Dan Nicholson, SB Volunteer July/Aug 2025
Tucked deep in the heart of the Bolivian Amazon, Sustainable Bolivia sits quietly on the edge of an oxbow lake—a crescent of still water teeming with life. I spent a month here as a photographer and drone videographer, documenting the forest and the creatures that call it home.
Sustainable Bolivia from the air. Taken using my drown while flying above the San Jose Lagoon, you can see Sustainable Bolivia nestled amongst the forest.
Each morning began with the electric hum of hummingbirds and the raucous calls of horned screamers. In the clear skies of the dry season lake itself was a mirror, broken only by the slow glide of Richard—Sustainable Bolivia’s own resident black caiman. He often lingered near the dock, a silent guardian of the water’s edge.
My lens captured more than just birds. Tarantulas emerged from their burrows at dusk, frogs chorused from the reeds, and insects of every imaginable shape and colour danced through the air. There was even a huge nest of communal spiders, which is not to everyone’s taste but I was very happy to have found it. The biodiversity was staggering, and this was just the dry season, I can only imagine what the wet season will bring.
One of the highlights was the huge troop of resident squirrel monkeys that would swing through the canopy right over the top of the cabins and kitchen. They unfortunately rarely hung around long enough for me to get the pictures I truly wanted. They would briefly pause for a second or two to peer at me before tearing off through the branches. Their presence
added a layer of playful unpredictability to the forest, and watching them interact felt like glimpsing a secret society in motion.
Richard, the resident, and very large, Black Caiman (Melanosuchus niger) who would periodically visit the dock.
For a change of pace, me and my fellow volunteers would venture into the bustling city of Riberalta. It was a sensory
shift—bright lights, motorbikes weaving through traffic, and the unmistakable pulse of nightlife. I found myself enjoying the local markets and the ransom fruits and foods they sold as well as spending my evenings belting out karaoke in a packed local bar, who’s signature drink was Amarula of all things. The city offered a different kind of wild—one of human energy.
Evenings back at the lodge were a quiet ritual. As the sun dipped below the treeline, the lake would glow gold, casting long shadows across the dock where Richard sometimes lingered. I’d sit with my camera, watching the light fade and the forest hush, grateful for the stillness and that it was mosquito free until exactly 6.30pm.
The dock at Sustainable Bolivia, where I would regularly spend my evenings just enjoying the view.
Sustainable Bolivia was also a fantastic place to fuel my iNaturalist obsession. With every new species sighting—be it a
cryptic insect or a flamboyant bird—I found myself reaching for my phone, eager to log, identify, and fuel my addiction. I was particularly excited to find a blind snake one of the handful of observations from Bolivia.
During my stay, I also had the chance to set up a few transects for long-term sampling—hopefully a small contribution
to the lodge’s ongoing ecological monitoring. I really admire what they are trying to achieve at Sustainable Bolivia: a
blend of conservation, education, and community engagement that feels both ambitious and grounded. I wish them
every success as they continue building something truly special.