Jo’s Travel Blogs

Thursday 17 September

We had booked a Jaguar Photographic Safari to the Pantanal with Henrique Olsen. Henrique Olsen is a Brazilian wildlife photographer, videographer and passionate conservationist, with an incredible knowledge of the Pantanal and its wildlife. He has spent years working in this remarkable region, particularly photographing jaguars. Having chanced upon his website 18 months previously, we knew that this was the kind of trip we wanted to do.

We flew from Heathrow with LATAM Airways, via São Paulo, to Cuiabá. It’s 11½ hours to São Paulo and then just over another 2 hours to Cuiabá. I’m not a great fan of long-haul flights, but unfortunately they are a necessary evil if you want to travel to some of the more far-flung parts of the world.

Probably the cruelest innovation in long-haul flying is the advent of the in-flight moving map. Apparently, data shows that nearly half of passengers watch the map rather than movies or TV. For me, though, it makes the flight seem endless. The little plane icon moves so slowly that its progress is almost imperceptible to the human eye, while the countdown to your destination seems to have the uncanny ability to actually slow down time, especially on night flights.

And yet, despite hating it, I’m completely addicted to it. I’m fascinated by where we’re flying over and always find myself checking it to see exactly where we are.

Finally, we landed in Cuiabá, and the transfer through São Paulo had been much smoother than I’d expected, despite having to collect our bags and then check them in again for the onward flight.

We stayed at Hotel Fazenda, just a 20-minute drive from the airport, and fortunately managed to get an early check-in. It was a slightly strange place, but it had quite nice gardens with a few birds around. After the long journey, though, we mostly spent the day relaxing and getting excited about the adventure ahead.

Cuiabá is known as the gateway to the wetlands of the Northern Pantanal and is the capital of the Brazilian state of Mato Grosso. The city dates back to the 18th-century gold rush, when it was founded following local discoveries of gold. Mato Grosso literally means ‘Thick Bush’ and the state contains three major ecosystems: the Cerrado, the Pantanal and the Amazon.

It’s also Brazil’s ‘bread basket’, leading the nation in grain production, while supporting more than 30 million head of cattle. Not quite the wildlife we’d come to see, but we were about to head into one of the greatest wildlife destinations on the planet.

Friday 18 September

Alessandro (Ali) met us at the hotel at 10am with a driver, and we set off on the 120km journey to Pousada Piuval Lodge. The lodge is situated on a 7,000-hectare cattle ranch, which somehow manages to combine cattle farming with creating a haven for wildlife. It sounded like exactly the sort of place we were hoping for.

After leaving Cuiabá, we took the road towards Poconé. On the outskirts of the town we spotted the unmistakable shape of the Statue of Liberty. It belonged to a chain of shops and, apparently, having a Statue of Liberty outside every one is just their thing!

We crossed the Cuiabá River, which later in the week we would encounter much further downstream while searching for jaguars. The Cuiabá and Paraguay are two of the main rivers flowing through the Pantanal.

The landscape was incredibly flat, broken only occasionally by strange, huge mounds of earth, remnants of the area’s gold-mining industry. Originally, gold was found in surface deposits that were relatively easy to exploit, but those deposits have long since been exhausted. The remaining gold is buried much deeper and requires heavy machinery, deep open-pit excavations and complex chemical processing to extract.

Unfortunately, mercury is also used in the process. It binds to tiny particles of gold, forming a heavy substance called amalgam, which is then heated with a blowtorch. Because mercury has a much lower boiling point than gold, it evaporates into the air as a highly toxic gas, leaving the gold behind. The environmental consequences can be devastating, as excess mercury finds its way into rivers, where it is absorbed by fish and ultimately enters the food chain.

We passed numerous cattle farms along the way. The cattle here are mostly Nelore, whose striking white coats help reflect the intense tropical sun. We also spotted the distinctive Pantaneiro horses, descended from Iberian horses brought to Brazil by the Spanish in the 16th century.

The Pantaneiro horse is synonymous with the local cowboys and has developed some incredible adaptations to life in the wetlands. Their hooves are exceptionally dense and resistant because they often have to work with their feet completely submerged in water. A normal hoof would soon deteriorate. They can even close their nostrils and submerge their heads to feed on grass beneath the floodwaters. Quite an impressive bit of evolution!

Eventually the tarmac came to an end and we found ourselves on a dirt track. We had reached the beginning of the Transpantaneira Highway.

The famous 147-kilometre (91-mile) dirt road cuts through the heart of the Pantanal wetlands, connecting Poconé with Porto Jofre. Along the route are around 120 bridges, roughly one every kilometre. Some we barely noticed, while others were very much in evidence as we tentatively crossed them. They are traditionally constructed from wood and are strictly single lane, with some appearing to be in considerably better condition than others. The local government has been steadily replacing them with concrete bridges.

The road was built in the 1970s by Brazil’s military government and was originally intended to cross the entire northern and southern Pantanal. However, during construction the state of Mato Grosso was divided, with the southern region becoming Mato Grosso do Sul. The southern section of the planned road was eventually abandoned, leaving the road to terminate abruptly at the Cuiabá River in Porto Jofre. It effectively became a ‘Road to Nowhere’.

Today, though, it is famous for something rather more positive: wildlife watching. Because the road is raised above the surrounding wetlands, the earth excavated during its construction left long, continuous trenches of water running alongside it. These have become an important source of water for wildlife, particularly during the dry season, making the road an incredibly productive place for spotting animals.

Ali talked to us about the Pantanal as we travelled along. It is the world’s largest tropical wetland, stretching across Brazil and into Bolivia and Paraguay. The landscape was formed millions of years ago when a vast basin developed between the rising Andes and the surrounding land. Much of the water draining into this enormous basin has only one major escape route: the narrow Paraguay River.

Because the exit is relatively restricted, water backs up dramatically during the rainy season. Rivers burst their banks and huge areas of the landscape can disappear beneath the floodwaters. At its peak, around 80% of the Pantanal can be submerged. The name ‘Pantanal’ itself comes from the Portuguese word for swamp.

Eventually, we arrived at Pousada Piuval, the first lodge along the Transpantaneira Highway. It was huge, with both a working cattle ranch and horses, but more importantly for us, it was absolutely brilliant for wildlife.

As we approached the entrance, the fields on either side were covered in termite mounds. They reminded us of an old cemetery, with row upon row of weathered tombstones scattered across the landscape. The mounds are made from a mixture of soil and termite saliva and are incredibly hard — certainly not something you could just kick over!

There were only 21 rooms at the lodge, and its setting made it a real haven for wildlife, which made it a great place to start our adventure.

Walking around the grounds, we quickly spotted our first capybaras. A small stream close to the lodge was being used by these enormous rodents, some grazing on the banks while others simply lay in the water. They look like guinea pigs on steroids and, unsurprisingly, they are related.

There were birds everywhere too, including a Red-legged Seriema striding around on its incredibly long legs. It is an impressive-looking bird and a formidable predator, known for hunting snakes.

Everywhere we went we could hear the noisy Monk Parakeets squawking and chattering. They are striking green birds with grey breasts and are considered a nuisance in some areas because of the damage they can cause to crops. Personally, I loved their constant chatter and antics.

Ali took us out on our first afternoon game drive. Our first stop was a known Hyacinth Macaw nest. Unfortunately, there was no sign of the birds when we arrived. When we returned later, one had finally put in an appearance, but by then it was getting quite dark, making photography difficult.

The Hyacinth Macaw is the largest parrot in the world, growing to around 40 inches long. Its deep cobalt-blue plumage, bright yellow skin around the eyes and huge black beak make it unmistakable. That enormous beak is powerful enough to crack open some seriously hard nuts.

The species came close to extinction in the Pantanal, largely because of the illegal pet trade and habitat loss, as well as the devastating wildfires of recent years. The Pantanal remains an important stronghold for the species, and conservation efforts have included replanting Manduvi trees, which the macaws rely on for nesting. The wood is relatively soft, allowing them to excavate the hollows they need.

Ali then took us to an area where a pair of Burrowing Owls had a nest. These pint-sized owls live underground, often taking over abandoned armadillo burrows. We could see one popping its head above ground before it flew into a nearby tree, staring down at us with enormous yellow eyes.

We then headed to a small waterhole where several caimans were lying motionless around the edge. There are estimated to be around 10 million Yacare caimans in the Pantanal, making it the largest concentration of crocodilians in the world.

They had once been heavily persecuted for their skins, but their numbers have since recovered dramatically. Despite their rather prehistoric appearance, you can get surprisingly close to them. Many were lying with their mouths wide open, a way of regulating their body temperature. They hardly looked real, with only the occasional blink giving away the fact that they were actually alive.

As we travelled on, a dark figure suddenly crossed the track in front of us. It was some distance away and took a few moments to work out what we were looking at. It was a Tayra, a member of the weasel family and a relative of otters. Its long body and head did indeed give it a slightly otter-like appearance.

Tayras are elusive animals, so it was a real privilege to see one. It stopped for a few seconds and eyed us warily before disappearing into the undergrowth.

Another interesting sighting was a Potoo, one of those wonderfully bizarre-looking birds that seem almost designed to disappear. Its mottled feathers matched the colours and texture of the tree stump it was perched on so perfectly that it was only our driver’s incredibly sharp eyes that spotted it. Potoos are nocturnal, so it was fast asleep and completely motionless.

We also spotted a couple of six-banded Armadillos. Ali told us about their rather extraordinary reproductive habit: they almost always give birth to identical quadruplets, with a single fertilised egg splitting into four. Nature certainly has some strange ways of doing things!

As we made our way back to the lodge, we came across the cowboys herding the cattle, including a number of young calves. Some had only just been born and still had evidence of their umbilical cords.

The calves need to be moved into an electric-fenced enclosure as they are particularly vulnerable to predators. Jaguars and pumas will take them, and even Black Vultures can kill very young calves. It was a reminder that, despite the cattle ranching, this is very much wild country.

We spotted the secretive Red Brocket Deer and several Crab-eating Foxes. Despite their name, Crab-eating Foxes aren’t actually closely related to true foxes. They are members of the canid family and get their name from their habit of eating crabs, particularly when the Pantanal is flooded.

In the distance we also spotted a couple of Tapirs. Amazingly, these strange-looking animals are related to both rhinos and horses and are the largest and heaviest land mammals in South America.

They are sometimes described as the ‘gardeners of the forest’ because of their important role in spreading seeds. They eat huge quantities of fruit and travel considerable distances across the wetlands and forests. Large seeds pass through their digestive systems intact and are deposited far from the parent plant, helping regenerate the forest.

It was difficult to make them out properly in the darkness, but luckily this wouldn’t be our last encounter with tapirs. We would have much better sightings later in the trip.

Saturday 19 September

It was an early start before breakfast to take another game drive.

I was hoping we would be lucky enough to see a Giant Anteater and, sure enough, in the distance an unmistakable brown shape slowly shuffled its way across the field in front of us.

They are one of the strangest-looking animals, with a two-foot-long tongue that stretches out beyond their long, pencil-like snout. To avoid the stings of the angry insects they eat, they are able to hoover up their prey at an incredible rate, licking up insects at around 160 times a minute. They have no teeth; instead, their stomachs are lined with tough, hardened folds, and they use swallowed sand and tiny pebbles to crush and grind up the insects they eat. Their tongues are coated with a sticky, glue-like saliva that helps them quickly pick up their prey.

Despite their rather leisurely, shuffling gait, they are no easy prey for jaguars. Their front claws can grow to four inches long, allowing them to rip open termite mounds. Because their claws are so long, they have to walk on their knuckles. If attacked by a jaguar, they can rear up on their hind legs and lash out with their razor-sharp claws. They have even been known to fatally wound jaguars while defending themselves.

Further down the track we spotted two more anteaters. One had a baby on her back, but unfortunately she was too far away for us to see properly. The other was much nearer. In fact, it crossed the track right in front of our vehicle, giving us an incredible close encounter. Ali explained that by seven in the morning they would have all but disappeared from here, preferring to spend the heat of the day in the wooded areas.

We were taken to see a Southern Great Horned Owl roosting in a tree. They are the largest owl species in South America. This one was awake and facing towards us, which made a nice change, and it offered some great photographic opportunities.

Nearby, we spotted a pair of Howler Monkeys sitting in a tree. Throughout our trip we had been hearing their unmistakable calls, which sound remarkably like the roar of a jet engine. In fact, the howler monkey has one of the loudest calls of any land animal. These two were keeping quiet, simply munching away on the leaves of the tree.

They show extreme sexual dimorphism, with males and females looking very different. The young are born with golden-cream fur, which blends perfectly with the fur colour of their mothers. As they mature, the females keep this golden coat, while the males gradually turn jet black.

We also spotted a Pygmy Owl, a miniature raptor no bigger than a large sparrow. Despite its tiny size, it is a fierce and confident hunter, sometimes taking on birds up to twice its own size. They have a clever adaptation: a pair of black, white-rimmed spots on the back of their heads that act as false eyes. These can trick potential predators into thinking the owl is staring directly at them, taking away the element of surprise and helping to deter an attack.

There was a huge Jabiru nest on top of a tree with two chicks that were as big as the adults. These huge birds can stand up to 5 feet tall and have a wingspan of 9 foot. Their nest of sticks also makes a nice nesting site for the Monk Parakeets who build their own homes directly inside. Up to 90% of Jabiru nests are shared with these parakeets who set up their colonies in what is colloquially called the “basement”. Building their nests here also offers protection as the Jabiru storks are fierce defenders from both aerial and climbing predators.

We also spotted two different lizards on the safari. One was a big Black-and-White Tegu the largest lizard species in the Americas. The second was the Caiman Lizard named because it looks a bit like a caiman with its crocodilian tail.

Before lunch we learnt about the work of Instituto IMPACTO, a Brazilian organisation based at Pousada Puival Lodge, dedicated to protecting jaguars and helping people and wildlife live alongside each other in the Pantanal. One of the things I found particularly fascinating was their use of special hair-collecting mats, positioned where jaguars pass, which pick up a few hairs as the animals walk over them. The hair can then be analysed to identify individual jaguars and learn more about their movements and genetics. They also work closely with local farmers, helping them understand jaguars and find ways to reduce conflict with livestock. Education is a big part of their work, because encouraging people to value and protect these magnificent animals is so important for their future.

Jaguars can often get the blame when cattle go missing or are found dead, but the reality is not always so straightforward. Cattle in the Pantanal can die from a number of causes, including disease, snakes, drowning and other predators, yet jaguars may be blamed simply because they are an obvious and much-feared suspect. This can lead to unnecessary persecution of jaguars. Part of the conservation work is therefore about understanding what is actually happening and helping farmers distinguish genuine jaguar predation from other causes of livestock losses.

We were also shown some skulls that demonstrated the distinctive way a jaguar kills. Unlike many big cats, jaguars have exceptionally powerful jaws and can deliver a crushing bite directly through the skull, often piercing the skull or breaking the bones around the back of the head. Seeing the damage for ourselves was a striking reminder of just how powerful these relatively compact big cats are.

In the afternoon we were out on another safari drive. As we drove along, we came across a dried-up pool with just a small amount of water remaining in the bottom. Around the muddy edges, about 10 coatimundis were busy digging and poking around, clearly hoping to uncover something edible. We guessed there might be crabs or other small creatures hiding beneath the mud.

The coatimundis were beautiful animals, their russet-brown fur contrasting with their long, distinctive ringed tails. They were completely absorbed in their search for food, occasionally stopping to sniff around before getting back to digging. Seeing so many together was a real privilege.

Ali explained that these were all females, which live together in highly organised and cooperative social groups known as bands. The males, in contrast, are strictly solitary, only joining the females for a short time to mate.

We then came across one of my favourite birds, the Crested Oropendola. They are famous for their amazing long, woven, hanging basket nests, which they build in colonies, usually attached to the outer branches of tall, isolated trees.

This individual was busy doing exactly that, flying around with clumps of nesting material held in its beak. They are striking birds, with bright blue eyes and a vivid yellow tail, but it is their calls that really make them special. The male produces an extraordinary, loud, liquid gurgle that seems to accelerate as it goes, rather like water being poured from a bottle, before finishing with a bizarre mixture of electric crashes, pops and rustling sounds. It is one of those bird calls that sounds almost impossible to believe until you hear it for yourself.

We also came across a Red Brocket Deer, a shy and secretive little deer that is usually found alone rather than in groups. They spend much of their time hidden away in dense vegetation.

Nearby a Greater Rhea walked in front of our vehicle, it’s a large flightless bird that looks a little like a cross between an ostrich and an oversized chicken. Quietly wandering across the grassland, they use their long legs to cover the ground surprisingly quickly.

As the light began to fall Ali took us down to an amazing place where countless egrets were roosting in the trees. What seemed like hundreds of caimans lazed around at the waters edge their mouths agape. Wood Storks were busy feeding in the shallows, sweeping their long bills through the water with remarkable speed snapping at anything that brushed against their bills. It was a great end to the evening with the sounds of the birds in the trees.

As we travelled back to the lodge storm clouds rolled in and distant sheet lightning illuminated the sky in flashes of pinky-orange, catching the final fading colours of the setting sun.

Sunday 20 September

The Jaguars!

The next part of our tour was all about the jaguars.

Henrique picked us up from the lodge in a minibus, where the other four members of our tour were already waiting. We had a long journey ahead of us, travelling down the rest of the Transpantaneira Highway.

The road stretched ahead, cutting a straight orange-sandy track through the heart of the Pantanal. We stopped for the obligatory photo at the iconic entrance gate — a grand wooden portal marking the entrance to the ‘Land of the Jaguars’.

It was quite a bumpy ride as we navigated the many wooden bridges, but we’ve certainly had worse. As we got closer to Porto Jofre, the landscape gradually changed, becoming much more wetland. The area was alive with birds — egrets, Wood Storks and Jabiru Storks were everywhere. Every now and then a Roseate Spoonbill would stand out from the rest, its startling pink feathers making it impossible to miss.

It was then just a short 20-minute boat ride to our flotel.

We hadn’t been on the river for more than a few minutes when Henrique suddenly shouted, “Jaguarundi!”

For a few seconds I wasn’t even sure what I was looking at. Then I spotted a small, dark figure swimming quickly across the river.

Looking more closely, I realised it was a small cat.

A Jaguarundi.

This was an incredibly rare sighting. Jaguarundis are secretive and solitary and spend much of their time hidden away in dense, low-lying vegetation. Even experienced Pantanal guides can go their entire careers without seeing one.

They are strange-looking cats, with very short legs and an unusually long, low-slung body. Even in the water it looked incredibly elongated — at first glance, you could almost mistake it for an otter.

Although they are active during the day, they live at very low densities in the Pantanal and spend much of their time hidden in thick scrub, which makes seeing one particularly special.

Luckily, it had only just started crossing the river, so we had a surprisingly long view. As it reached the far bank, it struggled for a moment to climb up the muddy edge. Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared into the vegetation.

We couldn’t really believe our luck.

We were literally only minutes into the tour.

Still buzzing from the sighting, we reached the flotel and were shown to our rooms. We had just enough time to settle in before lunch, and then it was straight back out onto the river.

The flotel was anchored just minutes from the Meeting of the Waters State Park, a sprawling 108,000-hectare protected area where the Cuiabá and São Lourenço rivers come together, creating an incredible maze of waterways.

Less than 5% of the Pantanal is formally protected, with much of the rest privately owned and divided into enormous cattle ranches. Of course, wildlife doesn’t recognise property boundaries, so the future of the Pantanal depends heavily on landowners practising sustainable cattle farming and embracing ecotourism.

Our boat was comfortable and fast, and perfectly suited to navigating the narrow waterways. Our driver, Cezar, turned out to be fantastic, somehow managing to position the boat in exactly the right place whenever something appeared.

And it wasn’t long before we saw our first jaguar.

Our first sighting was Medrosa, probably one of the most famous female jaguars in the area. Her name means ‘fearful’ or ‘timid’, a reference to when she was first spotted as a shy cub.

When a new jaguar or cub is first identified, the person who discovers it often gets the honour of naming it.

Medrosa is particularly well known for climbing trees. She can sit motionless for hours, waiting patiently for an unsuspecting caiman to come within reach.

We hadn’t been watching her for long when suddenly she launched herself into the air, attempting to pounce on a hidden caiman.

She missed.

But watching this huge, powerful animal suddenly launch itself off the ground and fly through the air was incredible.

Medrosa currently has two cubs, Selva and Kyara, and we were lucky enough to see them too, but not too clearly. They were just over a year old and already not much smaller than their mother. They are still dependent on Medrosa, though, and it will probably be another year before they leave her and establish territories of their own.

Seeing a jaguar for the first time, I was struck by just how powerful they look compared with a leopard. They are much stockier and more muscular, with huge heads and incredibly powerful bodies. An adult male jaguar in the Pantanal can weigh around 100–150 kg, compared with roughly 30–80 kg for a typical leopard.

There really is a big difference.

Our next sighting was Ti, another adult female who shares part of the same river territory as Medrosa. Ti is another recognisable female associated with dramatic caiman hunts. Photographs of her hunting were featured in international news coverage of the Pantanal’s jaguars and their resilience following the wildfires.

Henrique was remarkably quick at identifying individual jaguars. Each has a unique pattern of spots, almost like a fingerprint. The markings around the eyes, nose and forehead can also help distinguish one individual from another.

Next came Guaraci, a fully grown female and Ti’s daughter. She occupies a territory that overlaps with her mother’s.

Our final sightings of the day were two young males, Pantaneiro and Makala.

These two are particularly unusual because they have formed a coalition — something that is highly unusual for jaguars, which are generally solitary animals.

They are related, with Makala being Pantaneiro’s uncle, despite the pair being born only months apart.

We found them playing together on one of the sandy beaches beside the river. Pantaneiro was easy to recognise because he has a distinctive missing piece from his right ear.

By the time we headed back to the flotel, it was difficult to take in everything we’d seen in just one afternoon.

A rare Jaguarundi within minutes of starting the trip, followed by five different jaguars — including a mother and her two cubs and an unusual pair of young males.

I’d hoped for good jaguar sightings in the Pantanal, but I never imagined they would be quite this good.

After a very tasty dinner, it was an early night. The morning boat safari was due to start at 5.15am.

And judging by our first afternoon, we were going to need the sleep.

Monday 21 September

It was another ridiculously early start. Breakfast at 5am and on the boat by 5.15am. There was just enough time to gulp down some orange juice, eat a bit of fruit and get a much-needed cup of coffee inside me before we headed out.

Safety protocol meant that we always had to put on a life jacket when leaving and re-entering the flotel. Stepping onto the boat still fills me with a slight sense of dread. I’m not particularly keen on stepping onto something that moves beneath my feet, and inevitably, just as I’m about to make the leap, visions of me toppling into the water — camera and all — flash through my mind. Thankfully, I managed another day without embarrassing myself or sacrificing the camera to the Pantanal. Once safely settled into my seat, we headed off.

Today we were incredibly lucky to get some amazing photos of Medrosa and her two cubs, Kiaro and Selva. Seeing all three jaguars together was always going to attract attention, and before long several boats were beginning to gather around them.

As usual, Henrique and Cezar somehow managed to get us into exactly the right position. We ended up almost perfectly in front of the jaguars just as the scene came together.

The light was beautiful and there they were — all three of them lined up on a tree stump, looking out over the crowd of boats and cameras gathered below. It was one of those moments when you hardly dare move in case you somehow disturb the scene.

It still seems strange to see jaguars so completely unfazed by all the boats around them. But I suppose for these youngsters, boats and people with enormous camera lenses are simply part of their everyday world. They have grown up with them and, for the most part, seem perfectly happy to carry on behaving exactly as jaguars should, completely ignoring their rather enthusiastic audience.

Of course, it isn’t all about jaguars here. The Pantanal is packed with other wildlife, and when you’re waiting for a jaguar to appear, there’s always something else worth watching.

Kingfishers are a regular sight, particularly the Ringed Kingfisher. It’s the largest of the kingfishers found in the Americas and we saw plenty of them perched on branches overhanging the river, patiently watching for an opportunity to dive for a fish. Occasionally another would fly into a nearby tree and that was usually the cue for a very noisy and aggressive argument. The resident bird would chase the intruder away, accompanied by a great deal of squawking.

Black-collared Hawks were another common sight. They are beautiful birds of prey and we often saw them perched in the trees above the river. Their appearance is far more impressive than their call, though. They have a rather annoying whistle which is incredibly tuneless and reminded me of someone attempting to play a recorder very badly.

There was a family of them near Medrosa’s favourite lookout log and they seemed determined to keep up a constant commentary. Their calls went on and on, presumably completely unaware of how irritating they were becoming.

There was another regular bird of prey sitting quietly in a tree, a Common Black Hawk.

When you’re watching jaguars, it’s always worth keeping an eye on what else is happening around you. There always something happening. Lots of birds were flitting around the vegetation catching the insects attracted by the water.

As we went in search of other things along the river we came across a couple of Southern Screamers. They are huge odd looking birds like geese with long red legs. The reason for their name is its deafening call that can travel nearly 2 miles. These two are bonded for life as the species is monogamous. We often found them sounding an alarm when jaguars were around.

Flying in the sky was the unmistakable figure of an osprey. It wheeled around and around presumably searching for a fish meal. It was certainly favouring the area where a couple of small fishing boats were anchored. Ospreys are found on every continent bar Antarctica, we had even seen one at home outside our house a few weeks before.

Standing in the shallows were another monogamous pair, two Jabirus. As we passed reasonably close by in the boat, I got a real sense of just how enormous these birds are. They didn’t seem to be fishing, simply standing motionless in the shallows like two huge sentinels keeping watch over the river.

Earlier we had seen another large Jabiru nest this time with a small chick just visible.

Henrique showed us a tree trunk where there were a line of proboscis bats. They are well known for roosting right out in the open on vertical tree trunks and branches over water. They are very well camouflaged mimicking the tree bark perfectly. They are tiny, only a few centimetres long with prominent noses.

With the dry season in full swing, the receding waters were beginning to uncover small sandy beaches. On one of these, a capybara and her baby watched us nervously from the shore. They are perfectly built for keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings, with their eyes, ears and nostrils positioned high on their heads so they can stay alert even while swimming. And despite their rather rotund appearance, capybaras are surprisingly speedy, capable of reaching up to 22 mph when they need to make a quick getaway.

After the excitement of Medrosa and her cubs, the rest of the day was relatively quiet. The weather looked increasingly threatening and eventually a few drops of rain began to fall — just enough for us to dig out our rain jackets. And, as if to round off the day, we even spotted a rainbow stretching across the Pantanal.

Tuesday 22 September

We spotted Medrosa first, resting on a log and idly looking around. She seemed fairly sleepy, so rather than disturb her, we left her to enjoy her rest and went off in search of Marcela.

Marcela is Henrique’s favourite jaguar. In his words, “She always delivers.” As we got to know her throughout the trip, I began to understand exactly what he meant. She was always busy and rarely stayed still for long. Of all the jaguars we saw, Marcela was the one that gave us the most opportunities to witness natural behaviour.

Born in 2021, Marcela is the daughter of Medrosa and part of one of the best-known jaguar family lines in the Pantanal. Like her mother, she has those incredible amber eyes that seem to glow when she looks directly at you.

We spotted her at the river’s edge and, almost immediately, she was swimming. Unlike most big cats, jaguars genuinely love water. They are excellent swimmers and regularly take to the rivers, sometimes travelling between territories and, of course, hunting. The rivers provide plenty of opportunities, with caiman, capybaras and fish all on the menu.

Just as quickly as she had appeared, Marcela disappeared again into the thick vegetation.

As we floated along, we came across a Cocoi Heron with a surprisingly large fish in its beak. For some reason, it seemed completely unsure what to do with its catch and eventually abandoned it on the riverbank. Not exactly the successful fishing trip it had probably been hoping for!

Next, we caught sight of Ti, sitting quietly in a gap in the vegetation. She looked as though she had settled down for a peaceful spell beside the river, and there wasn’t much sign that she was going anywhere soon.

Then we caught up with Marcela again — and, true to form, she was on the move.

This time Henrique predicted that she would walk along a stretch of sandy beach and positioned our boat perfectly for the opportunity. He managed to get us into exactly the right spot, with Marcela walking directly towards us and, crucially, with no boats behind her to spoil the background.

It was one of those moments when everything came together. Marcela strolling along the riverbank, heading straight towards us, with the Pantanal behind her. Henrique had got it absolutely right — and the photographs were fantastic.

One of the iconic species of the Pantanal that I really wanted to see was the Toco Toucan. It is the largest of all the toucans, reaching up to around 25 inches in length, with roughly a third of that made up by its enormous bill.

You’d imagine that such a huge bill would be heavy and cumbersome, but surprisingly, it is incredibly light. We actually had the chance to examine one up close when we visited the Instituto IMPACTO at Pousada Piuval Lodge. The bill has a lightweight, honeycomb-like structure, made largely from keratin with internal supports giving it strength without adding too much weight.

And that impressive bill isn’t just for grabbing fruit. It also acts rather like a radiator. By controlling the flow of blood through the bill, a toucan can release excess heat and help keep itself cool in the hot South American climate.

For anyone of a certain age, though, the sight of a Toco Toucan inevitably brings back memories of the famous Guinness toucan, balancing a pint on its enormous beak. It was one of those iconic advertising images that seemed to be everywhere when I was growing up.

So it was with great excitement that we finally got a really good view of one in the wild. We spotted it perched high in a tree overhanging the river, initially partly hidden among the branches. Gradually, though, it worked its way lower down, eventually finding a perfect perch where it could be seen properly.

It seemed almost to pose for us, giving us the chance to get some lovely photographs — and, for me, finally ticking one of the Pantanal’s most iconic birds off the list.

As our morning safari wound down and thoughts turned toward lunch, we couldn’t resist making one final stop. We headed back to Medrosa’s territory, holding out hope that we might witness her legendary hunting style—the dramatic leap from her log to ambush a caiman. She teased us for a moment, perking up with sudden interest, but ultimately decided to keep us waiting.

That afternoon, Henrique took us to see a family of Giant River Otters. These are the largest members of the mustelid family, capable of growing up to six feet long. Each one has its own distinctive creamy throat patch, rather like a unique signature.

When we arrived, the family was busy playing in the water, although there was a decidedly rough-and-tumble quality to their games! Photographing them was an absolute nightmare. They would disappear beneath the surface without warning, leaving us pointing our cameras at empty water, only to pop their heads up for a fleeting moment before vanishing again. It was a case of being ready, keeping your finger poised on the shutter and hoping to catch them before they disappeared once more.

What I loved most was their noise. They barked, squeaked and screamed at one another, creating a wonderful racket as they played. For such elusive animals, they certainly weren’t shy about making themselves heard! Slightly worrying was the sight of one of the otters with a green bottle top in its mouth. A stark reminder that even here careless littering can have an effect on the wildlife.

Sadly, Henrique explained that their numbers were declining, with climate change disrupting the Pantanal’s seasonal flooding and the devastating wildfires that have swept through the region putting further pressure on their habitat. It was a sobering reminder that, despite the incredible wildlife we were seeing, this fragile ecosystem faces some very real challenges.

Close to the otters’ den, we spotted something else moving along the riverbank. A flash of yellow and black was slowly making its way up the steep bank. It was a Yellow Anaconda, a smaller relative of the enormous Green Anaconda. Its beautiful yellow body, patterned with bold black markings, made it a striking sight. We watched as it laboriously climbed the bank, and I was delighted to get a good look at one of these impressive snakes.

We continued along the river in search of more wildlife, and before long we came across our next jaguar. This was Bernard, a large male who is well known in the area and has been associated with several females over the years.

Bernard was lying down, looking decidedly sleepy and in no particular hurry to go anywhere. Looking more closely, I noticed a few small cuts on his body, probably the result of encounters with other jaguars. Life as a territorial male clearly isn’t always peaceful! We left him to his rest and continued downstream.

There were capybaras dotted along the riverbanks, although perhaps not as many as I had imagined there would be. Most of our sightings were of solitary animals or small groups rather than the huge gatherings I had pictured. Perhaps many were sheltering in the dense vegetation, escaping the heat of the afternoon sun.

One of our next sightings was a beautiful Capped Heron. Its turquoise-blue face and bill were wonderfully striking, set off by a distinctive black cap. Long, wispy feathers trailing from the back of its head gave it an almost delicate, rather unusual appearance. It was one of those birds that really catches your eye, even amongst the Pantanal’s extraordinary variety of birdlife.

As the afternoon drew to a close, the light began to change. The sky filled with soft oranges and yellows as the sun sank towards the horizon. This was when the bare trees along the river really came into their own. Their skeletal branches stood silhouetted against the colourful sky, creating an almost haunting landscape. Whether dead or simply leafless, these trees still played an important role in the ecosystem, providing perches and nesting sites for birds. Weathered by the elements, their pale branches took on an almost ghostly appearance in the fading light. It was a beautiful, atmospheric end to the day.

But we weren’t quite finished yet.

Before returning to the flotel, we had one final jaguar encounter. On a small sandy beach, just as the light was beginning to fade, we spotted Bagua, another male jaguar. He is known for being particularly shy and for generally avoiding the boats, so we felt especially fortunate to find him. We were the only boat there, making the encounter feel all the more special.

Despite his reputation for keeping his distance, Bagua seemed remarkably unconcerned by our presence. He lay on the sand, gazing lazily in our direction as though we were of little interest to him. Then, quite suddenly, he opened his mouth in an enormous yawn, revealing a cavernous pink mouth and an impressive set of teeth. It was a wonderful photographic moment, and a reminder of just how powerful these animals are, even when they appear completely relaxed.

As the last of the light faded over the river, we headed back to the flotel, having packed an extraordinary amount of wildlife into one afternoon. From noisy otters and a beautifully marked anaconda to three very different jaguars, the Pantanal had certainly delivered.

Wednesday 23 September

The day began incredibly cold, and I was very glad I’d brought my jacket with a hood. It was quite a contrast to our previous mornings, and the overcast skies added to the rather gloomy feel. Henrique warned us that the weather might affect our sightings, but as it turned out, we needn’t have worried!

Our first jaguar encounter was with perhaps the most famous jaguar in the entire Pantanal: Ousado. His story is truly remarkable.

During the devastating wildfires of September 2020, Ousado suffered severe burns to all four paws. He was rescued and underwent intensive veterinary treatment, as the damage was so extensive that his paws required skin grafts. In an innovative approach, the veterinary team used fish skin grafts to help his recovery.

Against all the odds, Ousado was returned to the wild after just 39 days. He was fitted with a radio-tracking collar so that his movements could be monitored. The collar has long since stopped working and, as it never fell off as intended, he still wears it today. This makes him instantly recognisable.

We watched him stride confidently along the riverbank, showing no outward signs of the terrible injuries he had suffered. It was extraordinary to see such a remarkable survivor looking so completely at home in his natural environment.

Ousado is also known for an unusual hunting technique, approaching caimans underwater. Whether this behaviour is connected to his previous injuries remains uncertain, but it certainly makes him an intriguing jaguar to observe.

There were plenty of Wattled Jacanas wandering across the lily pads, their extraordinary long toes spreading their weight so they could walk across the floating vegetation. I could see why they are nicknamed ‘Jesus Birds’, as they really do appear to walk on water! The family roles are rather unusual too, with the male taking care of the chicks and even incubating the eggs, while the larger female goes off in search of other mates. Jacanas also have a secret weapon: sharp spurs near their wrists, which they use to defend themselves against rivals. When they take flight, you get a lovely view of the distinctive yellow patch on their wings, standing out against the rich chestnut brown of the rest of their bodies.

We were also lucky enough to spot some howler monkeys in the trees. Although we had heard them calling along the river, this was the first time we had managed to get a really good look at them. There was a large black male accompanied by two golden-coloured females. They watched us rather suspiciously as we stopped the boat to photograph them, clearly keeping a close eye on these unexpected visitors!

There were plenty of colourful birds around too, including a beautiful Rufous-tailed Jacamar. The ever-present Tropical Kingbirds were also busy darting out from their favourite branch perches to catch insects on the wing. These pretty, yellow-bellied flycatchers were a familiar sight, and we saw them every day during our time here in the Pantanal.

Capybaras were a regular sight along the riverbank this morning, looking completely unbothered by the world around them. It’s hard not to smile at these oversized rodents, with their chunky bodies, blunt noses and surprisingly expressive faces. Their social lives are fascinating, with groups usually led by a dominant male, distinguished by the huge scent gland on his nose. They can never be too relaxed as of course they are a jaguar’s favourite snack.

Our next Jaguar encounter was with Saseka and her cub, Peter. We spotted them in a clearing, and as the cub turned to face us, I noticed that something seemed amiss. One of his eyes had a cloudy, blue appearance rather than the usual amber colour. It may be a congenital abnormality, but we understood that it should not necessarily prevent him from hunting or enjoying a normal life, which was reassuring.

What really captured our attention, though, was the tenderness between mother and cub. Their affectionate interactions were wonderful to watch, and there was something particularly touching about seeing such a close bond between them in the wild.

Despite the chilly start, we were treated to yet another jaguar sighting. This time it was a familiar face: Pantaneiro, easily recognised by the missing section of one ear. He was simply lazing on the riverbank, looking thoroughly relaxed. His mate, Makala, was nowhere to be seen, unlike a few days earlier when we had spotted the pair together.

Three jaguar encounters in one morning, including the remarkable Ousado and the tender moments between Saseka and Peter, made for an exceptionally rewarding outing. So much for worrying about the weather! The morning had turned out to be a wonderful reminder that, in the Pantanal, you never quite know what extraordinary wildlife encounters are waiting around the next bend in the river.

In the afternoon, Henrique took us to visit another Giant River Otter den. This time, we were lucky enough to witness the otters scent-marking the sand around their home. These fascinating animals are highly territorial, and marking the area around their den is an important way of communicating with other otters. Using scent glands, urine and faeces, they leave messages that help establish their territory and reinforce the bonds within their own family group. It was a wonderful opportunity to observe a little of their behaviour rather than simply watching them swimming or playing in the water.

There were some lovely birds flitting about in the surrounding vegetation, too, including our first sighting of the trip of a Chestnut-eared Aracari. What a character of a bird! It looked almost as though it had been created in a wooden toy workshop, with someone having a little fun with the colours and proportions. Its oversized bill and wonderfully patterned plumage gave it an almost cartoon-like appearance. It was one of those birds that made you do a double take just to convince yourself it was real!

There was plenty more to spot as we watched the vegetation come alive with movement. A Streaked Flycatcher darted about, while a Masked Crimson Tanager added a splash of colour. We also spotted a Red-crested Cardinal and a Pied Water Tyrant. None of them stayed still for long, of course, flitting between branches and leaves, making photography something of a challenge. But that was part of the fun: there was always another little flash of colour or a flicker of movement to catch your eye.

From there, we continued further upstream to Fazenda Piquiri, a beautiful spot on the banks of the Piquiri River where Hyacinth Macaws were regularly seen. The gardens were filled with trees, and the owners had thoughtfully put out some palm nuts in the hope of enticing the magnificent birds down onto a log perch near the house. Unfortunately, the macaws seemed perfectly content to remain up in the trees, giving us rather less cooperative photographic subjects than we had hoped!

There was plenty of other wildlife to keep us occupied, though. I spotted an Agouti, a South American rodent that looks rather like a much smaller, more delicate relative of the Capybara. This particular one was enjoying a nut, sitting upright on its hind legs and holding it between its front paws, rather like a squirrel. Agoutis have remarkably strong, sharp incisors that continually grow and sharpen themselves, allowing them to tackle some incredibly tough nuts and seeds. They are even capable of opening Brazil nuts, which have famously hard shells.

The birds were equally rewarding. We saw a beautiful Green Ibis, several Buff-necked Ibises and plenty of Chestnut-bellied Guans. It was one of those places where there always seemed to be something else to look at, and I could happily have stayed there for much longer.

But Henrique had other plans!

He suddenly called us together and announced that three jaguars had been seen nearby, with two of them mating. That was enough to get everyone moving rather quickly! We hurried back towards a small sandy beach where the cats had been spotted.

The three jaguars were Nuxa, Maxuni and Coatlicue. Sadly, we didn’t manage to get Coatlicue into view for photographs when we first got there, but the other two more than made up for it.

These two are rarely seen males and are brothers.

The light was absolutely beautiful. As the sun sank lower, the beach was bathed in that warm, golden glow that wildlife photographers dream about. We watched the jaguars moving along the sand, making the most of every precious moment.

One of the highlights was when Nuxa came down to the water’s edge to drink. It was a lovely, unhurried moment, and the sort of sighting you hope for when spending time with these extraordinary animals. We even had the incredible privilege of witnessing the jaguars mating.

It was difficult to tear ourselves away. The light gradually faded, and what had begun as an ordinary afternoon watching otters and birds had turned into another unforgettable jaguar encounter.

We were already a few hundred yards down the river when Henrique got the call that they were mating again. It was a quick turn and back we went to find them once more. It was Nuxa and Coatlicue. Mating was a quick, aggressive affair and then they were gone, lost in the thick vegetation.

By the time we finally headed back to the flotel, it was getting dark. Ordinarily, we would have needed to return much earlier, but the full moon provided just enough light for us to navigate our way back along the river. It was a magical end to the day, and one more reminder of just how unpredictable and extraordinary wildlife watching in the Pantanal can be.

Thursday 24 September

We were beginning to get used to the early starts, and there was something rather special about being out on the river before the crowds arrived. It was another cool morning, although thankfully not quite as cold as the previous day.

Our first sighting was of the famous Patricia. Patricia is something of a legend in the Northern Pantanal. She is one of the area’s best-known female jaguars and has been studied for more than a decade. She is also the mother of Medrosa, and grandmother of Marcela. It was fascinating to think that these individual animals have their own family histories and that, with the help of Henrique, we were beginning to recognise them as individuals rather than simply beautiful jaguars. Patricia is also a formidable hunter, with caiman among her natural prey.

We also had another very quick sighting, this time it was Makala a 2 year old cub of Patricia’s and brother of Medrosa. .

Ahead of our boat, a caiman was lying motionless in the water. Suddenly, Henrique announced that it was about to display. Cameras were immediately raised as we waited to see what would happen. The caiman began producing a deep, low-frequency roar, followed by an extraordinary commotion of bubbles erupting around its body.

Much of this powerful roar is below the range of human hearing, but the physical force required to produce it is immense. The vibrations travel through the caiman’s torso, shaking the surrounding water until it bubbles and froths. It was a fascinating spectacle and something I had never witnessed before. Just another reminder that there is so much more to these prehistoric-looking creatures than meets the eye!

As we continued along the river, the scenery was equally magical. Wisps of mist rose from the water, tinted golden by the early morning sunlight. The effect was caused by the contrast between the relatively warm river water and the cooler air above it, creating a wonderfully atmospheric scene.

We spotted another caiman tucked away in the rushes, where it had caught a large fish and was quietly enjoying its breakfast. It seemed to have found the perfect spot to eat undisturbed.

Our first new jaguar of the morning was Matimba, a young male born the previous year. He was patrolling along the river’s edge, giving us another opportunity to admire these magnificent cats in their natural surroundings.

Not long afterwards, we encountered Ousado, instantly recognisable by the collar around his neck. It was wonderful to see him looking so well, especially knowing what he had been through following his dreadful injuries in the devastating wildfires six years earlier. Seeing him thriving again was a powerful reminder of just how resilient these animals can be.

Nearby, a flock of Black Vultures had gathered to make the most of the morning sunshine. They stood with their wings spread wide, soaking up the warmth to help raise their body temperature. It looked rather like a group of sunbathers enjoying a spot of morning sunshine!

We came across Medrosa with one of her cubs. The youngster seemed keen to play, but Medrosa was having none of it, giving her playful offspring rather short shrift.

Jaguar cubs usually stay with their mother until they are around 18 to 24 months old. During this time, she teaches them the skills they will need to survive, from stalking prey to hunting caiman and capybaras. As they grow older, they become more independent before eventually leaving to find territories of their own. It is a relatively short period in a jaguar’s life, but the lessons learned from their mother are vital to their survival in the wild.

As the sun climbed higher and the day began to warm up, we saw increasing numbers of caiman basking in the sunshine. Although they look rather similar to crocodiles and alligators, caimans belong to a distinct group within the alligator family. The species dominating the Pantanal is the Yacare Caiman, sometimes nicknamed the ‘Piranha Caiman’ because piranhas feature among its varied diet. With so many of them scattered along the riverbanks, it was easy to see why they are such a familiar sight here.

We had noticed quite a few fisherman near to the flotel. Fish were obviously plentiful as we also saw the familiar sight of an osprey surveying the area. Today however, they had a huge catch. A massive yellow cat fish almost as big as the man that caught it.

A little further along, we came across a small family group of Capybaras. Every one of them seemed to be keeping a watchful eye on the river, presumably alert to the possibility of a jaguar appearing. Despite their apparent vigilance, they seemed completely unfazed by our boat passing nearby. Perhaps they had decided we posed no threat, or maybe they were simply accustomed to the regular parade of boats searching for wildlife.

Our next discovery was another new jaguar for us: a young male called Jasy. He was resting beneath a dead tree, looking wonderfully relaxed. His coat had the most beautiful markings, and I couldn’t resist taking plenty of photographs. Every jaguar has its own distinctive pattern of spots and rosettes, making each individual recognisable, and it is always exciting to encounter a cat you haven’t seen before.

Nearby was Ibaca, the mother of the Jasy. We watched as she and Jasy interacted on the sandy riverbank. It was a lovely moment to witness, and another reminder that there is so much more to a jaguar encounter than simply getting a photograph. Watching these animals behaving naturally, and catching glimpses of their relationships and individual personalities, is what makes time spent on the Pantanal’s rivers so special.

It had been another great day with so many new encounters.

In the evening after dinner we had a talk by someone from the Jaguar Identification Project. In the Brazilian Pantanal it helps researchers and conservationists to recognise individual jaguars by their unique coat patterns. Just like human fingerprints, every jaguar has a distinctive arrangement of spots and rosettes, allowing them to be identified from photographs taken by guides, researchers and visitors. By recording sightings, the project can build up a picture of individual jaguars, including where they roam, how their behaviour changes and how they interact with other jaguars. This information is valuable for understanding and protecting the Pantanal’s jaguar population. It also means that when you photograph a jaguar on the river, your images could potentially help researchers identify and monitor that individual.

One of the most interesting slides was the family tree of a jaguar called Kyra. She was known as the ‘Matriach of Jaguar Tourism’. She has left a remarkable legacy with her descendants spanning several generations. Marcela and Medrosa are her descendants.

Friday 25 September

Another early start, with us out on the water by 5.15am. The first light was already spreading across the sky as we set off for another morning of wildlife watching. The Pantanal is an incredible maze of rivers, waterways and narrow channels, and staying aboard the Aguapé Flotel meant we were right in the heart of it all. During our time in the area, we travelled along the Cuiabá, Three Brothers, Rio Negro and Piquiri Rivers, as well as countless smaller channels. Perhaps the most famous of these is the Corixo Negro, renowned for its jaguar sightings and home to Medrosa’s territory.

Our first jaguar of the morning was Ti. We spotted her peering out from the vegetation, her head just visible as she surveyed the river. She seemed perfectly happy to pose for us, giving us some lovely portrait opportunities before we continued on our way.

We hadn’t travelled far when Henrique spotted a snake swimming across the river. It was pale in colour, with small, dark, beady eyes. Andy was busy filming it when, without warning, the snake decided to investigate our boat and began trying to slither up the side! Andy was understandably horrified, and I don’t think any of us were particularly keen on the idea of sharing our boat with a snake. Fortunately, it failed to climb aboard, and we were reassured that it wasn’t venomous. It certainly gave us a little excitement, though!

Our next encounter was a particularly emotional one, as we came across Marcela with only one of her cubs, either Suli or Scout. The other cub had become separated when the young jaguar was stranded on the other side of the river. Marcela appeared tense as she paced along the bank and watched for any sign of her cub. Fortunately, they were later reunited, bringing a reassuring end to the anxious separation. It was a reminder that, even in the wonderful world of the Pantanal, life for a jaguar mother with two growing cubs doesn’t always run smoothly.

It was a beautiful morning, with the river surface almost as smooth as glass. On a small sand spit, a Jabiru Stork stood with its enormous wings outstretched, soaking up the warmth of the morning sunshine. It was a magnificent sight. With a wingspan approaching three metres, the Jabiru is an impressive bird at the best of times, but seeing it spread its wings like this made it look even more spectacular.

Nearby, a small family of capybaras was gathered on a sandy beach. They seemed to have organised themselves into a little lookout team, each facing a different direction as though keeping watch for potential danger. Given that jaguars are never far from our thoughts in this part of the Pantanal, perhaps they had good reason to be vigilant! It was lovely to see them together as a family, and even after several sightings, I still found these supersized guinea pigs utterly endearing.

As always, there was plenty of birdlife to keep us occupied between the jaguar sightings. Two Cocoi Herons were engaged in what looked like a particularly heated aerial argument, squawking loudly as they battled with one another. In a nearby dead tree, a small group of Neotropic Cormorants perched quietly. Their entirely black plumage contrasted with the distinctive orange skin around their faces. We also spotted a Fork-tailed Flycatcher high in a tree with its extraordinary tail streamers.

Just when we thought the morning couldn’t offer much more, we spotted another jaguar striding through the shallows. This time it was Saseka, a beautiful female and another new individual for us. Her name, which comes from Shangaan, a language spoken in southern Africa, means beautiful — a rather fitting name for such an elegant animal. She is also the sister of Ibaca, whom we had seen the previous day.

Watching Saseka moving confidently through the water was a wonderful way to round off the morning. Once again, the Pantanal had delivered a succession of memorable encounters, from a snake with rather unwelcome ambitions to some of its most iconic wildlife. And with so much activity before most people had even started their day, it was easy to understand why those early starts were so worthwhile.

In the afternoon, we made our way back to the Corixo Negro, where Medrosa had established her territory. We found her settled comfortably on her favourite log, looking very much at home.

We were hoping that, with a bit of luck, we might witness her hunting a caiman. This stretch of water seemed to offer a better chance of seeing the action unfold. All too often, a jaguar hunt ends in dense vegetation, leaving you struggling to see anything at all. Here, with a clearer view of the water, we dared to hope we might be in for something special.

Medrosa certainly seemed interested in what was happening around her. Every so often, she would lift her head and look intently towards the water, and we would ready our cameras, wondering whether this might be the moment she sprang into action. But each time our hopes were raised, she would settle back down and resume her dozing.

Henrique wondered whether the full moon might have played a part in the lack of activity. Perhaps the jaguars had been doing more of their hunting at night, when the darkness offered them greater cover and the element of surprise. It was a plausible theory, although Medrosa, for the time being, seemed perfectly content to conserve her energy rather than put on a show for us.

We continued to watch, never quite giving up hope that she might decide it was time to hunt. In the Pantanal, patience is very much part of the experience — and you never know when a seemingly quiet afternoon might suddenly turn into something unforgettable as we had already found out on previous days.

Saturday 26 September

It was our last morning on the river, and as I reflected on the six days we had spent in the Pantanal, it was hard to believe just how much we had seen. This extraordinary wilderness had delivered far more than we could ever have hoped for, from unforgettable encounters with some of its most famous jaguars to the many birds and other animals that share this remarkable landscape.

There was still time for a few more sightings, though, before we said goodbye.

Our first stop was to catch up with Medrosa, once again resting on her favourite log. This morning, she was bathed in sunshine, which really brought out the beautiful amber colour of her eyes. She looked completely relaxed, with little indication that she had any intention of hunting.

The familiar pair of Black-collared Hawks were also in residence, perched in one of the nearby dead trees. A Green Kingfisher had chosen a rather more strategic position, sitting on a branch that overhung the water. It looked to be in the perfect spot to watch for any unsuspecting fish passing beneath it.

With Medrosa showing no signs of abandoning her lazy morning, Henrique decided we should try our luck with Marcela instead.

We soon found her striding through the shallows before slipping into the river and swimming along with just her head and the top of her back visible above the water. It was fascinating to watch how completely at home she was in this environment. She made swimming look effortless, moving through the water with barely a ripple.

Once back on dry land, Marcela clambered up a nearby tree and settled herself along one of its branches. It was another lovely opportunity to watch this beautiful jaguar behaving so naturally in her surroundings.

Our next encounter was with a jaguar we had seen earlier in the week: Pantaneiro. This time, he was without his mate, Makala. He was easy to recognise, not least because of the distinctive missing section of one ear.

Pantaneiro appeared to be in hunting mode, and we watched expectantly as he surveyed the water’s edge. Suddenly, he launched himself forward into a patch of Water Hyacinth. For a moment, there was a flurry of movement, but it quickly became apparent that his intended prey had escaped. His dramatic leap had achieved nothing more than getting him thoroughly wet!

With a vigorous shake of his enormous head, he sent water flying in all directions. It was an amusing reminder that even these magnificent predators don’t always get it right. For all their power and skill, hunting in the wild is never a guaranteed success.

We weren’t finished with Marcela, either. Before long, we caught up with her again, and she was every bit as energetic as before. She leapt across the riverside vegetation, then returned to the water for another swim.

She seemed to be constantly on the move, exploring her surroundings with seemingly boundless energy. Then, almost as quickly as she had appeared, she vanished into the thick vegetation lining the riverbank.

Henrique took us further upstream, where we encountered something rather different. Standing in the shallows was a Water Buffalo.

Although these large animals look perfectly suited to the Pantanal’s flooded grasslands, they are not native to South America. Originally from Asia, Water Buffalo were introduced to Brazil for farming because they thrive in warm, wet conditions. Unlike the jaguars, capybaras and Giant River Otters that belong naturally to this ecosystem, they are part of the region’s livestock history. Their presence is a reminder that not everything we encounter in this seemingly untouched wilderness is actually part of its original wildlife community.

Further along the river, we came across an animal that most definitely belongs here: the Giant River Otter. Several were swimming in the river, providing another opportunity to watch one of the Pantanal’s most charismatic residents in its natural habitat.

We also had a good sighting of a Marsh Deer, an elegant animal particularly well adapted to life in this watery landscape. It is the largest deer species in South America, and its reddish-brown coat, long dark legs and large ears make it quite distinctive.

Its long legs and specially adapted hooves help it move across soft, muddy ground, while its diet consists largely of grasses and aquatic plants. The males grow impressive, branched antlers.

Sadly, despite being so well suited to its environment, the Marsh Deer is classified as Vulnerable. Habitat loss and other human pressures continue to threaten populations in parts of its range, making sightings of this beautiful animal all the more special.

A little later, we were startled by a sudden splashing sound. A Tapir, apparently disturbed by the approach of our boat, was scrambling out of the river. Its attempt to clamber up the bank was decidedly ungainly, with none of the effortless grace we had witnessed from Marcela in the water!

It was lovely to see a Tapir in daylight. Our previous sightings had all been in the dark, when we had caught only brief glimpses of these shy animals. This time, we had a much better opportunity to appreciate its distinctive shape as it made its way out of the water and disappeared from view.

And then, almost before we knew it, our time on the river was over.

It was time to return to the flotel, and I felt genuinely sad knowing that we would soon be saying goodbye to the jaguars who had become such familiar characters over the previous six days.

Each had their own personality, appearance and story. Through our encounters, we had been given a fascinating snapshot of their lives in the Pantanal: resting on favourite logs, swimming between riverbanks, hunting caimans and interacting with their cubs. We had seen moments of tenderness, bursts of energy and the occasional unsuccessful hunt. These were wild animals simply getting on with their lives, and being allowed a glimpse into their world had been an enormous privilege.

Our final tally was an astonishing 25 different jaguars. On top of that, there had been countless repeat sightings of individuals we had already encountered. We had been fortunate enough to see some of the Pantanal’s most iconic jaguars, as well as a few of its less frequently encountered individuals.

It was an almost overwhelming number of sightings, and far more than I had dared to hope for before the trip. Yet the experience had never been just about counting jaguars. The birds, Giant River Otters, Marsh Deer, Tapirs and so many other animals had all contributed to the richness of our time here.

The Pantanal had lived up to every expectation and then some. I would leave with thousands of photographs, wonderful memories and a much greater appreciation of this extraordinary ecosystem.

But our holiday wasn’t quite over yet.

We boarded the boat for the journey back to Porto Jofre, where we transferred to a vehicle for the drive back along the Transpantaneira Highway. This time, however, we weren’t heading all the way back to where our adventure had begun. We had a few more days in the Pantanal, staying at a lodge off the highway, where we hoped to discover another side of this remarkable region.

Our next destination was Aymara Lodge, which has an interesting story rooted in a genuine love of wildlife and birdwatching.

Its co-founder, Giuliano Bernardon, had spent years guiding birdwatchers and wildlife photographers around Brazil, developing a particular affection for the Pantanal. When he discovered that a lodge he had loved visiting had closed and been abandoned, he and his wife, Lisa Canavarros, saw an opportunity to bring it back to life.

They took over the property in 2019 and created Aymara Lodge, giving visitors a base from which to explore the region’s wildlife and natural beauty while helping to protect the surrounding reserve. It seemed an ideal next stop for us, especially with more wildlife encounters still to come.

By the time we arrived, it was getting quite late, and we were ready to settle in. We were also fortunate to have Henrique continuing as our guide, which was reassuring after such a successful few days on the river. His knowledge of the area and ability to find wildlife had made our time at Porto Jofre so memorable, and we were delighted that our adventure with him wasn’t quite over.

Our room was lovely, and there was one particularly welcome feature: air conditioning.

The temperatures over the coming days were forecast to climb into the high 30s and possibly even the low 40s Celsius. After the cooler mornings and breezy boat trips of Porto Jofre, that promised to be quite a contrast.

We had said goodbye to the rivers and their jaguars, but the Pantanal still had more to reveal. With a new base, a different landscape to explore and Henrique to guide us,we were ready to see what the next few days would bring.

Sunday 27 September

It was our first morning at Aymara and, of course, a lie-in wasn’t on the cards. Another early start awaited us, but there was plenty to look forward to.

The garden was already alive with birds. Crested Caracaras were particularly abundant, strutting around with an air of confidence that made them seem quite different from the more elusive birds of prey we were used to. Surrounded by folklore and legend throughout Central and South America, they are sometimes known as the “Mexican eagle”, although they actually belong to the falcon family.

Their bare facial skin changes colour with their emotional state, adding to their rather distinctive appearance. I noticed one bird with something black protruding from its beak. A closer look revealed what appeared to be a foot, and the distinctive toes of a Wattled Jacana were unmistakable. It looked as though the caracara had caught itself breakfast!

We met Henrique at reception before climbing aboard the safari vehicle. He explained that Aymara didn’t have quite the same abundance of wildlife as Piuval, but there were still some exciting possibilities if we were lucky. A Maned Wolf had been seen in the area in recent days, as had a Giant Armadillo. Both would be fantastic additions to our sightings list.

The roads around the lodge were pretty rough, and we soon found ourselves clinging on as the truck bounced its way along the sandy tracks.

One familiar face was the Crested Oropendola. I was delighted to see these birds again, particularly their extraordinary nests. Hanging from the branches like enormous pouches, they are woven from plant fibres, vines and leaves. It is quite an impressive feat of construction.

Southern Lapwings were also around. These feisty, territorial birds reminded me of their African relatives, the Spur-winged Lapwings. Both have sharp spurs on their wings, which they can use to defend themselves and attack threats. With their bold behaviour and determined attitude, they always strike me as little feathered warplanes!

Suddenly, our driver brought the truck to a halt and pointed to a pile of droppings on the ground. It was Maned Wolf scat, and it looked very fresh.

Could we be lucky enough to encounter this elusive animal?

We followed its tracks along the sandy road, hoping that the wolf might still be somewhere nearby. Unfortunately, it soon became apparent that we had just missed it. It was frustrating to know that such an extraordinary animal had been so close, but at least we knew one was around. Perhaps we would have another opportunity.

We didn’t see a great deal more during the drive, but things picked up as we returned to the lodge. A group of coatis appeared, although they scattered almost immediately, disappearing into the vegetation in a flash of orange.

After breakfast, Henrique took us on a walk along one of the lodge’s trails. Guests weren’t permitted to explore these paths alone, which was hardly surprising given the wildlife that roamed the area. A jaguar had even been sighted nearby a few weeks earlier!

By now, the temperature was climbing rapidly. The forecast suggested it could reach the high 30s or even low 40s, and I could already feel the sweat trickling down my face. I was secretly relieved that the walk wasn’t going to be particularly long or demanding, and much of the route was shaded by trees.

We made our way down to a river, where we spotted a few Wattled Jacanas, but there wasn’t much other activity. Perhaps the heat had sent everything into hiding. It was certainly becoming uncomfortable for us!

The real magic of Aymara, however, was right on our doorstep. In fact, I suspect that even if you never ventured beyond the lodge grounds, you would still encounter an impressive variety of wildlife.

Just a few feet from our room stood an old tree containing the nest of a pair of Hyacinth Macaws. These magnificent blue parrots would fly around the garden before returning to their nest, and when they weren’t away searching for food or water, one could often be seen peering out of the hole with its head poking into the sunshine. Having such spectacular birds nesting practically outside our bedroom was a real privilege.

Another regular visitor was the Chestnut-bellied Guan, a bird that looks rather like an oversized chicken. It is endemic to Brazil, meaning it occurs nowhere else in the world, and is threatened by habitat loss and hunting. Classified as Vulnerable, it was a reminder that even relatively large and conspicuous birds can be under pressure.

The garden was also home to curassows, close relatives of the guans and, in my opinion, their considerably more glamorous cousins.

The male had a bright yellow beak and an elaborate crest of curly feathers that looked as though it had been carefully styled for a special occasion. The females were equally attractive, with barred black-and-white backs, buff-coloured bellies and their own distinctive black-and-white crests. These reminded me of the sort of elaborate fascinators you might see at a wedding!

With temperatures soaring, the garden’s water sources became popular gathering places. Among the visitors were Azara’s Capuchins, also known as Hooded Capuchins because of the distinctive dark cap of fur on their heads.

These intelligent monkeys are renowned for their problem-solving abilities and can use stones to crack open hard nuts. We were fortunate enough to watch a mother and baby venture down into the garden. The youngster clung tightly to its mother, seemingly determined not to let go for a moment.

Howler Monkeys were also visible in the trees. One large male sat munching leaves while keeping a watchful eye on us below. A member of staff warned us that she had known them to throw their poo at people, so it seemed sensible to keep our distance. I had no intention of provoking him and certainly didn’t fancy becoming the target of his displeasure!

Another remarkable nesting site belonged to the Chestnut-eared Aracaris. They had taken up residence in the hollow of a tall, slender tree trunk. We were told that there were ten individuals inside, which seemed almost impossible given the size of the entrance.

Later, we were lucky enough to see six of them emerge and come down to drink. I still couldn’t get over how unreal they looked. With their brightly coloured bills and striking plumage, they resembled colourful wooden marionettes, as though they had been crafted in a toy workshop rather than created by nature.

Black Vultures were another common sight. Nature’s own clean-up crew, they were often seen soaring overhead, riding the rising columns of warm air. Around the lodge, however, they were just as likely to be found on the ground or gathered around the water. They were certainly never far away.

Late in the afternoon, we headed out with Henrique again, hoping for a few more wildlife encounters.

We had barely left the lodge when we came across a tapir cooling off in a pool of water. Unlike some of the other tapirs we had seen, which had immediately bolted into the vegetation, this one seemed remarkably relaxed. It simply stood in the water, allowing us to enjoy a wonderful close-up view.

Tapirs have such an unusual appearance. With their rounded bodies and short, flexible snouts, they look rather like a curious cross between a pig and an anteater. Seeing one at such close quarters was a real treat.

Not long afterwards, we spotted three Hyacinth Macaws perched in a tree. Their unmistakable calls carried across the landscape, making it impossible to overlook their presence.

Henrique then took us to a watering hole, suggesting that we settle down and wait to see what might come to drink. Sometimes wildlife watching is all about patience, and this was a lovely opportunity simply to sit quietly and enjoy our surroundings.

We listened to the constant chorus of birds while cattle slowly made their way back towards the herd. A few Brocket Deer cautiously approached the water, their nervous movements betraying their awareness of the world around them.

We kept hoping that the Maned Wolf might put in an appearance, but sadly it never materialised. Nevertheless, there was something wonderfully peaceful about sitting there, watching the activity around the water and enjoying the gradual transition from day to evening.

As the sun began to set, I noticed the moon rising above the horizon. It was an extraordinary shade of deep orange, almost blood-red in appearance.

I had seen blood moons at home, but never one quite so vivid. Low on the horizon, it glowed against the fading light, creating a striking end to the day. As the evening progressed and the moon climbed higher, its colour became much less intense and it began to look more familiar.

It was a fitting end to our first day at Aymara. Although we hadn’t found the Maned Wolf or Giant Armadillo we had hoped for, the lodge’s garden had provided a wealth of wildlife encounters, from nesting macaws and curious monkeys to brightly coloured aracaris and a wonderfully obliging tapir.

Sometimes, the best wildlife experiences aren’t necessarily found on a long safari drive. At Aymara, we were discovering that some of the most rewarding encounters could happen just a few steps from our room.

Monday 28 September

It was our final morning at Aymara, and there was time for one last safari drive. We still hadn’t given up hope of seeing a Maned Wolf, so perhaps this would be our chance.

We had barely left the lodge when a tapir crossed the track in front of us. It ambled along, its enormous bulk moving surprisingly effortlessly through the undergrowth before disappearing into the vegetation. It was a lovely start to our final morning.

Henrique then took us to a small pool where a dozen or so baby caimans were gathered. They were remarkably still, with little more than their heads visible above the water. At this tiny size, they were vulnerable to predators and would make an easy meal for a Crested Caracara or another bird of prey. It was fascinating to see so many young caimans in one place, although life in the Pantanal is certainly not easy when you start out at the bottom of the food chain!

Among the birds we encountered were a Savanna Hawk and a particularly beautiful Orange-backed Troupial. Its vivid orange plumage stood out brilliantly against the surrounding greenery, making it impossible to miss.

As we continued along the track, our driver suddenly stopped the vehicle. Henrique had recognised an alarm call from a bird, and he explained that this could mean only one thing: a large predator was nearby.

We began looking for tracks and soon picked up footprints. But this wasn’t a jaguar. The signs pointed to a puma!

Pumas are notoriously difficult to see here. Unlike jaguars, which we had become remarkably accustomed to encountering on our river excursions, pumas tend to be shy and elusive. They are masters of disappearing into the landscape.

We carefully scanned the surrounding vegetation, hoping for even a fleeting glimpse of this magnificent cat. Unfortunately, it was nowhere to be seen. We had confirmation that one was nearby, but once again, the Pantanal’s more secretive inhabitants had managed to evade us.

It was back to the lodge for breakfast, followed by one last opportunity to explore the gardens before our departure for Cuiabá.

The temperature was already soaring, with the forecast suggesting it would reach the low 40s. It was going to be another scorching day, and we were certainly glad to be exploring at a leisurely pace.

Among the trees, a couple of Blue-fronted Amazons came down to drink. Although these parrots are common in the region, I had only seen them at a distance or flying overhead during the trip. It was wonderful to finally get a better look.

Their predominantly bright green plumage almost glowed in the sunlight, complemented by a yellow crown and the distinctive patch of blue on the forehead that gives them their name. Their shoulders also displayed beautiful yellow and red markings. They were every bit as attractive as I had hoped.

A walk to the small pool near the lodge proved equally rewarding. We had often seen Sunbitterns in this area, but on this occasion, one decided to give us a spectacular display.

It spread its wings wide, revealing an extraordinary pattern of bold, sunburst-like markings in orange, red, black and gold. The large eye-like spots on the wings are thought to startle or confuse potential predators, making the bird appear more formidable than it otherwise might. With its wings fully extended, the Sunbittern was transformed from a rather understated bird into something truly spectacular. It was a wonderful photographic opportunity and a fitting highlight for our final morning.

Nearby, we spotted a pair of Blue-throated Piping Guans sitting close together in a tree. The Hyacinth Macaws were also very much in evidence, their brilliant blue plumage impossible to overlook, while a lone aracari made another appearance.

The garden had once again delivered an impressive variety of wildlife without us needing to venture far from our room. It was a reminder of just how rewarding Aymara had been, particularly for anyone who loves birds and the smaller details of the natural world.

Sadly, it was time to tear ourselves away and begin the journey back to Cuiabá.

Before taking us to the airport, Henrique arranged for us to stop at a Brazilian barbecue restaurant. It was a fitting way to round off our adventure. Waiters circulated around the tables carrying enormous skewers loaded with different cuts of meat. If something took your fancy, they would slice off a portion using an impressively large, razor-sharp knife. There was certainly no shortage of choice, and it was a lovely opportunity to enjoy one final taste of Brazil before heading home.

Eventually, we said our goodbyes to Henrique and made our way into the airport.

It was difficult to believe that our time in the Pantanal had come to an end. We had experienced so much in such a short period that it would take a while to process everything we had seen. The jaguar encounters alone had been extraordinary, from watching mothers with their cubs to observing these magnificent cats resting, swimming and moving along the riverbanks.

But the Pantanal had offered us far more than jaguars. We had encountered an incredible variety of birds, watched giant river otters playing in the water, seen tapirs at close quarters and learned so much about the intricate workings of this remarkable ecosystem.

Henrique and his team had been exceptional throughout. Their knowledge, patience and ability to find wildlife had made the experience all the more special. We felt incredibly fortunate to have explored this extraordinary landscape in their capable hands.

We had arrived hoping for wonderful wildlife encounters, but the Pantanal had exceeded our expectations in so many ways. We were leaving with thousands of memories, countless photographs and a much greater appreciation of this unique corner of Brazil.

What an experience! It was a trip we would remember for a very long time.