There's always a bit of regret when we leave a place we've enjoyed and been comfortable. There's always a bit of apprehension mixed with anticipation and exhilaration as we haul anchor and head out of a harbor and across a vast ocean. What's out there? How will the weather be? What will break this time? How long will it take us?
Read MoreWhile we were in the museum, a reasonable group of people arrived and so what we thought would be a small intimate group tour became a rather large crowd. The guide was bilingual. He would provide a long dissertation in French and then about a sentence in English. Sometimes the French was easier to understand than his English, but we got the gist of what he was saying. We were provided with hard hats for the cave portion of the tour and headed out, en masse, along a rocky trail.
We climbed down a large flight of wooden stairs onto a boardwalk which wound through thick foliage. Our first stop was a close-up view of several of the rare “blonde bats” (pteropus roderiensis) that are endemic to the island. They were on the verge of extinction back in 1970 when only 120 remained, but intense conservation efforts and captive breeding has increased their numbers to near 3,000 now. Looking at their little faces, you can see why some folks call them flying fox.
We entered the wide expanse of Tiyel Canyon with high limestone walls all around us and there, before us, were the tortoises. There are purportedly over 2,000 individuals here, comprised of two different species: Giant Aldabra and Radiated … neither of which are endemic to Rodrigues, but are endemic to the other Mascerene Islands particularly Aldabra Island in the Seychelles. We've seen giant tortoises in the past … the Galapagos, for instance, but certainly not as many and certainly not as active as these guys.
We were encouraged by the tour guide to pet them, especially stroking under their long necks which they seemed to not only tolerate, but to enjoy. The oldest and largest tortoise was Henri … estimated to be 110 years old and about 550 lbs (250kg). I'm not sure petting a tortoise ever appeared on my bucket list, but I'm glad I got the chance to do it.
We wandered around amongst these gentle old giants, stroking some and observing them as they ate and hauled their huge shells to shady areas to relax. It was a Jurassic Park sort of feeling.
We climbed another long flight of stairs out of the canyon and looked down from the rim for a more expansive view of the tortoises below, then headed to the Grande Caverne. Quite honestly, we've seen and toured many caves, so we weren't all that enthused about seeing more, but there was no alternative. After tolerating the bright, hot sun for over an hour, the cool temps of the cave were quite appealing.
The tour guide prattled on in French, with an interspersed phrase in English once in awhile. We had planned on an hour tour and we were over two hours at this point, very ready for a sit-down. On we trudged, through narrow passages, ducking to avoid hitting our heads. I'm glad we had on hard hats, because I bonked my head several times en route with a very loud thud. The tour guide did the obligatory spiel on stalactites and stalagmites, then shut off of all the lights to show how dark it was in a cave and then we proceeded up the stairs to bright daylight and hot temps once again.
Back at the Reserve Center, we found a bench and shared some water and apples before we began the long trek back to the bus stop. For some reason, the return trip always seem shorter and easier and there's always something new to see. When Joshua Slocum visited Rodrigues back in the 1890s, he remarked about buying a whole sack of pomegranates. We noticed a tree with pomegranate fruit on it on our walk back, but we hadn't seen any in the marketplace.
One of the “hope to sees” on my list was the Rodrigues fody and the Rodrigues warbler … both endemic species and endangered. I wasn't quite sure what I was looking for, but when I saw a bright scarlet bird in a tree, I was pretty sure it was a fody. Well, it was, but it was a Madagascar red fody, not a Rodrigues one, and quite common, it seems. We'll continue our search for a Rodrigues fody and warbler another day.
The bus schedules in Rodrigues are interesting in that they are “suggestions” of times rather than actual schedules. We knew what time we were dropped off, but we weren't sure what time the bus was returning. When we had asked, the answer was every 40 minutes. “What time in the afternoon at this particular stop?”, we queried. “40 minutes after the previous bus”, was the answer. In other words, we had no idea what time to expect the bus. We saw a young lady with a parasol walking at a fast pace in the general direction of the bus. We kept pace with her and as we neared the main road, we could hear the heavy-duty engine of the bus approaching. She ran ahead and flagged down the bus and we tromped along behind her. We were glad for a seat and a rest for the one hour ride back to Port Mathurin, although after our estimated 20km (12miles) of walking, we were a bit stiff when the bus arrived at the port and we still had a ways to walk back to the boat. Another ibuoprofen evening, but a day well spent.
There was nothing in our 2006 version guide book about a tortoise reserve on Rodrigues, but other cruisers had mentioned visiting so we inquired about it at the Visitor Center. The Francois Leguat Giant Tortoise and Cave Reserve was open daily and located on the southwest end of the island and, yes, a bus went nearby (maybe a little walk). We checked at the bus station, confirmed departure times and made plans for an early morning departure. The buses here are similar to those in most third world countries. They're old, rough-running, brightly colored and have endearing names like Lover's Choice, Prince and New Roshni Princess. We reconfirmed we were on the right bus and sat back for a cross-island adventure.
We asked the money collector fellow to let us know when to get off the bus. He was very pleasant and accommodating as he collected our 31 Rps each (about a $1) for what turned out to be a 1:05 hr ride.
The narrow paved road out of Port Mathurin was all up. A series of switchbacks had the bus chugging loudly and laboriously up above the port. The views of the sea below, even from our bus window, were beautiful.
Bus stops were frequent and it took significant effort for the little bus to get moving again up the steep incline. We stopped in several little towns … Mont Lubin, Petit Gabriel, La Ferme, La Fouche. It was a school day and all the kids were in uniforms getting to school.
After about 45 minutes, I glanced at him inquiringly and he nodded “Just a little longer.” Finally, we saw a sign for the Reserve, the bus stopped and the conductor motioned us to get off and pointed towards a rather narrow road up a hill. “It's about a 20-25 minute walk”, he said.
We walked … and walked … and walked … up hills, down hills, around corners, up more hills. We were walking at a reasonable clip and after 25 minutes, we kind of expected the Reserve to be right around the corner. It wasn't. We saw another sign … at least we were heading in the right direction. One thing about walking, you get to see lots of things you'd miss if you were whizzing by in a car. We saw small houses and lots of goats and cows. The earth is bright red and there were lots of flowers and a few gardens along the way. The land was rocky and not very arable. Some industrious folks had terraced the land to make it as useful as possible.
PVC water pipes lay along side the road like black snakes, sometimes crossing above the road to get to the desired destination. We met a few people walking along and they all smiled and wished us a “bonjour” as they passed. One remarkable sight was the number of gigantic spiders in huge webs between utility wires and tree branches. Not just one spider, mind you, but we counted as many as 17 in one massive web. I learned later that these are red-legged golden orb-web spiders (Nephila inaurata), native to several Indian Ocean islands. They're non-poisonous, but even birds and bats get caught in their huge, strong, sticky webs. Evidently, they normally string several webs together to form enormous "homes" in order to cover as much surface area as possible. Great to know, so I can avoid them at all costs.
About 45 minutes into our “little” walk, we saw another sign announcing 500m to the Reserve. The entrance road was dirt … uneven, rough and rutted. Volcanic rock poked up in the fields alongside the road, but up ahead, it looked like maybe we had arrived.
We pay our entrance fee of $295Rps ($10US) and looked for a place to relax for a few minutes. There was a guided tour leaving immediately. We begged off in favor of a cup of coffee in the pleasant little outdoor resto (restaurant) and booked ourselves on the next tour. In the meantime, we sipped our Nescafes and watched our little piece of the the world go by. As we sipped our coffee, a very unexpected turkey hen gobbled by a few feet from us, with her brood close by. You just never know what to expect.
We were invited to visit the little museum while we waited. No one else was around and it was dark when we entered. Motion sensing lights popped on as we moved from one small room to the next. One room was dedicated to the discovery of the island and its volcanic origins. Displays of early maps decorated the walls. A larger room displayed the flora and fauna of the island and was quite interesting.
The island was teeming with native wildlife when the Europeans first arrived. Tortoises by the thousands roamed the land. Birdlife was plentiful including the“solitaire” (like a dodo bird), but all were traded or eaten to extinction in a period of of about 50 years. Now only one fruit bat species is all that remains of endemic mammals. There are only two endemic bird species still around and they are considered endangered.
Hi there and welcome to Just A Little Further!
We are David and Marcie Lynn and we've lived aboard our Liberty 458 cutter-rigged sailboat since 2000.
What began as an urge to travel slowly and economically at our own pace ended up an adventure of a lifetime.
Well, here we are ... nearly 90,000 miles under the keel, 5 continents, 5 Great Southern Capes, 36 countries and almost two decades later, still taking one passage at a time and going just a little further.
