Tarantula Hunting

'ello pretty!

Yesterday I returned from 2 weeks at  the coast of Esmeraldas, the province in the north-west corner of Ecuador, searching for tarantulas, family theraphosidae, for my research project.  The expedition itself was a success- we came back with a cooler full of tarantulas- and I had a great time at the 2 research stations we visited, exploring the jungle and searching for spiders.

View from the bluffs above Congal

The first station Alejandro & I went to was the Congal Biomarine Station, outside of the town of Muisne.  The park offices and lodge were small- just 2 buildings, a researcher lodge & a volunteer lodge/dining hall, but it was a great location, park to the front of it, and mangroves, Rio Muisne, and then the Pacific behind. The lodgings turned out to be more "advanced" than the next station, with brick walls and a shower for every researcher room, but hiking through the humid jungle made the showers appreciated!  At each of the 2 research stations, we had the same procedure for the week we were at each.  On the first day, we went out to the jungle with Vicente, the guide/handyman at Congal, and set up a series of 100 meter transect lines that we'd use as our search area.  Every day after that, we'd work a different transect line, one each day.  Trying to be looking for tarantulas at as many points in the day as possible, we did two searches a day- 3 hours in the morning after breakfast, and then the same amount in the late afternoon/early night, before we came back to camp for a late dinner.   Our usual procedure was to spend most of the morning looking for burrows and spiders roaming around (important for finding males- females make burrows which are easy to find, but males roam their entire lives), and in the evening most of the search period would be spend digging up burrows found in the morning.  Even considering they were big spiders, the burrows were suprisingly deep- even at Congal, where the tarantulas were smaller, some of the burrows were 3 feet long.  Sometimes, if the spider was at the mouth of the burrow, we could fish her out by sticking a twig in the burrow and jiggling it, so when we pulled it out of the burrow she'd chase after it, thinking it was prey or competition. Another, mostly unsuccessful idea was to flood the spider out- pour water into the burrow until the spider has to leave.  But becasue of the size of the burrows, that idea was a little impractical.

one of the trails in Congal

So ultimately, we usually had to dig the spider out.  We'd put a stick in the hole so it wouldn't collapse while we dug, and slowly work our way with trowels and machetes to the back of the burrow.  Usually after digging deep enough, when we pulled the stick out, the tarantula would try to flee, and we'd catcher her then, putting our hand in front of her so she'd run into our grasp, or dropping a tupperware container on top of her, then sliding the lid underneath to seal her in.  For all their reputation, the spiders at Congal showed basically no aggression- a couple times back at the station we were able to play with them, taking them out of their containers and letting them run free on our hands.  Their grip, from the tarsal scopulae- tiny hairs on the end of their feet, is surprisingly strong, and you could feel when they grabbed a twig thrust into their burrow.

After the week at Congal, we moved onto Caimito, an awesome reserve further up the coast, the cliffs and the Pacific on one side, and the town of Caimito on the other.  The town consisted of nothing more than a school, farms, 1 road, and 40 inhabitants.  It was weird, but really relaxing, to be in such a small, relaxed place.  And of course the lodge there was incredible- buried in the jungle away from the gravel road, three strories, it was all open air and made of nothing but bamboo walls and railings, wood floors, and thatched roof.  Even the shower was just a thatched hut, with a garden hose and gravel floor.  For all our meals we at with Raul, the direct of the reserve, and it's one employee.  Since the lodge was the only building of the reserve, we at in his house, a short walk away.  A 20 minute walk from the lodge was the ocean- you could see it from the top floor- and while the water was that great for swimming, it was a tiny beach with strong, ferocious waves, it was a great walk to take to sit at the base of the cliffs lining most of the coast!

first floor of the caimito lodge, hammocks and all

an arch in the sea-cliffs

a flower

The searching in Caimito brought out the big tarantulas- while the ones at Congal had been 4 or so inches across, some of the Caimito spiders were easily 9 inches long with their legs spread out.  It was crazy to thing of arachnids being so large, but awesome getting to catch them and see them up close.  The most beautiful was the 1 male from Caimito- out of 23 spiders from the whole trip, only 3 were males- who had a purplish iridescent sheen under bright light.  Though both Congal and Caimito were jungles, they were certainly drier than the jungle of the Amazon- it only rained a couple of times at each place, and the soil was, for the most part, fairly dry- meaning we didn't have to dig through mud!  Seriously though, I think that definitely explains the tarantulas.  In the Amazon, many tarantula species are arboreal, because ground burrows would be more prone to collapse or flooding in a constantly humid and rainy environment.  One creature I saw plenty of here, and in the Amazon, were bullet ants.  An inch long, they crawled over tree trunks, looking more intimidating than the tarantulas.  One night, i Made the mistake of stirring up a bullet ant next.  Thinking it was a tarantula burrow, I stuck a branch in it to fish for the spider, and ended up fleeing as dozens of massive, lethal ants (6 bites is usually fatal) came swarming out.

photo op...

...and size comparison

Finally though, we had to lead, and on our travel day went an hour further north on the coast for an afternoon to visit Mateo, my host brother, who was studying cetaceans, whales and dolphins, as by-catch of the fishing industry.  While we were with him, we went out out the water with some of the local fisherman to watch them put their nets out, and record any dolphins they caught.  Thankfully, the only dolphins I saw were free swimming spinner dolphins- a kind most famous for it's huge leaps and jumps into the air.  We did however, bring in several dolphin fish, dorado, and 4 big marlins, before we came back to port and Alejandro & I returned to Quito, ending hte adventure in the Jungle, and almost ending my time in Ecuador.

Chillin' in Canoa

thatch-roofed bars and restaurants along the beach

This past weekend, I travelled to Canoa, a small town on the coast, to have a brief change of scenery and get one last round of surfing in before I leave the country.  On Friday night, I boarded one of the overnight buses and began my expedition (I had planned to leave on Thursday, but all the spaces on that bus were full).  The ride ended at 5 am in Canoa, leaving me pondering what to do til I followed a couple other gringos to their hostal, and the owner let me hang out there until it was light and I could find my own lodging.  When the sun rose, I walked to the beach and followed the beach-front road, asking about availability until I found Hostal del Jardin, a little place half a block from the beach, and with a room for the delightfully low price of $10 a night.  Considering I ended up using the room for almost 2 full days, it was quite the bargain!

hostal el jardin

Base camp established, I explored the beach, looking at the rows of canvas awnings with chairs under them right by the water, and the thatch-roofed bars and restaurants lining the dirt road that separated town from the beach.  Then came the time for the real objective: finding a board.  Thankfully, that didn't take long at all, as 2 surf shows were withing sight of my hotel, and I was soon equiped to venture into the surf.

my armory, with my weapon of choice on the left (hint: not the broken board at far left)

Compared to the Galapagos, the waves were amazing!  With surfing, you ride during a set of large waves, then use the lull between sets to paddle back out to where the waves start breaking.  If the lull is too short, you won't have time to paddle back out, and if it's too long, you spend a lot of time waiting on the board.  In the Galapagos, the problem was that the sets were really far apart, so it'd sometimes be 20 minutes between ride-able waves.  In Canoa though, the timing was perfect.  A set of 6 or 7 good waves would come through, giving me the chance to choose which wave I wanted, then there would be a lull of 5 or 7 minutes, giving me just enough time to paddle back out, so I didn't have to wait very long at all between sets.  With so many good waves, and all day, I got pretty of practice- while in the 2 months of surfing in the Galapagos I could only kneel on the board (as opposed to laying flat on it when I caught a wave) a few times, here I could at least kneel on every wave, and stand on a lot of them!  It was super fun, and definitely something I want to do more of when I get the chance again.  

boats

hanging out in a hammock (pun intended)

On Sunday the surfing was still fun, though not quite as great- the waves were almost constant, which meant I had plenty of waves to ride, but that I had to fight out through the breakers after each one I caught.  I also walked as far north along the beach as I could, ending at the line of cliffs a mile or two from town.

cliffs

At the end of the day, I had a tasty fried fish dinner at one of the little shacks on the beach, packed up my stuff, and took a bus to Bahia, a town a few miles south, to catch my overnight bus back to Quito, ending a great sea-side adventure!

Chompiras

 World, meet Chompiras, my host-brother's puppy

looking down at the pool & main courtyard of the castle, from the balcony

view from the balcony

....and my host family from the Galapagos

Tarantulas & Castles

Back in Quito (well, Cumbaya).  A tad bit different from the Galapagos, in the pace of life, elevation, and especially, the traffic.  I'd forgotten that buses in Quito don't stop for guys.  I'm not saying they don't let guys on, they just don't come to a complete stop-  the bus slows a little, so I can jump at the door and hope for the best.  It's worked out so far.  After spending my first weekend back on the mainland at Hotel Walther in Quito, I moved into the Castle, with Mateo, another USFQ student, as my host brother.  A group of 10 GAIAS students lived here before we left for the islands, and his house certainly lives up to it's name.  Built into a hill, the Castle is seperated by a high white wall from the Avienda de los Conquistadores, which is the curvy back road from Cumbaya to Quito.  Inside the wall, a pool and a series a gardens border the buildings.  The main house, where Mateo, his mother, and I live, is three stories- the bottom floor is bedrooms for rent, second is his mum's apartment, and 3rd has Mateo & my bedrooms, kitchen, living room, and the hammock room.  To the side of it, are a couple smaller buildings that are being rented out.  Inside, the walls are either white-painted brick, or bare stone blocks. Paintings, pottery, and a plethora of masks are hung on the walls and in alcoves.  I'll admit, the masks made getting a drink my first night here a little unnerving.

And today, I started on my research project on tarantulas.  Working with Alejandro, the grad student I'm helping, we started examining the preserved body of the female of unknown species.  It was awesome how Alejandro described her as like a pet in the 2 years she was in the lab before she died.  She was a big girl- since her legs curled up in death,  I don't know her full size, but her body alone was over 3 inches, and each leg at least that long.  Her fangs where bigger than the canines on a lot of dogs.  The main objective of today was to classify what type of urticating hairs she has- the barbed hairs tarantulas of the new world family Theraphosidae use for defense.  These hairs sit in little sheaths on the tarantula's abdomen, so when she's threatened by a big predator like a dog (or researcher), she spins her back to the threat and uses her back legs to flick the hairs into the air at the attacker's face.  While they are irritating to human skin, they can be lethal to animals like rats, because they don't have to travel far to get lodged in a rat's lungs.  There are 4 types of urticating hairs, and the combination varies between species, meaning that they are an important tool in classifying tarantula species, which are generally quite similar in appearance.  After sampling from several spots on her abdoment and examining the samples in a microscope, we found that our girl had hair types III and IV.

silhouettes of the 4 types of urticating hairs 

A second feature we examined were her tarsal scopulae- the hair on the bottom of her feet (the end of a spider's leg is called a tarsus), another technique for identifying species.  Because of their size, all tarantulas have fine hairs on the bottom of their feet that they use for traction (a new study has found some species that at least one species produces sticky silk on the bottom of it's feet to make gripping easier), and these patches of hair are either divided or undivided.  In undivided scopulae, the whole tarsas is covered in 1 type of hair, while in divided scopulae, the first type of hair is divided by a line of a second type of hair.  Our girl had undivided scopulae.

an example of divided tarsal scopulae, with the line of Type B hair running down the middle of the tarsus

After our examinations for the day were done, I got to see something awesome: baby tarantulas!  The female of unknown species was evidently pregnant, and laid eggs right after she was caught, so now the lab has a dozen or so 2 year old juvenile tarantulas.  And if you're thinking "2 years old?  That's old for a bug", for a tarantula, it's really not.  Currently, the oldest tarantula lived to be 48.  Being youngsters, these guys are anywhere from and inch to 2 inches long, each with his own container in the lab.

Last Day in the Galapagos

playa corola at sunset

And so begins my last day in the Galapagos.  I just finished my final exam for my maritime communities class, and with my final paper turned in yesterday, I'm done with all academic work and free to enjoy my last day on the islands.  It's a weird feeling knowing that this is the last time I'll be on the Galapagos for a long time, possible ever.  The first part of the semester in Quito was a lot of fun, but San Cristobal is absolutely my home in Ecuador.  I've always been a mountain person at heart- before I came here going to the beach for the sake of the beach wasn't on the top of my to do list- bu now I'm definitely going to miss living right by the ocean, and  being able to jump in the water whenever I want.

the harbor, from the roof of the university

And the wildlife is gonna be a big transition- the flighty squirrels, songbirds, and occasional deer are so different from the fearless animals of the Galapagos.  Yesterday I went snorkeling at Playa Corola, and got to swim beside a pair of spotted eagle rays, right off shore.  They were completely unconcerned by my presence, and would swim so close I could reach out and touch their wingtips.  Probably wasn't suppose to do that, but when else would I get the chance?  For all the tourism that comes through these islands, and how much they've been changed since the Spanish first found them in 1535, the wildlife and scenery is incredible- not what I'm used to, but so much more impressive than what I was expecting.  From the boobies to the giant tortoises to the sea lions lazing in the water off the beaches, I think I've spent more time with wildlife than anywhere back at home.

with my host-brother Ivan

All in all, the Galapagos have been amazing.  There are a lot of things I want to do, and leaving the islands isn't one of them. Off to the beach for one last romp!

sunset at Shipwreck bay

the malecon at night

Darwin

Pescado Vivencial

Yesterday I went out on a fishing expedition with one of the local Galapageno fisherman.  The whole class went out with fishermen, but because the local boats are so small, it was 6 of us to a boat.  My boat was the Kelly.  Not a terribly Ecuadorian name, but she was named after the granddaughter of our captain, Erwin.  From  the harbor, we headed out to the 5 Fingers, a rock formation a few kilometers from the island, we deploy our lines.    While we were on the boat, we used the 2 traditional means of fishing.  The first was long-lining. Using 2 fishing rods and 2 other lines tied to the back of the boat, all baited with artificial lures, we dropped 4 lines behind the boat, slowly driving around to keep them all as far behind the boat as possible.  Erwin said the 4 ranged from 25 to 40 meters behind the boat, and that this method was best for catching open water fish like tuna & wahoo.  These pelagic fish are fast and hungry, and will go after anything that moves, meaning that we could use artificially lures instead of live bait.

the Kelly, with Erwin at the helm

the five fingers

Despite trawling like this for over and hour and a half, up and down the coast of the island, we had no luck, and decided to switch to the second method of fishing.  For this, we stopped the boat off of La Loberia, with a hundred yards or so between us and the rocky shore.  Since we were close, the sea was pretty choppy, and you could see the dark spots in the water where there were rocks below.  The Kelly had a depth gauge, so we new that we wouldn't run aground- the shallowest we went was 9 meters, which left the hull plenty of room.  Instead of moving the boat, Erwin kept it in place, and we dropped baited lines off the side.  Now we were going for the real prize:  Bacalao, grouper.  Since these are more selective fish, we baited the lines with hunks of meat, carved from a smaller fish we brought with us.  Erwin would drop the line down and jerk it so the bait would bob and attract a fish, and once he felt a bit, he'd pass the rod to one of us to bring the fish in.  The first thing we caught was a famed bacalao- but it was too small, and we threw it back into the sea.  From then, we ended up catching a lot of fish- but nothing that was good to eat, so it all went back into the waves, which was alright with me.  We all caught at least 1 fish- I landed a gringo and a red mexican hog fish.  Gringos are greenish fish with red bellies- they get their name because their belly is the same color as all the sun-burnt tourists.  The hog fish was about a foot and a half long, and the biggest fish of the day, with a exception: a galapagos shark.

Mackenzie with a zapatia

edwin captures fish with his mere gaze

Erwin knew immediately that he had hooked a shark- he told us that most fish dive deep when they're hooked, trying to escape being caught, but sharks swim horizontally away from the boat.  Since he knew it was a shark, he reeled it in.  Soon, the four foot shark was beside the boat, and we all got a good look at it. Sharks are illegal to catch in the Galapagos, and since he (for obvious reasons) couldn't bring it onboard to pull the hook out of it's mouth, he cut the line and let it swim free.   In the end, we came home without any fish, but we all had a great time on the water.  Last night, we all went to a restaurant together and ate dinner with Erwin.

right after erwin cut the shark free

returning to harbor

La Loberia Cliffs

It's been a little bit since I actually hiked out to the cliffs at La Loberia, but I figure photos are always appreciated.   Past La Loberia, the sheltered bay with massive waves further out, a trail cuts across the rocky beach and the scrubby grass behind it.  And by "rocky beach," I really mean "rocky."  There's approximately 0 sand, so it's a bit of a trek to cross the rough, black basalt, even though the distance isn't that far.  I had to constantly watch my steps to ensure I did smash a toe into a rock or twist an ankle (there's not a whole lot of ankle protection in chacos).  After the rocks, there was a stretch of similar terrain further back from the shore- the rocks were still there, but surrounded by grass and dirt.  After all the level walking, I finally reached the uphill section to the top of the cliffs.  There were a couple small walls, a couple meters high, and some steep scrambles, but nothing too terrible.  At the top of the rise, it was an easy walk over the flat surface (the unbroken top of some 2-million year old lava flow) to the edge, where the rock dropped away and only the sky, wheeling frigate birds, and crashing waves was before me.  

waves crashing to the right of the point

birds on the cliffs

From the main point of the cliffs, they wall is concave to the left, create a walled-pool where breaking waves congregate to surge over the broken rocks at the water line.  The dark blue of the Pacific turns a little lighter as it approaches shore, then cuts to white from all the froth below the cliffs.  A group of turtles was riding the waves  just beyond the frothy zone, rising up as the waves rush along the surface, then sinking back down as the wave passes.  The cliffs are also a major nesting ground for the sea birds of the islands.  A lone pelican perched at the top of the cliffs, and blue-footed boobies and frigate birds nested on the surface, staining the ledges white.  The boobies were mostly sedentary, but many of the frigate birds, las frigatas wheeled overhead, swooping low over the top of the cliff, just a few feet above me, before turning back over the ocean or to continue over me to the far side of the arch to nest on the rocks.  It looked like the pecking order had the frigate birds at the top- a couple times a saw una frigata swoop down to a ledge where a boobie was perched, and the boobie always left to search for a new perch while the frigate bird claimed the stolen ledge.

the wave going out