Nataly Castelblanco, Colombia
My name is Nataly Castelblanco, and I was born in Bogotá, in the Andes of Colombia, far from any river or the sea.
By the time I finished my biology degree, I was captivated by aquatic mammals. At that time manatees were a mystery to me. I was amazed by the first videos and pictures of manatees I saw, they looked like sweet potatoes swimming in slow motion in the blue waters of Florida. In 1999, Sarita Kendall invited me to study the behaviour of an Amazonian manatee calf that was in rehabilitation in Puerto Nariño, in the Colombian Amazon. This sounded like a dream research project to me. Airuwe was my first real manatee, he was the sweetest calf. I was in charge of feeding him every three hours, at day or at night, under the sun or in rain. I spent hours and hours taking notes and describing every one of his movements. By then, I had read a lot about manatees but most of the literature was related to coastal manatees. I wanted to know more about riverine manatees.
Two years later, I took a small plane to Puerto Carreño, on the border with Venezuela. I had the opportunity to study wild manatees in one of the most beautiful places in the world: the Orinoco River. I spent many endless days sitting on a high rock at the river’s edge, trying to spot a little nose, the glimpse of a back, the tip of a tail. On one occasion, after 15 days under the merciless sun without any sign of manatees, I decided to take my little canoe and I anchored it in the middle of the river. There was no wind, no noise, no dolphins, no birds. I was overwhelmed by the immensity of the river, it was like a mirror tainted by tea, its waters licking the orange beaches, the black rocks looming like giant watchers, the current rocking my canoe so gently. I almost forgot about manatees, it was just me, small as I am, and the river. Suddenly, I heard a strong blow coming just a few meters from my canoe, and almost immediately another one, and another one, and another one. I counted nine! I dropped my notebook, my hydrophone and my camera. I just stayed there watching this wonderful group of manatees exhibiting intense social behavior, slapping tails, showing the whole body, spying with the head above the water, passing under my little canoe. The water was very transparent and for 20 minutes, I could see the little hairs on their backs, the eyes, the scars, the nails. It was so close, so surreal and sublime. They were huge and covered with orange sand, and they were beautiful, like no other creature. I keep this memory as the most vibrant experience I ever had with manatees. At the time I was starting my career as a manatee biologist, but if ever something like this happens to me again, I know I will get the same shiver of excitement and curiosity (maybe this time I will take photos). Manatees are still a mystery to me.
