Trinidad

Tuesday, November 1st
Amazing Amazon
Day 8
M/S Regatta
Port of Spain, Trinidad
Trinidad & Tobago
Arriving: 9:00 AM
Departing: 4:00 PM
Scattered T-Storms - 86 Degrees

Port of Spain, on the Gulf of Paria, is the capital and financial center of Trinidad and Tobago, but only its third most populous city. Columbus "discovered" Trinidad in 1498 and christened it "La Isla de la Trinidad," The Island of the Holy Trinity. A crown colony of the United Kingdom for nearly 100 years, Trinidad and Tobago became an independent republic of the Commonwealth in 1976. The island of Trinidad was once connected to the South American continent, part of what is today Venezuela. In fact, Trinidad is closer to the coast of Venezuela, seven miles offshore, than it is to its sister island of Tobago. In addition to proximity, Trinidad and Venezuela also share similar geology. Oil was discovered here in 1976, followed by the discovery of vast additional stores of oil and gas in the late 1990s.

The guidebook quotes a popular sentiment about Port of Spain, "leave as fast as possible." The natural bounty of Trinidad well exceeds the urban charms of Port of Spain. In fact, Trinidad has the widest variety of flora and fauna in the Caribbean.

• 600 Species of Butterflies
• 430 Species of Birds
• 100 Species of Mammals
• 70 Species of Reptiles 
• 1600 Species of Flowering Plants
• 700 Species of Orchids

In a tropical rain forest high in the hills of the Northern Range, the Asa Wright Nature Centre is a world renowned ecological reserve. Founded in 1967 on a 200 acre cocoa and coffee plantation, Asa Wright is an award-winning destination for ecotourism, noted as "one of the world's ultimate outposts." Naturalists, ornithologists, and amateur birders reserve years in advance to make a pilgrimage to this Mecca of nature.



We joined our guide David on the pier in Port of Spain for a drive up the Blanchisseuse North Coast Road and a hiking tour of the Asa Wright Nature Centre. It was a long drive and David provided a running commentary. Oil and gas money has given Trinidad opportunity that is the envy of the Caribbean, but there is considerable conflict as to how that money should be invested and distributed. Changes in government have stalled some projects and reversed course entirely on others. Controversy over a major campaign to develop Port of Spain with high rise office buildings toppled the previous government. The new government has pledged to invest in people rather than vanity projects. They mothballed infrastructure already completed toward a four billion dollar transportation network, ensuring continuing gridlock. Unrest led to the declaration of a state of emergency, and the establishment of a 10:00 PM curfew. David dismissed these measures as trivial and loosely enforced. Bars openly advertise curfew parties in defiance of the policies, which are due to expire after the holidays. We can't imagine such drastic measures in any but the most extreme circumstances, but David and his countrymen seem unfazed.

The traffic coming into the city was brutal, but mostly free-flowing heading out of town, the stop and go the result of traffic lights rather than congestion. We left the shantytowns, malls, and billboards behind when we turned onto the Blanchisseuse. As we gained elevation, the winding road narrowed and the switchbacks became more severe. The foothills of the Northern Range are being quarried at an alarming rate. Giant dump trucks fully loaded with stone barreled down the mountain. David had to pull off the road to let them pass with the slightest clearance. The rain had been falling off and on all morning and the quarries have left the hillsides vulnerable to erosion, mudslides, and flooding. We rounded a corner to find cars and trucks pulled off to the side, and the road in front of us flooded with a torrent of muddy water. Truck drivers had removed their shoes, picked up sticks, and waded into the water several feet deep to poke and prod in an attempt to clear the blockage.

The obstruction eventually gave way and the flood abated, the culverts under the road again able to handle the volume, and the water receded revealing the road. Back in the van, our journey continued.

The lodge at Asa Wright, the plantation house, is more than 100 years old. We came through a hallway of bedrooms and sitting rooms and emerged onto a wide open-air porch with an incredible view over the hills and valleys of of the rain forest.

Screened-in on the sides, but open to the front save for a half-wall, a row of stools provided the perfect perch to take it all in with cameras, binoculars, and the naked eye. In the garden just below, several metal tables had been set with scraps of fruit, papaya, banana, and citrus, and secured with screens over the top. Little birds by the hundreds fed on the bounty. Bigger birds followed the smaller ones. The air was alive with the flutter of their wings and the sound of their calls.

Hummingbirds, and others, hovered at their feeders.

Butterflies and bees floated by. A tarantula spider as big as your palm clung to the screen on the far wall. When the staff refreshed the fruit and tossed what was left to the ground, rodents and lizards appeared.

The richness and diversity of life was overwhelming.

Twenty to thirty species of birds could be identified without even leaving the porch, but we had come for a hike through the rain forest. And rain it did. We applied a thick fog of insect repellent, covered up with hats and coats, sweating in 80 degree heat in spite of the rain, and went down the stairs and into the jungle. The sheer abundance of organic material, living and dead, all around in three dimensions, was staggering. Layer upon layer of every stage of rot covered the ground. Nothing in the rain forest lives in isolation. Every living thing supports many others. A tree is covered with moss and draped with vines, a branch laden with a termite mound. A plant grows out of an exposed root of the tree and its leaves trap pools of rainwater for the benefit of both. A freshwater fish finds a happy home in a pool created by the plant. True story. They just can't figure out how the fish got there.

Our naturalist guide leading the way, we followed the trail downhill from the lodge, stopping every few feet to marvel at something new.

The path cut through the forest floor exposed the same stone being quarried down the hill. And it was slick. Super slick. Dangerously slick. As first one, then another, of our fellow travelers took a nasty fall, many others losing their footing, we decided the view was really better from the lodge anyway. We turned back up the trail, carefully executing every footfall. Back in the lodge, we took a front row stool on the porch, ordered a locally brewed Carib beer, and continued to watch the show.