Monkey Business
The Photo Ark, an ambitious project led by National Geographic photographer Joel Sartore, aims to document every species in human care, highlighting the beauty and fragility of the natural world. At the heart of the project is a reliance on cutting-edge tools, including lighting solutions from Elinchrom, which enable Sartore to capture these creatures in stunning detail, even in the most challenging environments.
It took two full days to fly from Omaha to Atlanta to Lima to Huanuco, Peru, then a big drive up and over the Andes in an SUV that was excessively small for our luggage.
Son Cole and I were here for the Photo Ark, and our goal was to reach a little jungle town that was home to the world’s only captive, yellow-tailed woolly monkey, a species thought extinct for more than 100 years. Now rediscovered, it was to be the jewel in the crown of the entire trip.
We arrived in the dark to an empty lodge set way back in the forest. Most of it was open air, including the guest rooms. I did not see any guests except a wild howler monkey asleep on a couch in the lobby. A three-toed sloth hung from the ceiling over him. Our room was hot but at least there was a fan and a screen on the window. Sunrise would be at 6am, breakfast at 7, monkey shooting by 8. Or so we thought.
By dawn, the sloth was in the same place, but the howler monkey had moved to a padded chair at the reception desk. Howlers are notoriously laid-back, not moving much until a couple hours after sunrise. I shot close ups with my I-phone as he stared blankly at me. He was obviously not a morning person.
Promptly at eight, Hugo the Monkey Man showed up. He walked us towards some empty buildings, staying on an elevated concrete walk at all times because bushmasters (venomous snakes) could be hiding anywhere in the thick leaves on the ground. At the end of the walk was the shell of a concrete house with floor-to-ceiling enclosures inside made of cyclone fencing, the remains of a once vibrant wildlife rehab center.
There, in the back of the living room, was THE monkey, up near the ceiling and swaying back and forth, checking us out. In the space next to us were two macaws and a handful of Amazon parrots, mostly just screeching, but with the occasional Spanish phrase tossed in. We put in our earplugs and began to build our lighting set up: four Elinchrom FIVE, battery-powered and perfect for a building with no electricity.
As we worked, Monkey Man told us his story. When the center closed at the start of the Pandemic, everything stopped here. Funding dwindled for food and maintenance. He let every animal go free that could make it in the wild, which left him with just a few non-releasable primates, birds and a handful of bears.
Soon things began to deteriorate, as if the jungle wanted it all back. He worked constantly to cut vegetation out of pens, haul water, and mend fencing. He began to spend his own savings on the food needed to keep all the remaining animals alive. Somehow, they made it through, though funding is still scarce.
Once our lights were set up in a protected space over the set as he called gently to the monkey to come on over. A bit of fruit tossed inside sweetened the deal, and the monkey eventually went in, but our shoot was not to be. Not yet at least.
Instead of posing nicely, the primate promptly went into a corner, curled up and stayed there. For an hour. I eventually backed away and set my camera down, hoping he’d relax. A few minutes later Cole yelled, ‘He’s getting out!’ I spun around and knocked my camera off a bag, where it fell to the floor, landing lens-down and shattering the lens filter.
Eventually the creature shifted back into his normal enclosure, away from my light. I borrowed a hacksaw and began to cut the shattered filter off the front of my lens.
Thankfully, no lights were broken, but clearly, we needed to switch to our Plan B; a heavy wire dog kennel that we brought as a backup. We put the kennel into the larger enclosure, the curious monkey entered right away, and we finally got to work, some three hours after we had started.
Once inside our shooting kennel, we got stills and video of the monkey on black and white within an hour, mission accomplished. It was a huge relief, as this was the species we built our entire trip around.
We loaded our gear, said bye to the lodge’s howler monkey (still lounging) and drove back up and over the Andes, back to the nearest city with an airport, some four hours away. Cole found a moth in the airport bathroom, which he caught in the small plastic container I use for holding my radio triggers, doubling our species count to two. We photographed the moth and let it go. We moved around daily after that, going to nine other locations within Peru, seeking out mammals, birds, amphibians, reptiles, fish and invertebrates. Our fixer/translator Rocio had scouted most locations before our arrival, and knew which species we could photograph at each place.
In Iquitos we got a saki monkey, a South American coati, a giant otter and a Nancy Ma’s night monkey. In Arequipa it was a Guayaquil squirrel and an Amazonian giant centipede, a species so venomous that a five-second bite will leave you in howling pain for weeks. I photographed it in the bottom of a five-gallon black bucket, too slippery for him to climb out. Better safe than screaming, I always say.
In Lima, we got a yellow-legged honeycreeper, a redheaded barbet, and several Lake Titicaca frogs saved from being chopped up and made into mixed drinks at a nightclub. Some bar patrons believe that putting a rare frog into a blender, then chugging the results, will lead to health benefits. It’s not true, and it’s abhorrent. However, thanks to a confiscation by the Peruvian government, all were safe now at the Huachipa Zoo.
We also photographed another confiscated animal, a red uakari monkey. Called ‘The Old Man of the Forest’ for how they look, this one was just a baby that had been rescued from the pet trade, and was being raised by a wildlife rehabber. It spent part of each day either playing in her hair, or snuggled in a beach towel slung over her shoulder. As long as she could hang with her adopted mom, she would thrive.
Oddly, of all we experienced, the hardest part of the trip was flying home. For three nights in a row, our long-haul flights from South America to Atlanta were canceled due to mechanical issues. Plane #1 had a fuel leak that stunk up the cabin. The next night, plane #2 had a broken wing piece. Plane #3 had sparks shoot out of the engine on push back.
The bottom line is, no matter where on Earth you go, travel is hard work. So we accept the bumps in the road as a given, and move forward. After all, working on the Photo Ark is an honor and a privilege. Plus it’s never boring. Moreover, I’m thankful to be grant-funded by National Geographic, and for Elinchrom’s support as well.
