Please Don’t Feed the Monkeys

How three Suburban Moms became Outdoor Girls on Cruise West’s Pacific Explorer


By Betsey Shapiro

I’ve been back from vacation for ten days now, and few times every day since then, I’ve had moments of recollection of the trip followed by melancholy when I realize that it’s over and I’m back at home. I’ve never before experienced such a profound sense of loss for a vacation. I also find that I miss my new-found alter-ego, Outdoor Girl.

My husband and I sailed on Cruise West’s 9-night “Between Two Seas” voyage through Costa Rica and Panama with two other couples. Like many couples who become friends, the wives had become friends first, from raising our children in the same suburban town together. Now that the kids are mostly grown, it was time to take a trip with the friends, but not with the kids.

We selected this cruise based on the itinerary – 9 nights in interesting Costa Rican and Panamanian ports on the on the Pacific Coast, with a transit of the Panama Canal to the Caribbean coastal ports in Panama. Although all of us had cruised extensively before, none of us had sailed on Cruise West. So, although we all had a sense of what to expect cruise-wise, we had nothing to compare the experience to.

After barely making our connection in Los Angeles due to stormy weather, we arrived in San Jose, Costa Rica. From the airport, we boarded a coach bus which took us on a winding trip west (like Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride) to the posh new resort of Los Suenos where we boarded the Pacific Explorer. We were greeted, and shown to our rooms, and our luggage was delivered promptly.

Social hour at the Toucan Lounge on the top deck began shortly thereafter at 5:30, just in time to watch the sunset.

With Costa Rica’s proximity to the equator, sunsets are at approximately the same time year-round, and 5:30 was the best time for cocktails and sunsets, which quickly became a ritual for us.

The ship carries a maximum of 100 guests, and on our voyage there were just 40. We were quickly introduced to our cruise staff and given a run-down of the next day’s activities.

A nice dinner, and then off to bed as we were all exhausted by the overnight flight from California and bus ride to the ship.

We arrived at Manuel Antonio National Park before breakfast, and that morning our naturalists took us on a hike to look for wildlife. Hey wait, aren’t we Suburban Moms? Shouldn’t we be shopping and getting our nails done right about now? Looking for wildlife? Clearance sales are more my usual type of adventure expedition. Nevertheless, we followed the directions of our Exploration Leader (or “EL” in Cruise West lingo) Kirsten and wore our “water shoes” and carried our “hiking shoes” with us. We were told to use lots of sunblock, bug repellent, a hat, and a fanny pack or a backpack. Don’t they know that a fanny pack does absolutely nothing for a Suburban Mom’s figure?

As it turns out, every stop on the cruise, save for the last one, is a “wet landing.” So prepare to get wet! Everyone has to wear a life jacket on the zodiac (although orange really isn’t my color) and to let them know whether you are onboard or ashore, you need to “flip your chip”. A simple system that let’s the crew know where you are at all times. Good to know! For every excursion, we would then climb into one of the zodiacs, or inflatable rubber speedboats carried on the top of the Pacific Explorer and be sped ashore One of my favorite ways to travel now!

Once on the beach, we would climb out into the shallow water and wade ashore. There was always one of the ship’s crew member’s waiting for us with towels to dry our sandy feet and chairs to sit in while we changed into our hiking shoes. Then we were ready to head off into the jungle and look for wildlife. Our first adventure as ODG’s! Our naturalist, Erick even brought along a high-powered telescope, and seemed to have a knack for knowing exactly where to look to find iguanas, sloths, and white-faced capuchin monkeys. Did you know that there were both two-toed and three-toed sloths? Erick could tell the difference between them from 50 feet away. Wow, better than a trip to local zoo.

There were monkeys all over Manuel AntonioNational Park (the smallest of Costa Rica’s many National Parks) and they were quite playful and fun to watch. After a zodiac ride back out to the ship for lunch, we decided to go swimming at the beach. The water was wonderfully warm, and especially welcome, since we were just coming to the end of winter back home, and we were sun and warmth-deprived. At one point, we discovered that a log floating not too far away from where we were swimming seemed to be moving. EL Kirsten did confirm for us with a nonchalant air that yes, that was indeed a crocodile. Funny, she’d never seen one at this beach before.

I think that right about then that we started to transform into Outdoor Girls at the point, or “ODG’s” as we started to refer to ourselves. For some reason, we didn’t panic at the sight of the crocodile, but continued to swim. After all, the crocodile wasn’t that close yet.

The next day was the event that we were all nervous about, though excited as well. We had all signed up to do the Zipline Canopy Tour - a ride through the treetops (over 100 feet in the air) from platform to platform. I was secretly relieved to see that my friends were equally nervous, even the guys. After breakfast, we took a longer zodiac ride in Drake Bay to a beachside hotel-slash-bar-slash-adventure outpost. It looked almost like an enchanted tiki room. After signing the liability waiver (it seems that even lawyers have made it this far into the jungle), the ODG’s and spouses were outfitted with harnesses, helmets and leather gloves before we went into the jungle in a parade of ancient Land Rovers, and down a dirt road dirt road to the beginning of the zip line route. Wow, I thought to myself, this would make a great theme-park ride. Okay, I’ll admit it, I’ve spent too many of the last few vacations with the kids at the theme parks.

We bravely made our way to the first of six zip lines. We were joined by three other fellow guests, one of whom was 84 years old. Later that day, we found out he was also legally blind. If the old guy can do this, so can we, I thought.

My husband was the first to jump off, zipping across the rainforest 200 feet in the air, to hoots and hollers of encouragement from us. One by one, we all swung like Tarzan toward a platform constructed around a tree. I ended up slowing down and stopping before making it all the way across, requiring me to use the hand-over-hand method that we were shown during the orientation to pull myself to the platform. Ouch. I should have spent less time with the Maple Oat Scones at Starbuck’s, and more time at the Y, I thought. I finally made it to the platform. After the first “zip,” we got into enjoying the thrill of the ride. The last zip line, I jumped off, finally feeling quite confident in my abilities. I stopped short. It seems my shoelace caught on a nail on the edge of the platform, there I was, one foot nailed to the platform while the rest of me was still trying to fly through the jungle. I tried to mentally will the shoelace to break, or even for the shoe to come off. I really did need the foot though. Finally, one of the adventure guides and my husband pulled me back to the platform.

After catching my breath, retying the shoelace and contemplating the possibility of living on a platform in a tree in the Costa Rican jungle for the rest of my life, I took a deep breath and tried again. This time I made it. The number one question asked of my husband for the rest of the day was “did you get a picture of her?” Thankfully, no, he didn’t.

After some post-zip celebratory beers back at the tiki room/adventure outpost, our EL called for our taxi, I mean our zodiac, to return us to the ship for lunch and a short cruise down the coast to Corcovado National Park. That afternoon, we took the kayaks from the ship up the Rio Agujitas. We boarded our kayaks from another hotel-dive shop that I’m sure was the original inspiration for the Jungle Cruise at you-know-where. We were guided by Gustavo, the Pacific Explorer’s Medical Officer. He pointed out various birds in the in the trees as we kayaked up the river to a swimming hole. I kept waiting for some mechanical hippos to spring up from out of the water. At this point, our Outdoor Girlishness inspired some of us to kayak from the river into the open ocean all the way back to the ship, instead of taking the zodiac back.
The next day found us in Golfo Dulce – The Sweet Gulf. There we met the first of a series of expatriate American couples who now live in Central America. We visited Casa Orquiedas, a botanical garden of tropical flowers, fruits and trees, run by Ron and Trudy McAllister. Naturalist Daniel led us through this Garden of Eden, explaining why some flowers were a certain color or shape, and even found a huge nest of bats hanging underneath a large palm leaf. Of course, at this point, we were well-seasoned ODG’s, so we didn’t even flinch at the sight of all these bats, but did move closer to get some better photos with the zoom on the digital camera.

Back to the ship with some time before lunch for a swim off the back deck of the ship. Very ODG of us, although Gustavo was patiently watching us from the aft deck, just in case we slipped back into Suburban Mom mode and needed help.

Again, a short cruise during lunch and we visited Cana Blanca private reserve, a rehabilitation center for Scarlet Macaws run by a retired couple from California. The macaws were beautiful, but the real stars of the afternoon were Papi and Sweet Pea, spider monkeys who were quite used to playing with humans. The director had a baby anteater on his shoulder, which quickly ended up on each of our shoulders. Very cute and cuddly, until the anteater’s long tongue started to explore our ears and necks. Even the, the ODG’s didn’t flinch and scream, but posed for photos instead. Who needs Q-tips? The afternoon ended with a short rain shower, just enough for a rainbow as we headed south to Panama.

One of the reasons that we were able to quickly adjust to the role of Outdoor Girls is that we didn’t have any of our Suburban Mom duties. When we arrived back on the ship, there was someone to hose the sand off our feet.

We would leave our wet shoes on the aft deck and

they’d be cleaned and dried overnight.

Meals were excellent and plentiful. Our favorites were the Deck Buffets and the creative appetizers served at Social Hour. Of course, our rooms were always kept very clean, with fresh towels folded into flowers and shapes on top of the freshly made beds. Once during the voyage, the crew even did a limited amount of laundry for us.

Next, the ODG’s found themselves at Isla de Coiba in Panama, a pristine National Park. Actually, we went to Granita de Oro, or Grain of Gold, an island just off the island. I think this tiny island of adventure may have been the prototype for the cartoon castaway island seen in so many comic strips. Granita de Oro has a reputation for some excellent snorkeling, which must have been so particularly the day we visited, because there were hundreds of small stinging jellyfish that were snorkeling under the sea as well.

Of course, the ODG’s and the rest of the guests didn’t know this before plunging right in with the snorkel gear that we were outfitted with earlier in the voyage. It wasn’t long before we all felt a stinging sensation, and climbed back out to the beach, where the crew doused us with vinegar to take the sting out.

Of course, more photos of the jellyfish stings on the Outdoor Girls before abandoning the snorkel gear for kayaks to explore the water, or sunbathing with the hundreds of hermit crabs on the beach.

Soon we were back on the Pacific Explorer, heading south to the Darién Jungle area close to the Columbian border. That afternoon we were entertained by bow- riding dolphins, who swam alongside and jumped into the air.

Even ODG’s get tired once in a while, so I headed up to the Cacatua Lounge, with comfy couches, huge observation windows and air-conditioning, great for napping. There is a also a nice library collection, with lots of books about the area – travel guides, jungle books, bird-watching books, as well as trashy novels. I pulled out a guide book on Panama to read about our next destination. We were going to visit a village of Embera people, an indigenous population who still live in much the same way they’ve lived for thousands of years. This village was quite remote and deep in the Darién Jungle, considered by the guide books to be “The Most Dangerous Place in the Western Hemisphere.” Very ODG, I think. Because of the density of the jungle in this area, this is the only break in Highway One, which runs from Alaska to Argentina, the 100-mile long Darién Gap. Because of its remoteness, it’s also become a haven for Columbian drug lords to hide in. Tourists are warned not to go this area without a guide, and one book even went so far as to give names and dates of tourists who met their fate in the Darién Jungle.

Of course, I have to relate this to the rest of the group at Social Hour over bartender Roberto’s fine margaritas and guacamole. We decide it’s a good thing we have our trusty Naturalists Erick and Daniel, as well as Exploration Leader Kirsten and Exploration Leader-In-Training Angela to keep us safe as we enter “The Darién”

The next morning we arrive at the Embera Village. We’re told that the Pacific Explorer is the only ship to visit this particular group, and that they provide the village with some needed supplies when they visit. They also gave us some guidelines on how to treat the Embera people. The crew is quite concerned not to “spoil” them, as too many other native cultures have been eroded by tourism, as we were to find out later in the voyage. We were also given a list of Embera language phrases to use onshore.

We were also warned that this could be the roughest zodiac trip so far, and they’ve added extra ropes to hang on to. At this point, the ODG’s are very used to getting around by zodiac, far preferring it to our SUV’s with cup-holders and seat belts. The landing on the Playa del Muerto, “Deadman’s Beach” isn’t as bad as we were led to expect, and we are greeted on the beach by many young children. We changed out of our wet shoes while being listening to music played by some of the men, who were wearing loincloths, beads, and elaborate tattoos. We then enjoyed a performance of dancers, and a quick tour of how they process sugar cane and rice and shopped at an impromptu crafts market for colorful hand-woven baskets and carved tagua nuts, which look like ivory. A highlight for the ODG’s is being invited into a typical Embera home, which is an open-walled treehouse. You climb up into the house using a pole that has notches carved in one side. When the pole is turned around so the notches don’t show, the family is indicating it wants privacy. The pole is pulled up into the house at night to keep out intruders. Food is cooked over an open fire in a pit on the floor. After seeing this arrangement, I decide to stop whining about my outdated kitchen back home ever again.

After that, we watch part of a soccer game between the crew and the Embera men (who mysteriously have changed into matching soccer uniforms). We’re told that the team from the ship has yet to win a game, no doubt due to the limited practice facilities onboard.

After a while though, our Outdoor Girl instinct takes over, and we naively follow Erick on a nature hike into the jungle. He tells us that we would have to cross a small stream, and he hinted that if we were lucky, we might be able to see something special. Off we go – through the other side of the village and into the Darién Jungle.. The ‘small stream” turns out to be thigh-high murky water. Erick stops short to show us a snake. We look on politely, feigning interest. We may be ODG’s, but we’re not about to get excited about a little ol’ snake. We’re not Indiana Jones, for heaven’s sake.

Finally, we arrive at the point on the trail that Erick has chosen and we stop. We look around. Hmm. We don’t see any monkeys, sloths, macaws or even iguanas. Erick tells us to look down. Ants! Big, giant ants carrying huge leaves along a path. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them. I think to myself, didn’t I see an animated movie or two a few years back that showed these guys? What was it? An Ant’s Life? Bugz? Something like that, only they weren’t, I don’t know…..real? Like crawling? I took two giants steps back.

Erick seemed excited beyond belief, but leaf-cutter ants were definitely not on this ODG’s girls list of merit badges to earn, especially with her dripping wet shorts and soggy sandals. Oh well, a short walk back to the beach where we hailed a cab, I mean zodiac to take us back to the ship and our new best friend, trusty bartender Roberto, and a wonderful dinner. After surviving the Dangerous Darién, it’s off to the Panama Canal.

We arrived outside Panama City to wait for our turn to go through the Canals. For the past week, we’ve been living the Outdoor Girl life, which means virtually no communication from the outside world. No cell phones, TV broadcasts, or even an internet connection, not even dial-up. We only saw one other ship on the second day. Now, here in sight of the modern skyscrapers of Panama City, we revert to Suburban Mom mode. We all gather on the top deck of the ship to drink coffee and talk on our cell phones. After much collaboration with the other guests on how to call the US, and whether Verizon or Cingular has service here, the ODG’s phone home and download email onto Blackberries. Hmmm… the kids are all fine, and the hundreds of email seem to be mostly spam.

After a lazy day, late in the afternoon the Pacific Explorer gets ready to go through the canal. A small launch delivers the canal pilot onto the ship, and a series of nautical flags are raised. Each of the flags has a significance, which Erick explains to us. They’re used to identify the ship and its transit through the canal.

Because of our relatively small size, we are partnered with a refrigerated freighter to travel through the locks with. The fabulous chefs onboard prepared a wonderful barbecue buffet for dinner up on the top deck, so we wouldn’t have to miss any of the canal maneuvers.

The sun sets as we go under the Bridge of the America’s, and we’re on our way. A crew of rope pullers board, and work at the bow of ship to catch ropes that are thrown by a man in a rowboat in front of us. The rope pullers work quickly to secure the lines between the ship and the “mules,” small locomotives that guide the ships through each of the locks. We pull our chairs from the sun deck on the aft of the ship around to the front, giving us a front-row view of the action. The canal is lit up along the way, and I’m thankful that I’m watching this in the evening hours instead of in broad daylight, as I still have fair Suburban Mom skin.

After we navigate two of the locks, we sign up on the “Lock Knock” list for a wake-up knock and go to bed for the three hours that it takes to navigate Gatun Lake before arriving at the Gatun Locks on the Caribbean Side. At about one a.m,.we get a knock on our door. I’m so tempted to just roll over and sleep till morning, but what would an Outdoor Girl do? Right. We drag ourselves out of bed and open our stateroom door just in time to see seven r ope-pullers in hardhats with coils of ropes slung over their shoulders marching down the hallway to the bow. Sort of a surreal parade. Heigh-ho, it’s off to work they go.

We meet our fellow ODG’s and spouses back on our front row seats. Some of the girls have very cute canal-viewing pajamas, by the way. We happily watch all the action, with lights all around in the warm dark tropical night, and everyone lets out a loud cheer as we exit the last lock and enter the Caribbean around 3 am, and then fall back into bed.

We awake to find ourselves in the picturesque harbor of Portobelo, Panama. We are joined at breakfast this morning by another expatriate couple, the McGehees, who now live here and shared their love of the history of the port. It seems that this was the place of the original pirates of the Caribbean. Yo-ho. We make the morning commute in the zodiac into town and explore the old Spanish fort and the historic center of town.

After lunch, it’s time to be an ODG again, this time for a guided zodiac tour with Daniel into the nearby mangrove swamps to find wildlife. We see a lot of birds this time, as well as some crabs that the ODG’s thought were giant spiders. I swear, we were now ready to confront the scariest, ickiest critters we could imagine at this point. This was definitely my kind of adventure – being chauffeured around, just cruising the neighborhood, looking at stuff.

Our last stop is the San Blas Islands, an archipelago of 360 small flat islands, populated by the Kuna tribe. This is a semi-autonomous area, sort of like an Indian Reservation in the US. The Kuna people have taken their unique and colorful culture and seemed to have maximized their revenue opportunities. They have a distinctive style of dress and adornment, and it’s only one dollar to photograph their adorable children. It seems that the Kuna people also have an unusually high incidence of Albinism, so if you want to take a picture of an albino, the price doubles to $2.

The island that we visited is a marketplace for the colorful appliquéd “molas” that they make. The whole island is a riot of color. One of our guys is an avid kayaker and collects paddles. He asked Daniel if he knew anyplace on the island to buy a paddle, and before we knew it, he was the proud owner of a new, $5.00 paddle, straight from one of the local’s boat. We figure by the next week, many vendors would be featuring native paddles in their booths. Meanwhile, I wondered how the guy who sold the paddle got home that day. I guess he was up a creek without a…..well, you know.

After lunch, our last afternoon was spent snorkeling off one of the nearby islands. This time there were no stinging jellyfish, and had a great time exploring under the sea, especially a sunken ship turned reef that was covered with coral and colorful anemones.

By the end of the trip, we truly were transformed into Outdoor Girls, and discovered it isn’t such a small world after all. Being a Suburban Mom will never be the same.

©2006 Betsey Shapiro All Rights Reserved.