Puerto Maldonado, late December 2018

[cranefly]

Oops.  Forgot I left you hanging...


1/2/2019: Part 3 -- The Brazil Nut Trail -- Still Outward Bound

We're walking along, loosely grouped, deeper into the Brazil nut grove, when a sound startles us.  It's something you'd never expect to hear deep in a rain forest.

"Passing on your left!"

It's Paula, coming back from behind to pass us once more.  She doesn't go far, though.  She's just screwing with us.  Soon she joins us, and she's ready to put on her hiking clothes and hiking shoes.  That's when we discover that one of her hiking shoes bungeed to Mina's backpack is missing.  Paula is bit distressed by that.  "We'll find it on the walk back," Mohsin assures her.

As we're walking onward, we see something on the trail ahead of us.  It's a caterpillar, very striking, and big, maybe three inches long, crawling through dappled sunlight.  Mohsin has us gather around for a good look and to take photos, but warns us not to touch it, as its spines are almost certainly venomous.  This is an open invitation for Stuart to crouch down close and reach out and bring his fingertips within a fraction of an inch of it.  Fortunately, he never makes contact.  He seems amused that everyone thinks he's in danger -- just like when he stood near the edge of that waterfall days ago despite Mohsin's warnings.

The caterpillar:


Moments later, we come upon another caterpillar, and then a third -- all the same kind.  I point out to Mohsin that each of them is crawling in a patch of dappled sunlight on the trail.  We both find that intriguing, but don't know what to make of it.  I suspect they're all mature and looking for a place to spin their cocoon.  I also suspect there are lots of them all around us, on trunks of trees, crawling on the ground, ready to cocoonate.  

It's an amazing type of caterpillar, and once I'm home (hypothetically speaking, as it's still not known that I survive this adventure -- and yes, I'm as much on the edge of my seat as you are), I search for it online and look through various tropical butterfly and moth reference books, in vain.  As Mohsin pointed out at the start of our adventures, this region is largely unexplored, and we may be seeing some new species.  This is certainly a candidate.  It's clearly of the Saturniidae family, whose caterpillars metamorphose into various giant silk moths (not to be confused with the Asian silkmoth whose caterpillar is harvested for its silk), the largest moths in the world, which include the Luna, Cecropia, and Io moths.  Most Saturniid caterpillars are outrageously spined -- and often venomous.

Here's a web photo (taken in northern Costa Rica) of Automeris metzii, which looks similar.

Automeris metzii (not my photo):

 
And here's a web photo (taken in southern Brazil, just to the east of us) of Lonomia oblique, which is also similar, and considered the deadliest caterpillar in the world.

Lonomia oblique (not my photo):


Here's a description of Lonomia obliqua:

Lonomia obliqua (family: Saturniidae) -- world's deadliest caterpillar ("causes inflammatory changes at the site of envenoming, followed by systemic symptoms such as headache, fever, vomiting, and malaise. After 24 hours, a severe bleeding disorder ensues, leading to ecchymosis, hematuria, pulmonary, and intracranial hemorrhages, and acute renal failure.")

I don't know if the caterpillars we're seeing are venomous, but they're similar enough to Lonomia oblique and in that same general area, and I suspect that if Stuart had managed to get himself stung, hours later he would have had some serious problems.

LCF and I move to vanguard, and we come to the fallen tree and brush that blocks the trail (where Paula had ultimately turned around).  We circumvent it and go a bit further.  We take pictures of a few butterflies.  But the camera continues to have problems with the high humidity.  Soon Mohsin rounds us all up and says it's getting late, and we'd best turn back.  So we turn around and head back towards the ecolodge.