Mahaica River

Today we arose before dawn and journeyed southeastward on a narrow two-lane highway hugging Guyana's coastline. Our destination was the Mahaica River, one of the country's smaller drainages. Narrow and placid, it flows through scattered small farms, lined with rice fields and edged with the tangled scrubby vegetation that Guyana's national bird, the bizarre, primitive Hoatzin, favors. Unfortunately, the rain was steady and unrelenting through much of the morning.

Our boatman, Narish, is a farmer along the Mahaica. He loves the Hoatzins, and works to convince his neighbors to maintain some habitat for them.

This Limpkin truly was limping; it only appeared to have one working leg. The injury didn't seem to be hindering it much, as it was still pulling earthworms from this wet field with surprising frequency.

An afternoon visit to Georgetown's botanical gardens brought views of a tree full of courting Great Egrets. Those spectacular plumes almost led to the species' demise in the early part of the last century, when it became fashionable to decorate women's hats with feathers. Whole colonies were destroyed for the millinery trade.