Coquí Means Loud

El Yunque is a tropical rainforest of some 28,000 acres, lying in the Luquillo mountains. WW was very keen to visit the area, since about 14 endemic species of orchid grow there, as well as some introduced species.

We had booked a cabin with Phillips Family Cabins and wended our way to the southern side of the rainforest, then headed into it. A tiny, steep, curved drive led up to the Phillips Family House. A sign said, “Bang Gong for Service.” The gong was a large, rusty, circular saw blade which WW duly banged.

WW following written instructions

A slender man appeared and introduced himself as Robin. He provided bedding and two electric lights. He said the cabin had a bed, some cups, a couple of knives, and a toilet. At this last, I felt much relieved. The guidebook says: “…there aren’t any amenities to speak of (other than fresh air, great views and absolute silence, save for rainforest noises).”

Robin told us the cabin was about a quarter mile away and 300 feet up. Then he led us to the trail head and marched up ahead of us, providing a running commentary on the flora and bird life. Originally from Massachusetts, he had always wanted to grow tropical fruit. He’d tried in Florida, but frost was a problem, so he moved to PR about 25 years ago. He pointed out his starfruit, breadfruit, mangos, bananas, plantains, and something called (I think) custard fruit that tastes like pumpkin cheesecake. We browsed on a clump of delicious local raspberries, with much finer seed segments than our big fat guys. We heard a loud squawking and Robin said it was a Puerto Rican lizard cuckoo which feeds by stabbing anole lizards with its long and pointy bill.

Roughing it in the Phillips Family Cabin in El Yunque

The cabin (and where the name Cabins comes from, I dunno) was a plywood room with a plywood porch mounted on a concrete base which housed a 2,000-gallon tank for collecting rainwater. This was connected to the outdoor tap and the outdoor toilet, which flushed down into a septic field. The toilet could only be flushed about once an hour as it took that long for its cistern to refill. Robin told us, if we found a frog in the loo, we were to flush it…it would be fine. It would just emerge from the septic field, none the worse for its experience.

The view from the balcony...our outdoor facilities.
Sans frog in this photo.

Robin made the bed and told us about the coquí. The bright green tree frog is much beloved on PR. It is a vociferous little bugger, with an output of 90 decibels. These were to be our neighbours overnight. “…absolute silence, save for rain forest noises…” Hah. And we aren’t talking two or three. If not hundreds, then many dozens. We ate our sandwiches, nibbled some cheese, drank a spot of vino, and headed to our frog-loud bed. It was incredible. I awoke from time to time, and would be almost instantly lulled to sleep by the splendid frog opera being sung a cappella all around. Occasionally, a moist “plop” would rouse me, and a soloist would lift his voice from our porch. As dawn came, the frogs dropped out of the chorus one by one, and feral roosters took up the theme, accompanied by a rich variety of bird song. Little anole lizards darted about. A green-throated carib hummingbird came to inspect us.