One
highlight of any trip to this place is the mandatory visit to the Macaw Clay
Lick. This is an exposed clay bank of the river where hundreds of parrots and
scores of macaws come to eat clay. That's right. Macaws are seed predators:
they open fruits, break open the seeds, and eat them. This does the tree no
good, so the trees put toxins in the seeds. The macaws come to eat clay to help
absorb these toxins. We humans eat clay, too. It's called Kaopectate, which
contains kaolin.
We arrive early in the morning at a floating blind, settle in, and munch on
sweet pancakes, which we eat rolled up like tortillas. The Lads in this blind
pull us by rope close to the cliff, so there will be no engine noise. 
Soon,
hundreds of parrots arrive. Most are Blue-headed, but there are also large Mealy
and the beautiful Orange-cheeked. When the parrots are spooked by passing boats,
there is a cloud of green until everyone finds a place to settle again.
Then,
in come the stars of the show: the Red-and-green Macaws. 42
of these beauties come, squawking, and drive off some of the parrots. The choicest
clay is in certain layers, which have been mined into long furrows. The macaws
fight and jostle for access to these veins.
Speaking
of clay, one of our other highlights is another clay lick. This one is visited
by the Brazilian Tapir, a very shy being. The tapir is hunted, and so has developed
very keen human-avoidance behaviors. First we hike for an hour, seeing a Great
Tinamou on the way. Then, when we get close, we are all required to stop talking...for
the rest of the night! And it's only 5 p.m. There is to be no whispering, rustling,
or snoring. The allowable bathroom bushes are inconveniently located 100 yards
away, across a creek, so that the tapir will not smell us. There is no bug repellent
or fragrances allowed. We eat our dinner in silence, climb up to our two story
shelter, and retire, each one to their mosquito-netted mattress. Everything
is set and we wait.
The first hitch is when one of our tour family members starts to snore. In case of snoring, the snorer's neighbor is entrusted with nudging them awake. Julia tries this a few times on her neighbor, but it is hopeless. Andy gets out and wonders why the snorer's wife, on the other side, doesn't nudge him, but she's asleep, too! With our tapir sighting in danger, there is nothing for it, but for Andy to get out of his netting and jiggle the thundering person's mattress. No use. Eventually, he has to lift a corner and heave. Ah, yes. Well, after this process repeats itself three times, Andy moves over to Julia's net, and re-nudges the culprit every 15 minutes. Our guide has promised to stay up until midnight, but at 11:30, we hear his clomping footsteps go to the bathroom, and when he returns, HE starts snoring. Andy performs the mattress jiggle procedure a couple of times on HIM this time, and then we give up in frustration and go to sleep amid the roaring lumberyard.
SCHLLLURRRRRP!
SCHLLLURRRRP!! We are awakened from our sleep by a giant sucking sound. Huw
awakens, and shines his flashlight down onto a large Brazilian Tapir below us!
It is 1:30 a.m. The tapir is in mud that goes almost completely up his leg,
and the sucking sound comes as he draws each foot out of the muck to plant it
again. He makes his way over to a clay bank at the edge of the mud, and starts
nibbling. He wanders back into the center of the mud, and slurps some of the
water that has collected in his footprints. He pays no attention at all to the
flashlight on his face or the flash bulbs going off. However, at any hint of
sound, he stops abruptly, and rotates his ears, listening for danger. After
nearly an hour, he leaves us, and now we can snore contentedly. Julia hears
a second tapir later in the night, but all the flashlight bearers are fast asleep.In
the morning, some of the group go searching for owls, and spot a Tawny-bellied
Screech Owl.
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