A bellbird’s-eye view of the Bellbird Biological Corridor

By Stephanie Sidoti

MONTEVERDE, Costa Rica — The Bellbird Biological Corridor, known in Spanish as the Corredor Biológico Pájaro Campana, includes about 163 acres of land from Monteverde to the Gulf of Nicoya. The corridor project was started as an effort to help protect the habitat of the migratory three-wattled bellbird, which can be heard calling from the forests of Costa Rica.

Food Fights in the Bellbird Biological Corridor

Conservation focuses on reforestation of farmland in Bellbird Biological Corridor

By Courtney McBay

SAN LUIS, Costa Rica — Viewed from the Trocha lookout over San Luis, rolling hills once covered by thick forest now have random patches cleared for pasture. Cows for beef and dairy now graze where monkeys once swung from tall trees while brightly colored birds sang.

The lookout over San Luis exemplifies the inconsistent forests in the corridor. Photo by Stephanie Sidoti
Viewers can see the patchwork of farms and forests covering the hills of San Luis from the Trocha lookout point.
Photo by Stephanie Sidoti

Farmland took over the wild landscape before ecotourism became the primary economic activity in the Monteverde area. Agriculture was the key to mountainside Ticos’ success.

Now, as guests flock to hike through Monteverde’s natural attractions, the community’s focus has shifted to preserving forests rather than producing food.

Guillermo Vargas, a farmer in the area, focuses his operation on sustainable agriculture. His farming decisions are based on planning for the long term.

“People enjoying life now, not economy, is the number one goal,” Vargas said. “We need to be preparing for 1,000 years from now.”

The first Ticos came to the forest areas in the early 20th century as Costa Rica’s coffee industry began to suffer, he said.

“They needed a new avenue,” he said.

Vargas said the “Great Grandpa Ticos” were told to go to the forest, cut the trees and farm. The government promised the farmers titles to their land after they had farmed it for 10 years.

The introduction of chemical fertilizers and herbicides along with strains of resilient pasture grass contributed to the widespread deforestation that took place prior to the tourism boom in the late 1980s.

Cows graze in grassy pastures where trees once stood in San Luis. Photo by Stephanie Sidoti
Cows graze in grassy pastures where trees once stood in San Luis. Many communities still rely on agriculture as a primary income source.
Photo by Stephanie Sidoti

Marcos Mendez, a nature guide, said agricultural technology assists in farm success.

But despite “cows loving it,” these innovations are “the number one enemy of environment and conservation,” Mendez said.

Mendez has guided visitors through the dense Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve for 10 years, pointing out colorful plants and identifying whistling bird calls. He calls on memories of lost endemic species, such as the extinct golden toad. He said he doesn’t know of another cloud forest guide who has seen the fiery throated hummingbird, a creature that formerly fluttered about the forest freely, in eight years.

Mendez is not a scientist, but based on his forest observations, he attributes the loss of species to climate change and deforestation.

Anibal Torres of the Monteverde Institute leads the organization’s Sustainable Futures Program. The ecotourism boom has reversed some of the deforestation caused by agriculture, he said.

Torres said education outreach initiatives equip farmers with the knowledge to “make better use of the land.”

But conversations about reforestation can be difficult in Monteverde’s neighboring towns, where most economic activity still thrives on agriculture.

Even with education emphasizing the importance of forest preservation, many farmers are faced with the choice to feed their families now or to conserve their forest for the future.

“There is no conservation for the hungry,” said Victorino Molina Rojas, founder of the Costa Rican Conservation Foundation.

The foundation joined forces with six other conservation-minded organizations to form the Bellbird Biological Corridor in 2007. The project advocates for reforestation in at least 10 life zones extending from Monteverde to the Gulf of Nicoya.

FCC president Evelyn Casares Cespedes said convincing farmers to plant trees on their land is never easy.

“It is always a fight,” Casares said through a translator.

Although the government gives incentives for planting trees on deforested land —$600 per hectare over five years – it is simply not enough to live for most farmers.

“They can cut down three trees and make as much as that payment,” Casares said.

Evelyn Casaras and her colleagues travel the biological corridor to advocate for the importance of reforestation. Photo by Kristi Luther
Evelyn Casares and her colleagues travel the biological corridor to advocate for the importance of reforestation and collaborate with farmers.
Photo by Kristi Luther

Casares and her fellow Fighters for the Forest are convinced the conservation conversation must be a compromise with farmers.

Reforestation is a cooperative effort for the communities in the biological corridor.

The Monteverde Institute and the conservation foundation plan to continue collaboration with farmers to ensure sustainable futures for both farms and forests.

Responsible fishing areas catching on

By Josh Booth

PUNTA MORALES, Costa Rica — What started out as a dire situation in the Gulf of Nicoya is beginning to turn around.

The Bellbird Biological Corridor starts at Monteverde, and the lower limit ends at the Gulf of Nicoya, the most important area for small fisherman.

The fishing communities surrounding the gulf have seen hard times.  As the catch declined dramatically over the past few years, the towns suffered economically, said Ramiro Segura, an administrator with marine biology station at the National University of Costa Rica.

A local fisherman docks his boat to clean his catch after taking three national tourists to fish in the Gulf of Nicoya. Photo by Stephanie Sidoti
A local fisherman docks his boat to clean his catch after taking three national tourists to fish in the Gulf of Nicoya. Photo by Stephanie Sidoti

Segura outlined how it all happened.

First, fishing fleets in the area were keeping all the fish they hauled in.  They did not pick out the specific fish they wanted.

Next, small fishermen could not compete with industrial fleets.

Some fishermen turned to illegal activities, such as using fishing nets with different sizes of mesh.  They would use smaller-mesh nets so they would catch more fish.

As they caught smaller, younger fish, they depleted the fish population; the fish were caught before they had time to reproduce.

Small fishermen also had trouble keeping up with a rising demand for seafood.

Finally, mangroves, where fish can hide, were being replaced by shrimp farms and salt mines.

All of this prompted the communities to act.  What they came up with were designated areas for responsible fishing.

“People have come together to be sustainable,” Segura said through a translator.

Some communities banned all fishing from the designated areas, except for family, friends and a few others who could fish using poles, he said. Government agencies enforced the restrictions.

“It has created a domino effect in some areas,” Segura said.

Other communities around the gulf are seeing the benefits.

Fishers in the responsible fishing areas are now catching bigger fish, because the younger fish have time to grow.  More tourists are coming to the gulf, using local residents as fishing guides and providing a new form of income for the communities.

Larger fish are being caught in responsible fishing areas. Photo by Stephanie Sidoti
Larger fish are being caught in the new responsible fishing areas fishermen have set up in the Gulf of Nicoya. Photo by Stephanie Sidoti