For the past two days we’ve been smirking at the herds of tourists getting prodded onto their cattle boats like so many sheep going off for their daily excursions only to come limping home later in the day. Today it was our turn to become one of the flock and get goaded up the chute onto an overstuffed panga full of Euros heading down to Corcovado National Park. They squeezed 28 of us aboard one of the ubiquitous aqua green boats and throttled it up for the one hour cruise down to the park. The ocean was rough from last night’s deluge of a thunderstorm and the hull slammed repeatedly on the surface every time we crested a swell.

The captain rushed in over the incoming surf, spun the boat around and we all hopped into the knee deep water to make our way into the park. Our guide was Estefani, a sweet young lady from the local area who did the official coursework to become a park guide for the government. Each group was comprised of eight people to a guide. And there were a lot of us. No feeling you are alone among the natural elements in Corcovado, it’s you and 200 of your best friends trudging the road of happy destiny through the park.

But, even still, the animals didn’t seem to mind. We quickly came upon another group admiring a cassowary bird in the bushes and we all gathered for a good gaggle too. Estefani had keen spotting skills and pointed out critters we never would have had a clue were there. A sloth you could barely discern in the foilage of a ficus, howler monkeys, spider monkeys and some bats hidden up in a strangler fig. We wandered the jungle hunting for wildlife beneath gray skies threatening more rain.

On a different trail, we found squirrel monkeys playing in the trees, then later a pair of them feeding on some fallen fruit along the trail. The slightest motion in the treetop caught our guide’s eye and we got a pretty good look at an anteater moving through the canopy. The trail came out on to the beach where I was hoping to spot a danta, Baird’s tapir. But we had no luck. The Dutch people in our group were disappointed too but they are nocturnal so are not always easy to find (dantas, not Dutch people). We had 2 Hollanders, 2 Germans and a Chepeno Tico in our group.

We hiked back up to the grassy landing strip and made our way to the Sirena ranger station where you can bunk up in outdoor beds with nets for a price if you please. There are research areas, a gift shop and a makeshift soccer field. We queued up for a buffet lunch and sat with our group chatting while enjoying a Casado lunch.

After lunch, it seemed the whole contingent of visitors were marching zombie like in a mass herd racing back to the boats. I was feeling a bit deluded and tourist tacky plodding along with the multitude. That is, until Estefani and another guide slipped off the main trail for a few minutes and came back excited to let us know that we’d found Costa Rica’s largest terrestrial mammal, the danta! We took turns going in to have a peek. Snoozing in a mud hole was an adult tapir resting up for tonight’s foraging. Made my day and put the smile back on my face.

The boats were lined up to cram us in and jam back up the coast. Our driver was goaded into a downstream race with another panga driver. We bumped and slammed our way along the coastline throwing up spray and sending shock waves up our spines. Made good time going home. Rolling with the south swells instead of into them.

The rest of the day was spent resting up and watching all the beautiful birds that visit our balcony. Macaws, toucans, chackalacas and a bunch of little colorful species I have no clue what they are. Boats coming and going and maybe just a peak of the sun at the end of the day