- Michael Saab
Leo Douglas of Bird Life Jamaica, draws the attention of hikers to one of the rare birds in the swamps of Montego Bay.
Reporter Erica James-King went trekking with a group of amateur and experienced hikers in the swamps and mangroves around Howard Cooke Boulevard Park and brings back story about her wet and wild adventure.
Erica James-King, Senior Staff Reporter
WESTERN BUREAU:
STRIP MONTEGO BAY of the allure of sun, sea and sand. Take away the magic of its pulsating nightlife on the Hip Strip. What would the adventure-seeking, pleasure-lovers among us be left with in the Second City? We would be doomed to a sentence of intense boredom and lazy, crazy days.
If you can look beyond your nose, past the conventional means of enjoyment, there's a wet, wild, wonderful adventure in the wetlands of this resort town, just waiting to be discovered, savoured, and pocketed close to the heart as lifetime memorabilia. For nature lovers (no pun intended) it's an untamed way to channel your energy and let your hair down.
I stumbled upon this heart-throbbing fun recently. I love hiking into the hills but I never dreamed that a trek into the swamps could be so much fun though it's not for the faint of heart.
Answering the call of the wild, I dragged myself out of bed before daybreak (5:30 to be exact) on Sunday, wondering if I really wanted to sacrifice some well deserved sleep for scouting around in the bushes to get muck and grime all over me. Was this trek worth it?
I had to fight the urge to slee when I started the seven-mile journey from home to Marine Park where I was to link up with the others taking part in this adventure. On the advice of veteran environmentalists, I had donned cap, jeans, tube top, a long sleeved jeans shirt and a pair of walking shoes. However, I was hesitant about another slice of their advice insect repellent. Now if I am so covered up why would mosquito or any other insect bother me, I wondered. Still after some persuasion I let better judgement prevail and borrowed some insect repellent for my neck and hands.
At about 7:15, the hikers were split into two groups, and we would alternate treks into the Howard Cooke Boulevard Park and Mangrove Wetlands as well as the Estuary of the Montego River. My day would start with the journey into the wetlands.
HOWARD COOKE BOULEVARD PARK - FOR THE BIRDS
I had come to think of Howard Cooke Boulevard Park as a white elephant because it had been locked up for so long. This morning I was in for a rude awakening. Almost immediately on stepping through the gates, I realised that it was a paradise for birdlovers. The grass was still wet from mist and our sneakers and walking shoes, and pants feet were soaked with moisture from the moisture as we wended our way through the park, stopping here and there to observe birds in the trees or the shrubs. The cacophony of chirps, whistles chip-chips and twits from the many and varied birds. At times their calls drowned out the sounds of our trampling feet. The trip was a beautiful baptism for me into the world of bird watching. Armed with bird checklists and binoculars, both bird-watching veterans and novices, like myself, were in for a treat.
"Cheep, cheep, cheep" went our 'birdman' Leo Douglas, executive member of Birdlife Jamaica, as he imitated and attracted the birds that frequented the park and the swamps skirting it. A delightful part of our trek was getting up close with our avian friends in the undergrowth of the white mangroves edging the north eastern end of the park. (By the way, I learned that you can differentiate between a white mangrove and a red mangrove by licking the leaves. The white mangrove leaves actually taste salty.)
WETLANDS
To the north west of the Howard Cooke Boulevard Park, we plunged into the thick forest of mangroves. Our bird-watching adventure stepped up an octave, as we pushed deeper into the 10-acre mangrove stretch. At times, I had to bend low in the undergrowth of the red or black mangroves and had to keep still (even in stagnant water where my shoes and pants were soaked and rotten leaves, twigs and moss covered my feet) so as not to frighten the birds away.
It was worth it though. We had a front seat show of the wild. I heard the whistling, singsong cry of the Mangrove Canary before I even knew what the bird looked like. After several attempts to see it. I was finally rewarded with a glimpse of the small, bright yellow bird measuring about five inches in length and sporting dark-brown beak. My first thought on seeing it was that for such a small bird it created a big, beautiful harmony.
At times, as we ambled through the mangroves the streamer-tailed hummingbird or Doctor bird (the National bird) would make its presence felt, moving swiftly through the blossoms of flowering trees as if overtaken by a restless, fidgety streak.
Then there were the other inhabitants of the wetlands that frequently hovered and fluttered above our heads. These were the migratory or Christmas birds (so called because they come to Jamaica during the Christmas or winter season). Among them were my beautiful black and red bird friends (the American Red Start or Butterfly birds), which constantly twitched their tails. And, I cannot forget to mention the black and white ones that behaved as if they owned the bark of the mangrove as they hacked and whacked at the insects on the bark. Now you understand why we Jamaicans call them the Ants Picker, although in other parts of the world they are referred to as the Black and White Warbler.
Turning to the matter of indigenous species, the Cling Cling birds were doing their gig as we trekked through the wetlands. Eco-guide Joseph Hylton filled us in on an eye-opener about the Cling Cling. "You see these big black birds, they just love to bathe. Every evening a flock of them just come near where I live in the mangrove and play and bathe in the water," he told us.
SLIP, SLIDING AWAY
Let me back track a bit to some action, other than bird action. When we left the Howard Cooke Boulevard Park and headed into the hinterlands of the swamp the screaming started as we began our real bog walking. Hikers slipped, slid, skated on their bottoms at times and even waded ankle deep and knee deep in mud and foul-smelling water (the odour caused by vegetable matter decomposed and partly carbonised in the water).
We had many a near-scare as we crouched low and wormed our way through the belly of the mangrove forest of white and black mangroves and sea mahoe. For dozens of us it was our first time trekking through thick mangroves. However, our affable Rastafarian tour guide Joe gave many of us women a helping hand. He, believe it or not, trodded barefooted through the peat and waters of the swamp while we, clad in shoes, were screaming when our feet went down into loam, peat or stagnant water. In sections of the mangrove forest, Joe laid some sticks from almond trees in the path for us to walk on so that we would not be swallowed up by the soft earth.
To our dismay and sometimes amusement, one member of the group, Marcia took bog-walking to new heights. Once we got a fright thinking it was quick-sand gobbling up Marcia. As we moved single file in the undergrowth, Marcia was gingerly picking her way beneath the mangroves when her foot disappeared and she screamed. The next thing I knew, in her struggle to get it out, the other one went in. Luckily, only the wind was knocked out of her for a while. The minute she was dragged out of the sod - grimy and covered with muck - 'laughing spoil'.
After about half an hour of walking in the mangroves, we came to a clearing near the old course of the Pye River at the back of the Freeport Police Station. Here, some of the vegetation was destroyed by drain-building efforts. It also pained my heart to see the mangroves being used by private companies as a dumping ground for garbage.
The wetland vegetation changed sharply in this area. Joe explained why: "During Hurricane Gilbert the heavy wind destroy the mangroves. After Gilbert you find trees like the Almond and Logwood which don't generally grow in the swamps, start springing up in this area."
The trip in the wetlands should have ended on a section of the beach in the Freeport area. However, the journey ended prematurely in the swamps adjoining the Petroleum Bay at the Freeport. Owing to high tide which caused the influx of seawater in sections of the mangrove to be too dangerously high for trekkers not familiar with that wetland, to trod any further, we turned back. We eventually came out at a section of the mangroves near the back of the Freeport police station and ended up at the intersection of Howard Cooke Boulevard and Alice Eldermire Drive. By that time we had clocked approximately two hours of sampling life in the entire wetland tour.
ECO-GOLD MINE
The area in which we hiked is now earmarked for eco-tours and is dubbed the Howard Cooke Boulevard Wetland Walking Trail and Interpretive Centre. It is the brainchild of the Montego Bay Marine Park. The United States Fish and Wildlife Center has approved US$25,000 in funding for the project, which is slated to get off the ground within six months.
Guess what I have bragging rights. I can say I have been there and done that when the Howard Cooke Boulevard Park and Wetland Trail was at its wildest and most untamed. When it officially opens in the summer, it will have boardwalk and other facilities to prevent visitors from damaging the mangroves as they trek through.
"Once we get going, we don't want to charge kids for coming in and exploring the Howard Cooke Boulevard Park and Wetland Trail, but we will have to put restrictions in place to determine a quota for the number of persons who can walk through the trail at any one time," says Jill Williams, Executive Director of the Marine Park. "Boardwalks will also be put in to facilitate movement along the trail, so as not to cause damage to the mangroves."
Rest stops (with benches) and bird feeding stations will also be a part of the mix.
Before I go, let me jolt your mind to the gold mine, on which Montego Bay is sitting. The resort town could rake in millions of dollars in foreign exchange from the wetland walking trail, as the number of birdwatchers in the world has grown tremendously in recent times. In the U.S. alone, there are some 71 million bird watchers who, last year, spent $42 billion on their hobby, according to a national survey by the Audubon Society.
