This tiny nest (about the size of the palm of my hand) hangs out over the water and is made by a flycatcher (sorry bird friends, I still need to figure out the species). We peeked inside and saw 2 tiny eggs about as big as the tip of my pinky finger.

We also stopped at a village called Moita Seca II at the end of a large channel (I hadn’t been there yet) and spoke to a man who said manatees rarely come there now, but he had seen one this past June and he pointed out a small river nearby where they were sighted more frequently. The river has a lot of fallen logs, so only non-motorized boats can navigate it. He also proudly told us that the manatee hunter had come by there a few years ago, and their village told him to go away because they didn’t want him to kill their manatees. This was not altruism towards the manatees, but rather the village felt the manatees were theirs and if anyone was going to kill them, it should be them. However, they didn’t hunt manatees, so it was actually a form of protection. The man also told us they knew manatees only had one calf every year or two. When I asked him how he knew this, he said that many years ago a pregnant female had been killed at Pululu (several villages away) and they had seen that it had only one large fetus. They assumed that like other large animals they know (hippos, etc.) manatees must reproduce slowly.

A Fiddler Crab waving his claw
A Common Whimbrel enjoys solitude on a mudflat in Pululu Channel