Jaguar (Panthera onca)

I wanted to share a special encounter I had in a different corner of the upper Amazon Basin - I call this one "Breakfast with a Jaguar." Many years ago I was in Bolivia’s crown jewel, Madidi National Park, guiding an ecotour for GreenTracks. With regard to the upper Amazon Basin, this region has some endemic species but there is a lot of overlap with eastern Peru. It was real work to get into the area we visited but once there, we spent our days hiking across huge stands of primary forest. We enjoyed the edges of streams where hundreds of butterflies greedily lapped up salts left by receding waters on the banks. There were orchids, strange fungi, and mats of epiphytic plants unlike any I had seen before. We got the howler monkey serenade each morning with a roar that sounded like storms off in the distance. We canoed in lakes and streams where caiman thrive (Caiman crocodilus, and Paleosuchus palpebrosus), with constant rumors of the presence of giant individuals of the reclusive Black Caiman (Melanosuchus niger).
I had never been in forest like this. When I say “forest like this,” what I mean is it took four days of hard travel to get there: by commercial airliner, then military transport, then motorized canoe, and finally on foot. Trees with trunks ten feet across (or more) were everywhere. I wondered how many centuries old they were? In places, the canopy towered 30 or more meters (100+ feet) above us. Thick clouds of mist wafted along creeks and trails. The sounds of dozens of birds and insects echoed through the heavy forest air. This place had never experienced logging rigs, never had the screech of rush hour traffic rattle through its branches, nor had it been exposed to the stench of fresh industrial contaminants.
It’s hard to put into words but there was much more going on in this forest. The hardest thing to explain is how this forest felt. I was struck immediately by its energy. It sounds corny but the essence of this place was as real as anything that I saw or listened to while there. One of the things I love the most about guiding ecotours is watching people’s faces as they experience the magnificence of rainforest. Their expressions and the connection with the forest make all the effort worthwhile. This time, everyone had the same sensations and everyone felt what I did.
Birds and monkeys loudly announced sunrise as we made our way across a hilly, fog-shrouded trail. A rain the previous evening had left everything dripping. The smell of decomposing vegetation hung heavy in the air. Dozens of birds chattered in the distance. The group was far to the rear as I hiked up a hillside. The bird sounds became much louder and, as I crested the hill and made my way around the buttress of a massive tree, the reason became apparent. A large palm had dropped loads of brightly colored ripe fruit on the ground. Parrots in low branches and on the ground created a din that was nearly deafening.
A slight movement caught my eye or perhaps I just got lucky, I’m not sure. I froze in my tracks. Some three meters (~10 feet) from me, and watching the birds from the other side of the tree trunk, was a massive male jaguar (Panthera onca). It was immediately aware of my presence but was obviously as startled as I was. I’m guessing that the sound from the birds had masked my approach. Thoughts flashed through my mind. The idea of a close encounter with a large cat had never bothered me, but now I was having a close encounter with one that appeared to weigh hundreds of pounds! It was amazing to behold: sleek, wonderfully colored and patterned…but it was staring at me. After all the years in tropical forests I’d never seen one up close. It must have been hunting the birds. One word hung up in my thoughts: hunting. The cat could be on me in a single bound and there were no climbable trees within easy reach… Who was I kidding? Jaguars are superb tree climbers. Even with these thoughts, I never felt scared – just aware of what was happening, and of what could happen. An eternity seemed to pass in just a few seconds. My heart was beating rapidly; I felt the blood pulse through my neck. A few more long seconds passed as we stared at one another. Without warning, the cat seemed to decide that I wasn’t that interesting. I watched as it seemed to relax its muscles. With a twitch of its tail, it turned and casually walked toward a patch of thick undergrowth. The movement was fluid and silent but it caught the birds’ attention. In a cloud of bright colors, fluttering wings, and alarm calls, the parrots made their way to the safety of the canopy. The rush distracted me momentarily and when I looked back, the jaguar was gone. It had simply disappeared.
A companion caught up with me at that point and saw the look on my face. I quickly described the encounter and we stood motionless, scanning the undergrowth. Minutes passed in relative silence. We walked perhaps 50 meters down the trail and stopped to listen again. Then in front of us and on the opposite side of the trail a twig snapped. The big cat was still with us! It dawned on me that it had moved over 100 meters (over 325 feet) without making a sound until that twig snapped. It looked on, motionless, from another cluster of thick undergrowth at the edge of a treefall. We stared back in silence. It matched my stare with interest while I grew increasingly uncomfortable. A sound from another hiker drew my gaze, and when I looked back the cat had vanished again. One after another, companions caught up, listened intently, and stood quietly searching the area around us. This time the cat was gone.
I learned a lot that morning: Big cats are silent. Even jaguars can be surprised by unwary hikers. Jaguars can be curious. I’m not nearly as large as an adult jaguar. Jaguars are among the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen in person.
Great experiences continued through that trip. We saw a young jaguar eating an agouti (Dasyprocta sp.) the very next day and a friend at the lodge saw a spectacled bear (Tremarctos ornatus). One key lesson I have learned by making repeat trips to the same general areas of the Amazon, no two trips are alike and you never know what you are going to see on any given hike. The forest is always teaching me things and slowly revealing its secrets. It’s why I continue to go back.