Vol 1 - The Trinidad and Tobago Field Naturalists' Club

Page 26 THE FIELD NATURALIST Issue No. 1/2013assured us that he would be there, that DrBones and his cronies would drive him downto the capital to catch the sailing of the"Starlight V."I had had no time to make any other arrangementsto fly back to Trinidad, and Isteeled myself to having to make the returntrip on the schooner. We left Sauteurs, shakingour collective heads in disbelief at whatwe had encountered so far, and felt fortunatethat we had at least the promise of onemonkey, and we did have a bag full of thechoicest colours and sizes of the beautifulGrenada sarpints.But we were badly in need of a bath. Terryhad managed to sit under the sputteringstandpipe as he soaked his head to dissipatethe alcohol from the night before, but Juliusand I were feeling the effects of the last twodays, and the rising heat in the car in themorning as the sun heated up the day impelledus to search for the river pool thatJulius assured us should be somewhereinland on the road back to the capital. Weturned inland at a sign that pointed to a waterfall,and after a few miles of winding roadthat threaded its way between plantations ofcocoa, coffee and bananas, we emerged at acrossroad.Here the road widened, and a paved area offto the side provided parking for any touristcars, the occupants of which may have beenencouraged to take in the mediocre sight ofa jungle river pouring over a modest fall andinto a basin of brooding greenish-black water.As we drew up and began to get out of thecar, we were mobbed by a gaggle of skinnyyoung men who clamoured to be our guidesto see the waterfall, which, after all, was alreadyin plain sight. They mistook us fortourists, which I suppose, technically, wewere, and were quite dismayed when welaughed off their exhortations in our recognizableTrinidadian accents. They were alsoadamant that no one but they were traditionallyknown to swim in the basin, whenthey saw us take towels out of the back ofthe car and begin to make our way down therutted path towards the pool by these menand the waterfall.Getting to the pool-side, a quick glance atthe floating debris on the surface of the water,and the splashing mob of young boys andmen churning up the water, and the incessantplummeting jumps from a ledge above thepool of these same men, who began to shoutand haggle us to pay to see them jump offthe ledge, which they were accustomed tooffering to embarrassed and intimidatedtourists as a pale imitation of the cliff-diversof Acapulco. With knowing looks of assentwe decided we would seek our bath elsewhere,and without hurting any feelings welet the occupants of the pool know that wehad been there before (both figuratively anduntruthfully) and, in fact, were more interestedin whether they had seen any snakes inthe area, either the sarpints or, especially, thelocal "black snake" or "cribo."Incredulity, as usual, gave way to interest atthe offer of a reward for spotting a snake,and word spread rapidly through the twentyor so men in and around the pool. As webegan to make our way back up to the car