A first feline encounter: Youthful recklessness and fate bring about a thrilling big cat encounter in the Costa Rican jungle

Corcovado National Park

It had been a spectacular few days in the lush, rainforest cloaked Corcovado National Park, on Costa Rica’s Osa Peninsular. Myself and my partner in crime, the lovely Sarit, a dark haired sassy Israeli girl who I’d met in some cheap as chips dive of a hostel in Antigua Guatemala, had been truckin’ across Central America for several months, exploring the region’s national parks, mountains, islands and reefs.

The occasional lover…

Sarit was my friend and occasional lover. This was a situation I found confusing, but which she seemed quite comfortable with. Being young and naïve, and perhaps overly romantically inclined, I would have liked it to be more. But Sarit was older, more worldly and she knew better than get herself involved with a boy like me. Nevertheless, I was adventurous company.

Empty of souls

We trekked across the National Park, following a rough description in a guide book. This involved wading up a beautiful jungle fringed river in our flip-flops. Then we headed overland, across the peninsula, to a camp set in the jungle, overlooking an endless beach. The beach was deliciously empty of souls. The Pacific Ocean lapped gently against the sand and stretched unimpeded halfway across the planet to Asia. Truly ‘The Big Blue!’

A wild place

The sandflies in Corcavado were a brutal, blood sucking nightmare, but nothing could take away from the wild magnificence of the National Park: Tapirs and Scarlet Macaws on the beach, Basilisk Lizards (otherwise known as Jesus Christ Lizards) running on water. But no big cats. The park was well-known for its jaguar population.

On our final night in the park, lightning and thunder filled the night with fury. A howling gale battered and bent our tent. Me and Sarit clung to each other in the dark, fearful that one of lightning bolts carving across the sky would find us. Or perhaps bring down a one of the trees that swayed and growned over our heads. We woke up in a bath of water and after the wild storm I was surprised that our tent, and us, were still there at all, not floating somewhere in the ocean.

**A rare glimpse of a Tapir on the Beach!**

With first light, we packed our soaking tent and gear and started trekking towards the Park’s southern border. Cats would have to wait….

A shadow in the forest

After a day of hiking I began wading the last river. I was in front of Sarit. Looking left, I caught myself. 15 meters upstream, an animal the size of a large dog was elegantly crossing the tea coloured water, before lithely bounding up the far bank and disappearing into the jungle. A puma! Stunned and thrilled, I scrambled up the far bank and onto the trail, hoping to catch a glimpse in the forest to my left. I wasn’t afraid, I was ecstatic!

Too close for comfort

I ran to the top of a rise, only to be frozen in my tracks as an equally shocked puma, radiant in its bronze coat, hunched down on its forelegs and hissed back at me only 3 or 4 metres ahead. A tricky moment! What to do now? The puma pulled itself together and we decided to part company, me frozen to the spot, the cat getting to its feet and stalking back into the dense forest. Looking down at my hands I realized I was shaking. Sarit caught up with me and I explained in amazed, frantic excitement what had just happened.

**Once upon a time in Central America! Me, Sarit and good friend Iddo!**

Wild feline eyes

We continued walking down the trail. I was awed by what I’d seen. And then a now familiar, bronze behind appeared once again on the trail in front. The puma, slightly put out, stared back at the irritating humans, invading its peace and its home. It gave me one last dismissive look and stalked regally into the forest and disappeared. I’ll never forget that day. Wild feline eyes and a privileged first encounter!