Equaforum
Introduction
Equaforum is Equafor's newsletter. It is distributed to those donors of the trust who request to be kept informed of the trust's work, and to the general public at events where Equafor has a presence.The articles are invited from readers. They should be aimed at a general readership on topics related to rainforest ecology and to conservation in general.
For a copy of the latest issue of Equaforum, please contact:
Equafor,
10,Stocksbank Drive,
Mirfield,
West Yorkshire.
WF14 0HB
Email: 101330.611@compuserve.com
As a taster, there follow a few articles from back issues.
What we did on our holidays
(Part One)A visit to the Yorkshire Rainforest Reserve at Bilsa
by John A Briscoe
Mangled by M Hall
El NiÒo, the quixotic pacific ocean current, flowed last christmas, bringing with it torrential rains in the Mache Mountains and preventing the logging companies from further plundering the Bilsa forest. Mud glorious mud!
On the other handå
The Road to Bilsa
Our pickup truck struggled gamely a few km along the track from the main road but, as the terrain became steeper and the mud became deeper we were forced to abandon it at a farmstead and hitch a lift on the local bus (a lorry). Have you ever tried pushing a lorry through the knee deep mud of a tropical rainforest?
We did eventually reach the local town, La Y (which is short for something longer ò like this account) where we were to get a pack horse and a guide to take us to Bilsa. The town consisted of a few stores, stables, houses and a tavern, all around a muddy square, and was overlooked by a small church. Being Sunday, everybody was in the tavern and, being sunday afternoon, they had been there for a very long time and were, quite sensibly, not inclined to take a party of gringos through the mud to what had once been a pig farm.
The man who hired the pack horse to us finally bullied his youngest son into guiding us. So it was not too long before we were setting off on the final leg of the journey, following the boyës confident if surly footsteps.
Health Warning: Dragging oneës family through the mud may be considered justifiable grounds for homicide.
A few hours later, when the sudden nightfall of the tropics was beginning to play a very large part in my mind whenever it could get past the aching of my limbs and the complaining of my stomach (I had long since given up bemoaning the destruction of the forest, signs of which lined both sides of the track we were attempting to wade along), we learnt that our guide had not the faintest idea where the Bilsa reserve was. Nor had the owner of a nearby farmstead.
We tried to console ourselves with the thought that things could hardly get worse as we prepared to trudge back the way we came ò It is the stupid sort of thing you do in that sort of situation ò only to find that, while we had been trying to obtain directions, our guide had dumped our packs and absconded with our horse.
To cut a very tedious story short, almost four hours later, we finally reached our destination ò Bilsa, a bit of Yorkshire in Ecuador.
Yorkshire, Ecuador
Sleep is a wonderful thing to the optimist; it closes the door on horrors past and opens one to a future which can only be bright. The day before we were among people who scrimped a living for a short time by felling the forest. They begin in hope, perhaps, but soon their spirits become as depleted as the landës fertility. It is little wonder that they seek the oblivion of the bottle on their day of rest.
That new day found us among people engaged in labour no less arduous and living in conditions no less primitive than the settlers, but who were sustained by a sense of purpose. It might sound pious but it was infectious.
To reach the part of the reserve which has been designated as the Yorkshire Rainforest Reserve we needed to retrace our weary steps of the night before. It was nothing. A mere several km hike, knee deep in mud presented no obstacle. Even scrambling up and down precipitous slopes was an adventure.
Then we were in our bit of the rainforest and the mists were cleared to paint the world in hazy greens. Naturally, the Yorkshire trees were better than any others. They were more towering, even the small ones. The mosses and ferns, which clung to every surface and which draped from the branches were decidedly more elegant, their olive and khaki tints more tasteful, and the bromeliads and orchids were infinitely more beautiful.
The sounds, too, were superior to any others we had heard. The background chirruping of cicadas and frogs was pleasantly harmonized by the constant dripping of water from the canopy and brightened by the songs of birds. The howler monkeys we could have done without first thing that morning, but I did note an improvement in the howls of those who lived in our part of the forest.
We made frequent stops to film and to take photographs so, if you would like to see our holiday snaps, set aside a couple of weeks or pop along to Tropical World this autumn.
The highlight of the walk was finding the pug mark of a jaguar ò our very own jaguar! Proprietorial delight notwithstanding we were very pleased when our guide gave a shrug and informed us the print was a day old and that we were very unlikely to meet the creature who had made it. I did not like the prospect of my nine year old daughter becoming cat food, not even for a Yorkshire jaguar.
After several pleasant hours spent strolling and after taking a refreshing shower under a waterfall, we headed back to camp. Our guide said that it was not far, but we soon learned that ênot farë has much the same meaning as êmaÒanaë in Spanish.
We did eventually get back and spent the rest of the day flat on our backs in hammocks. The next day we visited the tree nursery, took photographs, filmed, laid a plaque on behalf of the pupils of Heckmondwike Grammar School and tried not to think about the journey back to our pickup truck.
It was with very heavy hearts and legs that we left Bilsa the next morning. Our hearts were heavier still when, two hours later, we passed a bulldozer widening the track into the forest for the logging trucks.
What we did on our holidays
(Part Two)A visit to the jatun Sacha Biological Station on the Rio Napo
by Paul Millard
Mangled by M Hall
The journey to Jatun Sacha began in Coca, along the Loreto road. The first stop of the day was to present our passports at the military checkpoint, where one of us had to appear important and write down everyoneës details while surrounded by teenage recruits who were barely able to lift their rifles. This was shortly after one of Ecuadorës occasional altercations with Peru over the position of their Amazonian border so, perhaps, their suspicion of a truck loaded with foreigners and foliage was understandable. I dare say, a Yorkshire bobby might have had a word or two with someone carrying a ton of nettles and dandelions on the back of a pick-up.
The road on from there had recently been resurfaced. That is to say, it had been bulldozed flattish and covered with a layer of three inch pebbles. This gave the journey a certain thrill whenever a bus or lorry came hurtling towards us, liberally strewing missiles in its wake. Ecuador might be a peaceful country compared to one or two of its neighbours but its people make up for the lack of the excitement which organized crime and guerrilla movements bring with their driving. Our bright shiny pick-up soon had its proper complement of dents, scratches and holed windscreens.
There were few opportunities to collect plants during this part of the journey, as much of forest the region has been felled. There still remains a hint of its former glory in the thickly wooded ravines but, though the tree tops seemed beguiling close to eye level, they were impossible to reach.
Occasionally we would come across where a farmer had recently felled even the most hazardous slopes to gain a few more square meters of grazing; and, usually to his complete amazement, we were able to rescue masses of epiphytes, many of which we could not identify. Unfortunately, the plants we collected are still in Ecuador, awaiting the setting up of a bureaucracy to enact the Rio Summit.
The approach to the regional capital of Tena was saddening. A new highway had been constructed and, where once there had been a lush forest, farmsteads were taking over. My own favourite spot, where dozens of brightly coloured Aechmea cuculata grow in the treetops was still intact, but it probably wonët be so for much longer.
After crossing the Napo we were amazed to find signposts for the reserve, a very pleasant surprise after our visit to Bilsa. The approach, too, was much easier. It was a dirt track, true, and the bridges were rickety and the fords perilous but, at least, we did not need to abandon our truck to get there (Intrepid explorers? ò Ed.).
During our visit to Jatun Sacha, we stayed at CabÌnas AliÒahi. This is an experiment in eco-tourism by the foundation. While the purist might disapprove of any human intrusion into the forest, purism does not pay for the forestës conservation. The cabins present a standard of luxury that past explorers could only have dreamt about. The ants, snake, and resident tarantulas, however, reminded us that we were not far from the jungle.
The main task of our visit was to discuss plans for the development of the Yorkshire Reserve. In particular, we were interested in how the Napo reforestation trials were progressing.
Our guide, the forester, Nixon Revelo, took us on a tour of the tree nursery and trial sites, most of which were pastures which were abandoned when the soils became degraded by over-grazing.
Because of the state of the soils, the main trial trees are species of Inga. This is a leguminous plant which supplies its own nitrogen. It also supplies a valuable food crop. Inga pods are a delicacy. They look like gigantic runner beans. It is not the bean that is eaten, however, but the lining of the pod. The trees, when first planted in the pastures, spend the first half year or so looking as though they are about to die, but suddenly take off into a luxuriant growth which promises the rebirth of the rainforest.
The tree nursery is only the most well-established section of the Reserveës Botanical Garden. At the time of our visit, much of the rest was still under construction, with only the sections devoted to orchids and medicinal plants near completion. While there, we arranged for pupils of Wakefield City High School to assist in the planting of the bromeliad section as part of their expedition. JosÈ Manzanares, an authority on Ecuadorian Bromeliads has offered to supply the specimen plants.
It had been a couple of years since our last visit to the Napo reserve, and we were happily surprised by the advances that had been made. The new buildings and improvements in the research facilities were particular noteworthy, as were the advances being made in the reforestation projects. We hope to see similar strides made at Bilsa by the time we can save up enough to finance another expedition.
What we did on our holidays
(Part Three)A visit to the Jatun Sacha Biological Station at Guandera
by John A Briscoe
Relatively unmangled by M Hall
The Andes comprise two parallel mountain chains running the length of South Americaës Pacific coastline. Separating the chains is a high plateau. The Andean plateau has been settled from ancient times, indeed almost for as long as any centre of civilization in the world. It has seen the rise and fall of empires, both indigenous and foreign. It is not surprising, therefore, that very little of its natural habitat remains. Despite its alien appearance (alien to our eyes) the Andean landscape is as much the product of manës labour as any Yorkshire Dale.
The analogy can be carried further. The temperature and rainfall there is not greatly different to the average in Britain, except in that it is almost constant throughout the year. The sunlight is far more intense, however, and the underlying rocks are metamorphic not sedimentary. Also like in British shires, there are the occasional pockets of ancient woodlands which have escaped manës influence for one reason or another. Such a forest is Guandera.
Clinging to a steep hillside at an altitude of 3,500m, Guandera stretches for 20km, averaging 3km in width. In places, though, it is reduced to a narrow band between potato fields and alpine meadows. The sound of chainsaws, which was a constant drone during our brief visit to the 80 hectare Jatun Sacha reserve, testified to the urgent plight of what remained.
The forest is named after the local name of its most distinctive tree, Clusia flaviflora. Trees on the lower slopes are tall and dense but as the tree line is approached (not easy on precipitous slopes at an altitude where every breath is a struggle) the trees become increasingly dwarfed and gnarled.
What little air there is, however, is pure and, because the trees are slow growing, they are covered with lichen in a bewildering variety of forms and colours. Those lichen exposed to the blazing equatorial sun tend to be silvers and greys for protection. Looked back on, they dazzle the eye.
Being Ecuador, there was no shortage of other epiphytes, of bromeliads and orchids which steal the moisture they need from morning mists and passing clouds. Many bromeliads stand out in the branches, having brilliant red leaves to protect the plant from the high intensity ultra-violet light.
A visit to Guandera, despite the discomforts produced by the altitude is a welcome break from the rainforest. It has the look of home. There were a great many heathers and, what was better, no swarms of biting insects.
