Lamanai: A Look at Wild Belize

I turned my back on the second longest barrier reef in the world, my mind on toucans and monkeys instead of sharks and rays. Three out of the four stops on my Western Caribbean cruise comprised snorkeling adventures so I decided to head into the jungle on my Belize outing. I wanted to appreciate the flora and fauna, not to mention the history and culture, of a country I barely knew.

Cruise ships don't dock in Belize City, where tenders shuttle tourists between the megaships and the main port. On that half-hour ride I got a preview of some local bird life in the form of gulls, terns, and pelicans. But those birds were a far cry from the exotic animal life that consumed me as I boarded a tour bus to Lamanai Archaeological Reserve.

The partially excavated structures at Lamanai were located an hour's drive from the port affording me a chance to see a portion of Belize's northern countryside. Flat and historically forested, the tropical landscape was dotted with small farms and settlements. I tried to imagine the dense forests of mahogany trees that attracted loggers and colonists after the Conquest. Today the landscape is dotted with small farms and settlements often bordered by streams and ponds. I identified from my bus's window seat a number of birds including ibises, kingfishers, swallows, kingbirds, vultures, and roadside hawks.

Great-tailed grackles waited for me in the trees and rooftops at our first destination, a gateway lodge run by Ayin Ha Adventures. The site also contained a marina, where we boarded motor boats to Lamanai. Lamanai means submerged crocodile in Mayan and we indeed saw one of the reptiles swimming in the canal as we motored off. Before leaving the dock I also observed many mangrove swallows darting overhead and equally numerous proboscis bats sleeping in tight lines under a concrete embankment.

The boat trawled slowly on the canal before reaching New River where the skipper told us to hold on to our hats as he opened up the engine. New River acts as a drain for the frequent tropical rains that fall on the northern half of Belize. While not the Amazon - Belize is only the size of New Jersey - the river offered a wide view of the surrounding wooded environment and some of the wildlife that thrives there. Cormorants flew in tight formations as our boat crossed their flight paths. Closer to shore were a number of herons, including the great white and little blue, along with more swallows, vultures, and kingfishers.

I thought of several facts about Belize that our tour guide shared on the bus ride to the lodge and marina. The black orchid is the national flower of the country and its animal is the Baird's tapir, or mountain cow as it's sometimes known. The nation's bird is the keel-billed toucan. When we finally reached our destination, Lamanai, I was giddy with anticipation at finding one of the reclusive canoe-billed birds.

Of course the archaeological site was once a major Mayan city, the grounds continuously occupied for more than three thousand years. At least three significant structures have been excavated, each an imposing pyramid-shaped temple named for its most characteristic feature: jaguar, high, or mask.

Our group was only several hundred feet along a forested path of the reserve when our guide pointed out a black orchid growing in the wild. I was excited to check that box on my mental tally sheet of the Best of Belize, and crossed my fingers the toucan or tapir would be next.

While the canopy of trees didn't seem to be teaming with birds, a group of overhead howler monkeys not only howled but roared in a state of agitation. The scary kerfuffle seemed like an appropriate soundtrack to the first temple we visited, the Jaguar, where, alas, the namesake cat was unlikely to be seen. However at least two representations of its head adorned the structure as a Lego-worthy sculpture.

Next to High Temple and its ball court, I watched what looked like a woodpecker with a brown-colored backside scale the trunk of a tree. However, it took a visit to the last temple, the Mask, to finally hit the motherlode and definitively identify some unique neotropical birds.

Not the most massive or highest of the three temples, the Mask Temple was the most noteworthy because of the namesake limestone carvings that adorned the pyramid's sides. The thirteen-foot faces have thick lips, broad noses, and, appropriate for the riverside location, crocodile headdresses. But students take note, we only observed fiberglass replicas protecting the original figures underneath.

While the guides explained every feature of the temple - its tombs and consecutive layers, along with its buried treasures within - I couldn't stop scanning the treetops. As I stepped closer to the encroaching jungle a yard or two away and as the docents' voices faded, birds suddenly appeared in the canopy overhead. I directed my camera at the first animal, then at the second, and finally at a third, all within a couple of minutes.

The first bird was a male yellow-throated euphonia, in a family of birds found in the tropics and related to finches. The second was a gartered trogon, a yellow-bellied member of a family that includes quetzals. Finally there was a male red-capped manikin, a fascinating find with his scarlet head and yellow leg feathers.

The birds were far away, so my captures with a 400mm zoom lens allowed me to crop and study the photos. Also the birds were all males, each colorful compared to their mates, allowing me to easily identify the species.

While thrilled to see so many exotic birds in a short span, I still thought of my checklist: where was a toucan, or for that matter, a tapir? Our group needed to walk the same forested trails back to the dock on New River so there was still time. Not far from the Mask Temple, a lowland paca, a type of rodent, scurried across our path. The guide called it a royal rat because not only was it a regional food but it was served to Queen Elizabeth, Belize's head of state, during her visit in the 1980's.

As for birds, Lamanai still wasn't finished with its gifts. Passing by Jaguar Temple, the howlers were quiet but brown jays were busy scuffling in the tree tops. Closer to the river bank, the birds posed alongside our trail, offering some easy parting shots to anyone interested.

Nowhere to be seen on our arrival, the jays looked curious about our departure. I imagined them telling me that the jungle at Lamanai was still hiding more treasures, a toucan or two included.