Patricia Chapple Wright - High Moon Over the Amazon: My Quest to Understand the Monkeys of the Night

2013

Lantern Books

128 Second Place

Brooklyn, NY 11231

www.lanternbooks.com

Copyright 2013 Patricia Chapple Wright

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of Lantern Books.

Printed in the United States of America

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Wright, Patricia C., 1944

High moon over the Amazon : my quest to understand the monkeys of the night / Patricia Chapple Wright.

pages cm

ISBN 978-1-59056-421-9 (hardcover : alk. paper) ISBN 978-1-59056-422-6 (ebook)

1. Night monkeys. 2. Wright, Patricia C., 1944 3. Night monkeysBehaviorResearchPeru. 4. Titis (Mammals)BehaviorResearchPeru. I. Title.

QL737.P957W75 2013

599.8180985dc23

2012046017

To Amanda Elizabeth Wright

And to Herbie and Kendra, who started it all

CHAPTER ONE

(New York, 1968)

CHAPTER TWO

(Colombia, 1971)

CHAPTER THREE

(Costa Rica, 1972)

CHAPTER FOUR

(Cape Cod, 197375)

CHAPTER FIVE

(Puerto Bermdez, 1976)

CHAPTER SIX

(New York and Peru 197780)

CHAPTER SEVEN

(Cocha Cashu, 1980)

CHAPTER EIGHT

(Cocha Cashu, 1980)

CHAPTER NINE

(Cocha Cashu and Puerto Bermdez, Dec 1980 Jan 1981)

CHAPTER TEN

(Cocha Cashu, JanMay 1981)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

(Cocha Cashu, 1981)

CHAPTER TWELVE

(New York, 198283)

My mother, Julia Chapple, and father, Ed Chapple, always encouraged me to follow my dreams and cherish the natural world, and I would like to thank them for providing me with a firm foundation. My daughter, Amanda, has made this story possible by tolerating and enjoying years of jungles and monkey adventures. James Wright, my first husband, chose Herbie to begin with. Jim and Betty Wright, his parents, encouraged us in all endeavors in our early years. Herbie and Kendra were my inspiration to find out why they did what they did. Nancy Mulligan took a chance and funded the first expedition to find out what owl monkeys do in the wild.

Warren Kinzey, my academic advisor, encouraged me at every step of my career. His kindness and patience will never be forgotten. He taught me to look at the whole ecosystem, to never forget what the anatomy can tell you, and that persistence and motivation pay off. John Oates taught me to question everything, and that science and conservation go together. John Terborgh invited me to Man National Park, and indeed there is no better place to raise a child. He also kindly supported us at Princeton. Charlie Janson showed me how to follow daytime monkeys and to observe carefully. Robin Foster inspired me to look at the world from a botanical view. Louise Emmons mentored me on how to trap, track, and study nocturnal mammals. Scott Robinson gave us the birds' eye view. Charlie Munn taught Amanda to burp and draw birds. Nina Pierrepont was a good friend in difficult days in the rainforest. Anne Wilson Goldizen collaborated on learning why monkeys do what they do. Dave Sivertson is thanked for his assistance with playbacks and recording Aotus hoots, and thanks to John Allman for sending Dave to the Man National Park. Patrick Daniels devoted years of his time to be my field assistant and my friend. Cirilo Lujan is thanked for being my guide in Puerto Bermdez and then in the rainy season of the Man. Adremildo and his family were important support for Amanda, James, and me in Puerto Bermdez. Thanks to Peggy Stern for her assistance following Callicebus in 1982 in the Man.

Mia and Floyd Glenn are thanked for babysitting the owl monkeys while I was in Peru. John Fleagle gave his support and kind encouragement, and took my monkeys into his home in 1981. Fran Jones Frummer and Lisa Forman let Amanda and me live with them in difficult times. Chris and Maureen Chapple, my brother and sister-in-law, cared for Amanda in the second grade. Ted Chapple, my brother, has given his continuous support and advice. I would also like to thank Elwyn Simons for giving me my first job, and Friderun Simons, Verne, and Cornelia Simons Seifert for helping Amanda with her quarter horse and being such good friends.

And to all my friends and colleagues who helped make this owl monkey study and life possible.

For helping with crafting earlier versions of the manuscript I thank Julia Chapple, Maureen Chapple, Jukka Jernvall, and Rachel Ryan, and for guiding the more final versions, Noel Rowe, Wendy Lee, Kara Davis, and Martin Rowe.

(New York, 1968)

W AAWWRRKKKK! MY EYES shot up to the bright red and blue giant macaws, preening their feathers and calling for attention. Below them, emerald green and gold frogs shimmered on broad, glossy leaves. A giant, hairy tarantula crouched, immobile, waiting for its next prey. Waawwrrkkkk! The macaws' call pierced the air again. I glimpsed a pair of dark brown eyes wincing and realized someone else disliked the dissonance of the parrot calls.

We had arrived early to the Fillmore East to experience Jimi Hendrix when the rain hit. We burst into the pet shop Fish N Cheeps to escape the pounding rainstorm. The cozy, mammalian scent and raucous parrot sounds transformed the harshness of Greenwich Village streets to the sounds and warmth of the tropics. As I approached the chocolate brown woolly monkey, who had shied from the loud calls, he reached slowly out of his cage to me, as if to shake my hand. Woollys are some of the largest monkeys in South America, and I had never seen one up close before. His round face was very childlike, and his expression disarming. I turned to Jamie, my artist husband, to show him my new friend. But Jamie was intrigued by a small monkey on the other side of the shop.

This is the one I like, he murmured.

At first, I couldn't tell what Jamie saw in this monkey. The little grayish monkey was asleep, curled up with his head tucked under his knees and his tail wrapped neatly over his head, as if to protect him from intrusion. I poked at him gently, and he awoke with a lunge toward my finger.

I don't think he likes me, I whispered.

The monkey scowled his annoyance at being woken up at this hour. His huge golden brown eyes were made more dramatic by white patches accented with black triangles for eyebrows.

What kind of a monkey is this? I asked the elderly shopkeeper.

It's an owl monkey from the Amazon. Sleeps all day, that's all I know about it.

How old is he? When did he come in and how much does he cost? The questions came flooding out.

But the answers were abrupt. Young, three days ago, forty bucks.

Is he destructive, loud? What does he eat?

All I've seen him do is sleep, and the monkey chow is gone in the morning.

The two-pound monkey opened its golden eyes again and looked into mine. A charming harlequin face with a droll, built-in smile.

I need someone to keep me company while I'm painting at night. Jamie spoke under his breath as he bent over to get a closer look.