El Corchito Reserva Ecologica

A confession: thus far, I have been disappointed in the Mexican idea of an ecological reserve, spoiled as I am by Ohio's Metroparks that go on for hundreds of acres. The few reserves I have seen here have been small and consist of paths winding past a few labeled trees--a good place to start in urban or urbanizing areas, but not my idea of any sort of intact ecosystem. Still, anything that encourages the preservation of vegetation and wildlife in an area where many people are still poor is a good idea, and allowing local people to profit from preservation is an even better idea.

El Corchito, a reserve just outside Progreso, was founded by a group of local fishermen getting old enough to look for an easier way of earning a living. While I am not sure what kind of profit they are making, they have created a delightful place to spend a few hours.

Visitors to the reserve pull into a small parking lot off the coast highway. The visitors' center hosts picnic tables, a café, decent restrooms, a small gift shop, and a viewing tower (currently closed for repairs) above the lagoon. For 35 pesos (less than two dollars), visitors enjoy a short boat ride across the lagoon into the heart of a mangrove forest.

Mangroves, for anyone unfamiliar with them, are small trees adapted to waterlogged soils and salty water that would kill less stubborn plants. One of their adaptations is an aerial root system that allows the intake of oxygen directly from the air; 

another is the ability to secrete salt. Interesting as they are in their own right, mangroves protect coasts from storm surges and create habitat for a variety of other life forms, many commercially and environmentally important species spawning among those tangled roots. Mangrove forests (just called "swamps" when I was a girl) are now theoretically protected in most places, although many are lost to development each year.

Most people, of course, are not going to hand over their hard-earned pesos just to go look at scrubby little trees and smell the swamp. The proprietors of El Corchito have created paths and bridges leading through the mangroves to three cenotes, the limestone pools that define the geology of the Yucatan peninsula. These three range in depth from three to about nine feet and are popular places to swim, cool off,

or hunt, if one is a baby caiman interested in a generous supply of small fish.

Reptiles are not the only wildlife present in the park. This young brown pelican was hanging out near the hammock vendor, no doubt hoping for a handout.

And while there are arguments to be made against feeding wildlife, the workers at El Corchito have encouraged gaggles of raccoons and coatimundis, to the delight of visitors of all ages. Snack time is quite the show.

One could supplement one's income in worse ways than by tossing kibble at coatimundis.