In 1992, Tippi's sister, Nancy, and brother-in-law Darell were teaching at the American School in Caracas. Tippi and Larry joined them during the Christmas break for a stay at the Hato Dona Barbara, a working ranch and nature preserve in the llanos region of Venezuela. Darell is an avid bird watcher and hoped to add to his life-list; the rest of us, having never had ranch experience, were looking forward to the horses and whatever else the llanos might bring.

 

 

Back in Pittsburgh, a Venezuelan acquaintance had warned that the country was going through hard times and that perhaps this was not the year to visit. But this was the year our family was there and the hard times had not translated into Anti-American sentiment. We decided to go anyway.
My advice is that it is a bad idea to travel in a country in turmoil if you don't have to. We were never threatened physically, but were plagued by wild-cat strikes, changed schedules, difficult connections.

After a few days in Caracas, we flew to San Fernando de Apure. The plane was very late in leaving and we missed the bus for Montecal at the other end. A taxi was arranged, which took us to the little town of Montecal where we were to meet the car from Hato Dona Barbara. Francesco and Carmen, son and daughter of the Estrada family, were waiting for us there. They would be our guides during our stay at the ranch.
We piled into the back of their vehicle, an open jeep/land rover type, and began the trek to the ranch. Knowing that we were interested in wild life, there were many stops. We saw capybara at a distance, and a giant anteater close up, as we waited for him to cross the trail.
December marks the beginning of the dry season; during the rainy season much of this route is under water. The road is built up on a levee, and there were many pools of water still evaporating on either side. Most of the wet season birds were still there, cleaning out the fish from the ever diminishing ponds. Darell added 40 birds to his list on the ride to the ranch, and was very pleased. He added another 45 during our stay at the ranch. The birds are listed on the sidebar; we all saw most of them but not being interested in the particulars I only remember the significant few. There was a lot of kidding about the Thick Knees and the green rumped parrot for their funny names; we were enchanted by the Scarlet Ibis and Macaws, and who could ever forget a Hoatzin, once you have seen one?

One afternoon we went fishing -- for piranah! We drove to a landing on the Aurauca where a boat was waiting, and we motored up the river a short distance. This gave us the opportunity to look for river birds!
Finally Francesco turned the boat towards the tree-shrouded shore, and tied up to a large tree overhanging the river. What a loud tree it was - noisy with screeching squawking birds.
"These are the Hoatzin" he told us. They are a very primitive bird, about the size of chickens, with bright blue faces and a crown of golden head feathers. There were dozens of Hoatzin in that tree, and kept up their clamor the entire time we were there. Dozens to hear and glimpse, our only picture was not a very good one.
Francesco and his assistant baited our lines with chunks of beef and we threw them in the water, which began to churn and boil with the activity of the piranah. Legend has it that they can skeletonize a cow in 2 minutes. Soon we began to pull fish from the river. We let the experienced Venezuelans take the catch off the hooks and rebait them.
We fished for an hour or so, and then, reluctantly said goodbye to the Hoatzin tree and headed back to the ranch, where our catch would be cooked for our supper. At let me say they were delicious! The flesh of the piranah cheek is especially sweet.

 

The Hato Dona Barbara was named for a historical person who ran the ranch in the mid 1800's. Dona Barbara was strong and agressive and would stand up to any man. She was also an astute business woman. Under her manaagement, the ranch prospered, and she became something of a folk heroine. About 10 years ago, a production company came to the ranch to shoot a film about Dona Barbara. They built a hacienda just like the one she would have lived in, and left it there when they completed their shoot. For an owner of such a large ranch, she lived in very simple circumstances.

We left the ranch late on New Year's Day. There was nothing open between the ranch and San Fernando - no restaurants, no rest stops, nothing. What a long ride it was! As we were speeding along the straight, open highway through the dark night when something flew up in front of the taxi and hit the windshield! We stopped to investigate, but found nothing. But when we finally arrived at our hotel in San Fernando, and began to unload our luggage from the roof rack, there was a very large, very dead ibis, which had been thrown onto the roof by the impact.
At first, Darell wanted to take the dead bird back to Caracas and stuff it. The rest of us prevailed, reminding him of the military security guards in the airport, checking all luggage and frisking each passenger before we were allowed to board. "What do you think the airport security guard will say when they inspect your luggage and find this carcass there?" And so the bird was beheaded and beclawed in the hotel bathtub and the body disposed of in a nearby park trash can. We returned to Caracas the next day without incident; Darell and Nancy took a bus to their apartment (bird head in hand) and we braved the enormous crowds waiting to fly back to the US.