Chapter 4
The boat chugged along in the rain for another
hour, still fighting the current of the swift flowing Congo River. Just before
noon the rain let up, leaving heavy grey mist clinging to the banks of the
river. The clouds parted and as the sun
came out, rays of light shone into the area known as Cuvette Centrale, an area
bounded on the west, north and east by a large curve in the Congo River. Gradually they passed the confluences of slow
moving tributaries on the shores of the Congo and Roger pointed out the Maringa,
Ikelemba and Lomela Rivers. After a
time, they slowed the boat and turned up the Lokoro River nearing a prime bonobo
habitat area. After a couple of kilometers,
the captain looked for a small clearing where the trees had been slashed back to
make room for a boat to go ashore. It
took several minutes but eventually Amos started waving at some people he
obviously knew and as they got closer, he grinned and jumped over the side, pulling
the boat in as close as he could get it to shore. The captain shut off the
engine and the sounds of the jungle came alive with screeching animals and tropical
bird song. Roger and the girls grabbed their backpacks and after looking for
snakes, stepped knee deep into the murky green water, wading to shore while
Amos and a couple of porters started transferring supplies off of the boat. A tall,
good looking man in army fatigues, shouldered his rifle and stepped forward,
offering Patty a hand up the muddy river bank.
“Hey, I’m Mike. Mike Cooper at your
service.” He helped Celeste up the bank as well.
Both girls knew Dr. Michael W. Cooper by
name. He was well known in primate circles as a bonobo expert and was
responsible for starting and maintaining the Bonobo Forest Sanctuary. He was also staring at them, making no excuses
for his roving eyes and friendly smile.
Roger shook Mike’s hand. They were old
friends. In fact, Mike was Roger’s mentor and they had known each other for many
years. “Hey Mike, how you doing you bugger?” he laughed, a big smile on his
face.
“Oh, I’m not so bad. You look like you
have been living the good life. How was Kinshasa”.
Roger smiled, “Oh not so bad. I stayed
at the Memling.” Roger had been gone for
ten days, arranging for supplies and emailing reports on behalf of the research
centre.
“Let me introduce you to a couple of homeless
girls I picked up in Johannesburg.”
The girls smiled.
“I’m Patty”.
“… and I’m Celeste”
They smiled while shaking hands with
Mike.
“Glad you made it. We thought you were
coming on last week’s boat?”
“I don’t know who told you that. The
funding was hit or miss but we managed to get everything we needed. Thank goodness for the ZSM.”
The ZSM was the Zoological Society of
Milwaukee, and thanks to contributions from bonobo conservationists around the
world, the Wisconsin based think-tank had developed an action plan for the
Cuvette Centrale. Using 20 years of
research, most of which was gathered by Roger and Mike as well as a team of Japanese
researchers, the action plan identified priority actions for researchers,
government officials and donor agencies. The recommendations included training
for Congolese nationals as well as protection for endangered groups of bonobos.
With the recommendations came money to hire armed wardens, build schools, hire
teachers, provide medicine, as well as funds for a new agricultural project to
teach the locals how to grow their own food so they would depend less on
endangered animals as food sources. Roger, Patty and Celeste were sponsored by
the ZSM and although they would not receive wages, all of their expenses were
covered.
After a few minutes of chitchat,
including time for the girls to empty their full bladders behind a group of trees,
the group set off for the camp about 1 kilometer up the river trail. Roger and Mike led the way with Amos, who also
carried a rifle. Poachers had used this very trail in the night and shots had
been heard at daybreak not far from the camp.
Patty and Celeste walked behind the men,
carrying their backpacks while a half dozen porters brought up the rear, with one
left behind to guard the supplies. They would make several trips over the day.
