Tag: Capuchin monkeys

Monkey Wars

So, so cute!  Really, who couldn’t love monkeys?

They are definitely part of the Costa Rican nature experience.  Every other time we’ve been to Costa Rica we’ve encountered them.  In nature preserves and national parks, next to our rentals, near restaurants, hanging on the power lines.  Even watched them from an infinity pool on the Osa peninsula.   They are everywhere. We’ve seen three of the four species in the country—howlers, white-faced, and spiders. The only one we haven’t seen is the very rare squirrel monkey.

But this trip we’ve only had a fleeting glimpse of them — very disappointing.  In fact, one of our travel companions, Denise, an animal lover, was quite upset and worried that she would get back home never having seen a monkey.  And we were coming to the end of our visit. It was our last four days and we were now up near Monteverde in the Cloud Forest. Desperation time!

Early morning birding near Curi-Concha Reserve, but no monkeys

We had an easy solution.  We’d been told by our favorite birding guide, Adrian Mendez, [adrianmendez@hotmail.com] if you want to see the white-faced monkeys, go to Stella’s, a local coffee shop. You’ll definitely see them there busily trying to steal food from unsuspecting patrons eating outside.  It reminded us of our first encounter years ago when they tried to grab our backpacks in Manual Antonio National Park. The park now bans tourists from bringing in any food because the monkeys got so used to human food they couldn’t feed themselves and died off during Covid when the park was closed for two years.  So we were all set to head to Stella’s for a lunch for our up close and personal encounter with monkeys.

But as luck would have it, we didn’t have to leave our vacation rental at all. We had booked a lovely rental outside of Santa Elena.  Beautiful serene setting, lovely views of trees complete with a stream just below our house, and surrounded by the Cloud Forest jungle.  We could sit on our wrap around  balcony and bird watch from armchairs. 

Nearby there was a large colony of Montezuma oropendolas. It is a spectacularly beautiful bird with a very unpleasant, noisy call.  The birds build large hanging nests high up trees—an amazing feat of engineering given the high winds in this region. 

Peter was outside watching the oropendolas when he yelled “Monkeys!” “Denise, come quick!”  We all grabbed our cameras and phones and ran outside.  From the yard we could see several white-faced monkeys, snapping off the bromeliads in the trees and eating the juicy base of each plant.  Cute.  So cute. 

We keep moving around to get a better look—first outside the house under the trees and then on to the balcony as the monkeys got closer and closer. 

Now we realized there weren’t just several monkeys, but a lot of monkeys. 

They rip off the bromeliads and eat the base of each plant

We were happily snapping photos and taking videos when we saw a large male getting closer and closer.  He was focused on us.  Maybe even glaring at us.  We just kept taking pictures of the cute ones.

And he kept moving closer until he was on a branch just ten feet or so from our balcony viewing point.  We continued taking pictures. Obviously, we missed his message.  The fangs came out, the snarling began.  He started charging up and down the branch very excitedly now only a few feet from us. 

Wisely, we quickly retreated inside, closed and locked the sliding glass door, and watched from a  large bedroom window. He glared at us through the window, and then for emphasis he snapped a large branch off and threw to the ground. 

But as a final parting gesture, he turned around, pointed his ass at us, and shit.  Yes, we did indeed get the message.  

About a half an hour later, we were in the kitchen retelling the story when he showed up again outside the sliding glass door, snarling at us. He broke another branch off an ornamental tree. And then with special emphasis grabbed the lid off the recycle bin and tossed to the ground looking straight at us! So there! Just in case we hadn’t received the earlier message. We locked the kitchen sliding glass door, and every other door and window in the house. 

Sitting in the living room, we watched the whole troop march by, babies and all, as though they were patrolling the perimeter of their territory.

We worried. Could we make it to the car to go to dinner? As we left that evening we were startled to see a white faced monkey sitting by the car.  Was it him?  Waiting in ambush?  The monkey ran to the other side of the car. We drew straws to see who had to go out first.  

That night Denise didn’t sleep very well.  Every unidentified sound might be a monkey trying to break in.  

But she had seen her monkeys.  

No More Monkey Business

We’re back in Costa Rica for the third time. The first time was six years ago and then again in 2022 when we were first traveling as the pandemic became more manageable. We planned this year’s trip to take us to some new places and revisit our favorite “been there & done that’s.” The repeat visits generated comparisons — Is the traffic worse here? Are the prices higher this year?

Probably making such comparisons is inevitable and probably largely guesswork. But without a doubt the pandemic left it’s mark on Costa Rica.

One of Costa Rica’s biggest tourist attractions — Manuel Antonio National Park — is not the biggest park in Costa Rica, but sits reasonably close to the capital with gorgeous beaches. Six years ago, the beaches in the park were packed with families and tourists — and outnumbering the human visitors were the ever vigilant White-faced Monkeys (also known as Capuchin). Notoriously clever thieves, they were constantly on the lookout for bags or purses that might contain food. We were warned never to set our bags down as the monkeys were lightening fast at stealing them — often carrying them up into a tree and disdainfully throwing down all the non-edible items inside. As we walked the paths, we stepped around and over the mama monkeys and their babies. You had to get dozen of yards away from the beach and the picnickers to get a sense of the real park. On our visit this year, we struggled to see even one White-faced Monkey.

Why the change? The pandemic. The park was closed that first year. The park naturalists noticed monkeys began dying from starvation. Many of them had lost the ability to forage for food when there were no tourist backpacks to raid. This triggered a re-examination of park procedures. Now entry is limited and requires a reservation. Visitors are checked at the entry gates to make sure they don’t bring in any food that might attract the monkeys. As a result, the park is less crowded and is cleaner and, most importantly, the monkeys have reverted to their more natural state.

Without the monkeys lurking about, and with the help of our guide, we were able to focus on the other critters of the park. An immature sloth sleeping in a tree with mama watching from not too far away.

A lizard and a Fer de Lance snake patiently waiting for their meals to wander by.

An agouti mom and her two little ones, playing in the underbrush.

Anyone planning a trip to Manuel Antonio needs to remember the park is closed one day a week for repairs, cleaning and to give nature a chance to rebound — unless, of course, you can pay $36,000 as film production crews (scenes from The Castaway with Tom Hanks were filmed here) and the famous (Steven Spielberg, and Will Smith to name a few) do in order to have the beaches to themselves.

Costa Rica takes its natural beauty seriously. Roughly 28% of the country’s total land is set aside as national parks or nature reserves. School tour groups get in the parks free and we were told by our guide that annual visits to the park are a routine part of the curriculum to build a national sense of pride and consensus to preserve the bio-diversity.

Yes, it is different here now after the pandemic but some of the changes are definitely better for both tourists and the animals. Pura Vida!