By Michael R. Cornish
Travel, travel we did. But before we
did, we packed. We packed for a place I did not know, a place I could not
imagine. All we knew was that far up in
the mountains near the continental divide, a man by the name Don Carlos ran a
farm of some sort that was surrounded by preserve of dense, cool
rainforest. We were still in Palo Verde,
a National Park in the province of Guanacaste, whose’ hot, humid air made it
hard to image cool mountains. Once
packed, we loaded into the tube-shaped “coaster” bus and began our journey
towards the province of San Jose. Four
hours pass; freshly-tilled rice fields with wood storks and rare jabirus looking
for small fish and insects in muddy puddles, the pacific coastline of
Guanacaste with large Dole container
ships listing in the swell, and finally, the mountains of San Jose. After a quick stop at the OTS headquarters,
we departed for the preserve. As we
drove two more hours, the road took us up into the clouds. The mountains were
shrouded in mist, concealing their immense height. Unlike intrepid explorers, we dosed off, not
knowing where we were nor where we were going.
We awoke and got out of the coaster
to a misty rain that made the cool air feel even colder. The preserve was on a road to tight for the
bus, so we walked the few kilometers down the its steep grade. Eventually, we arrived; a building made of
rough-cut logs fit together in a shingle-like fashion and covered in a steel
corrugated roof had a sign labeled “Estación Biológica Cuericí”. We had
arrived.
The station, as expected, was
surrounded by luscious forest with epiphytic plants draping the branches of the
moss-covered leaves. A hike even had us see one of the only species of bird I
had heard of before coming here, the resplendent quetzal. All of these sights were astoundingly
unfamiliar. This, however, was contrasted by what I least expected yet very
familiar.
Hailing from the green mountains of
Vermont, cool, clear streams encased by coniferous trees are a familiar sight.
And in the clearness of these streams, swam small trout that I enjoyed catching. As we were given a tour of Cuericí by Don
Carlos Solano and his daughter Ana (who now runs the farming aspect of the
property), a series of pools of different sizes came into view that bubbled
with the motion of hundreds of trout.
With the surroundings being so unfamiliar, the silhouettes of the fish
and their conspicuous swimming patterns reminded me of home. This, however,
proved to not only be a reminder of home, but also an amazing system that Don
Carlos built.
In a series of long, narrow pools,
Don Carlos keeps the smaller fish that are still growing. With each successive
pool, the size of the fish gets bigger. When nearing maturity, they are placed
in a larger pond that is below those pictured.
This, however, is where it gets interesting; not only does Don Carlos raise
trout but he also breeds them. When the fish would normally begin their
migration up into smaller streams, Don Carlos opens up a small channel up which
the breeding adults swim, thinking that it is a stream. Eggs and sperm are then taken from choice fish
and the fertilized eggs are placed into irrigated trays to develop and hatch. The newborn fish (fry) go through a series of
tanks as they grow, eventually to be placed into these pictured pools.
Once the fish mature and are ready
for harvest, they are caught and put into pools that have especially clean
water. This, Don Carlos says, improves the taste of the fish if they are kept
there for a week or so before harvesting them.
The result of his efforts are large, beautiful, rainbow trout or in
Spanish, “trucha”, like the one pictured below.
Being
able to see the system was a truly unique and amazing experience. While our main interests in this course lie
in natural systems, it was quite fascinating to observe one created and
manipulated by the human hand in such a way.
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