The Jaguar Smiles

The Paraguay River turned out to be much wider than I had expected. Before our boat took off from the hotel's jetty at breakneck speed in the hot afternoon sun, I had asked Ben, our guide, the distance we expected to cover. “A lot – maybe fifteen to twenty kilometres,” he replied. So this Ferrari of boats did not let up. Soon Alessandro, our boatman, was talking over his radio. Another boat had spotted a jaguar and we sped to the spot before it disappeared.

Turning right from the river into an oxbow lake, our boat slowed as the channel narrowed. The water's surface, which was clear on the big river, was now sporadically covered by water hyacinth. Large trees lined the banks: Tabebuia, Bocaysia decorated with yellow flowers, Acuri palms, Coratella, all exotic to me.

We soon found the other boat, sitting still in front of a raised sandbar behind which grew a thicket of trees. I saw it then, in the shade of the thicket, the king of the Latin American jungle, the Jaguar. Its massive size and languid fluid movements belied its strength and dexterity. It moved back and forth a little, stuck out its impossibly long tongue, yawned and sat down. After a while it stood up, stared intently at the two boats and sauntered into the darkest shade. There it lay down to nap.

Out second jaguar sighting was the next morning. It was a larger alpha male that strolled along the bank for perhaps a full kilometer while we followed it by boat. Again, it moved with those fluid movements. Standing next to a large thorny, scrubby bush, it raised its tail in an upward curve and urinated. And then it did something funny. Slowly but surely, it rubbed its body over different parts of the bush. I thought it might be scratching itself but Ben said it was spreading its urine as a sign of territory claimed.

Our third jaguar sighting was our best: two cubs with their mother. They were all standing near the bank when we showed up. The mother got up and walked off into the bushes and the cubs lingered before following her. We followed in our boats. Every once in a while they emerged into the bank. Then, seeing us, they returned to the darkness.

Ben posited that the mother might be stressed and worried due to the presence of the male nearby and wanted to cross the river to a safer zone. Our presence, however, was keeping her from doing so. We decided to move away our boat and watched from a distance. Sure enough they came out and swam across the river, mother first, then the cubs, only the heads showing. After crossing they disappeared into the dense forest.

The word “jaguar” comes from Toupi Indian language, and it means “kills at once.” The large cat, endowed with the strongest jaws of the cat family, kills with its ferocious bite. Brazil has several thousand Jaguars in the Pantanal, the world's largest tropical wetland. They are easier to see in the dry season, July to October. There are many tour operators working out of Cuiaba, the nearest city, and Jaguar tours of different lengths are available. I am glad I went (with Pantanal Jaguar Safaris) and would re-live the thrill in a heartbeat.

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