dive shop people just made us sign the waiver. Should we perish, they knew who to call. After an hour long bumpy and wild ride in the professional RIB (=rigid inflatable boat) we arrived at the Catalina rocks where frigate birds nest and which are therefore covered in guano.

To keep warm in the choppy white capped Pacific, we had to wriggle into two different 3,2 millimeter wet suits in layers on top of each other. And once in the water I was still tempted to pee in them in order to activate some central heating. I didn’t though, since it were rental suits.

Once 20 meter below the surface, we couldn’t see much in the 50 shades of green. Sometimes colorful flashes lit up right in front of our eyes. These flashes appeared to be the brighter parts of fish swimming by. 

All of a sudden, our dive guide banged on her tank to attract our attention and made the sign for “shark” (=holding your hand up and straight against your forehead). And sure enough, there right in front of us ( a bit further away and we wouldn’t have spotted a thing) in the green murky soup aka the Pacific Ocean close to rocks and during Papagayo Wind Season, the white tip reef shark appeared out of nowhere and disappeared again like a ghost. 

I am pretty sure that too many of these kind of ocean experiences made our prehistoric ancestors decide to up and go and check out tierra firma instead, all those millions of years ago. And that’s exactly what we decided to do over a week ago. Still in search of reptiles and amphibians we booked a jungle night hike on land. Were it not for Covid, My Captain would have hugged Gregory, our very knowledgeable guide, more than once. Gregory really delivered. We spotted 3 different species of snakes, several mating red eyed tree frogs, cicada eating spiders, orange light emitting click beetles, and a gladiator frog striking a pose in our torch lights.

The next morning, all spiked up by the night before, we paid a taxicab to drive us the 30 km to Rainmaker National Park and wait there 3 hours while we were searching for snakes and creepy crawlies again in Attenborough county.

Feeling fulfilled again , we returned to our cabdriver who was patiently waiting at the entrance of the National Park. The good man had barely turned the ignition key when a Very Agitated Captain slammed him on the shoulder, his one foot already outside the car door he had flung open while shouting STOP STOP SNAKE SNAKE! SERPIENTE!

And sure enough , right there in front of us, a 2 meter long northern bird snake AKA mica pajarera was calmly slithering through the grass towards the pond, totally ignoring My Captain’s frantic hopping around. (We had to send the pic to Carolina so that she could tell us what we had seen. The cabdriver had no clue.)

The fact that our autopilot is still erratic, (in Marina Pez Vela, they did help us out but not quite), the fact that Costa Rica is double the cost of Panama so that the budget will need to be squeezed from now on, the fact that we feel the need to skip Nicaragua and Guatemala because of Covid, the fact of Covid itself, the fact that we start missing family and friends, all of these troublesome facts still find their counterweight in the journey itself and in Mother Nature’s Many Marvels. 

So allow us once again to applaud the dolphins as they are always happy to race with O2 in a joyful display of speed, power and grace. Their play puts a huge grin on our faces, no matter how many times we see it happening.
Which is more often than not.