Exploring the Kamarapa

By Matt Hallett

There is at least a little explorer in every biologist who conducts research far from their home. As you look across the landscape in Guyana and see whole tropical forests running to the horizon in every direction, this dream of exploring the unexplored or discovering something previously unknown to most people, seems somewhat within reach.

Studying jaguars up the rarely travelled Kamarapa Creek in Region Nine, there was part of me that believed I was going to get that chance. Entering the creek from the Rupununi River was a challenge. Just beyond the creek mouth lies a thick mass of vegetation that reaches across the width of the creek, piling up more than 10 feet high. This blockage at the mouth of a large and flowing creek was our first indicator that we were entering an area that is rarely traversed by the region’s human inhabitants. It was only with patience, persistence, expert navigation and several hours of hard work that we were finally able to navigate to an area where the creek widened and the thick bush gave way to large Mora trees on both banks.
But of course, it wasn’t just smooth sailing from here. Without previous travellers clearing the way, Kamarapa Creek is impeded by the trunks of fallen trees all along its length. Some of these trunks were below or just above the water’s surface and easily passable, while others lay some 6 feet above the surface. For these trees, it required emptying the contents of our boat completely, piling out onto the log itself and hoisting the boat over the top. As sweat poured and frustration mounted, the physical and mental challenges presented by Kamarapa hark back to the challenges that I have read from the early explorers before. It is these types of challenges that make the journey even more exciting.

Away from civilization
But it wasn’t just the creek itself that provided evidence that we were exploring an area that is rarely utilized by people; the behaviour of the animals that we were seeing also reinforced this assumption. Animals that you often only catch a fleeting glimpse of as they bound away through the canopy, sat quietly observing us as we made our way down the creek. Howler monkeys sat silently, refraining from its well known call, and just watched. A pair of scarlet macaws on a low perch monitored our activity with only minor chattering. Cocoi herons stood still and silent in the shallows watching as we passed by. A small group of squirrel monkeys came down to low branches within feet of our boat to investigate.
Potentially the most telling of all the animal behaviour that we observed came from a group of giant river otters that we spotted along the river. These animals, spotted relatively frequently along the Rupununi River, generally pay little mind to intrusion and carry on with their daily hunting activities when in the presence of boats and people. However, the group of otters that we encountered up Kamarapa reacted very differently. Upon detecting our presence, the otters responded wildly. A number of members of the group fled immediately either up the creek and out of sight or by taking to land up and over the river bank. The several individuals that were left behind were seemingly in a panic. Swimming erratically back and forth along the width of the creek and calling wildly to each other, these otters were reacting to our presence in a way that indicated a lack of experience with humans. On a number of occasions otters were observed jumping from the water onto logs and rocks so that they could gain a more advantageous viewpoint to size up their intruders. While I don’t pretend to know exactly why an animal behaves the way that it does at a given time and place, the behaviour that I observed from the animals up Kamarapa was different – indicating that this place was different as well.
As we moved down the creek, my excitement began to build. Would we discover something new? Were we the first non-native people to set eyes on this beautiful place? This thinking is something of a natural reaction when you encounter an area that is undisturbed. Compiling evidence from around the globe, we have gotten to a point where it is hard for us to believe that places can exist where humans have inhabited an environment without degrading it. However, entering the forests along Kamarapa showed us that the Rupununi region continues to be the exception instead of the rule.
Sustainable living
Leaving our canoes to explore the area on foot in search of prime sights for setting up camera traps, we began to come across trails foraged by cutlass, complete with markers on trees. Could this be true? Could people really be utilizing resources from this remote and pristine wilderness? Certainly this must have been the odd person that shared our spirit of exploration just passing through. This theory was disproven when we came across a mango tree in the middle of the forest – a clear sign that we had come across what was an old farming ground that was re-taken by the surrounding vegetation. People have lived in this place, but how long ago?
Back to the creek and paddling upstream, we were again surprised. Making our way towards Paima Falls where Kamarapa Creek makes its last drop from the mountains and joins the meandering creek that we are negotiating, we started to encounter small camps along the creek. When we investigated further we found remnants of recent human activity – old campfires, drying racks for fish, sites where hammocks had been tied. This sight had taken us by surprise. In a place so seemingly undisturbed, what we have really discovered is evidence of human activity. Not just any activity, but the kind that utilizes the environment while leaving it intact. This type of activity recognizes the nature of the place and the needs of future generations, and respects the rights of both.

Reflections from the trip
While I may not have had the experience of my dreams – exploring the unexplored up Kamarapa Creek, I came away with something much more powerful. This is something that the Rupununi has shown me over and over during my time working there; however it is something that is so unique in this world it has been hard for me to grasp.
While the natural resources, the forests, the savannahs, the wildlife, are what initially drew me in and captivated my attention in this place, I realize that it is the people of the Rupununi that are its greatest resource. There is an understanding of this place, of biology, ecology, behaviour, management and conservation that surpasses what many people and many societies possess. This is an understanding that comes from experience. It is an understanding that comes from a relationship with nature that has been forged over millennia. It is an understanding and a relationship that people in many, many other societies have lost.
As I sit now reflecting on this experience and others that I have had in the Rupununi, I think about what the world could learn from this place. With the mounting pressure around the world to develop and exploit our resources in a way that provides quick monetary gains, it is my hope that the people of the Rupununi can continue to be an example of how we can interact with the world in a different way. I think that we could all stand to learn something and benefit as a result. (Guyana Times Sunday Magazine)