Cebus imitator
Drawn from open occurrence records in and around Manuel Antonio, aggregated onto a 10 km grid. A cell is matched by its centre, which can sit up to 16 km outside the boundary, so this covers the surrounding country too.
Occurrence records measure where people looked and found something, which is not the same as where the animal is. This is a relative likelihood, not a probability.
Records exist for January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November and December, with the widest coverage in February and March. A quiet month can mean the animal was absent, or that nobody was looking.
A grid cell is a square of the map, not a sighting: 16 squares of 10 km carry records for White-faced Capuchin in and around Manuel Antonio, and the 187 records behind them were collected by other people and published openly. Nothing here counts animals, and a place with more records is not always a place with more animals.
The white-faced capuchin is the rainforest's problem-solver, a three-kilogram primate with a prefrontal agenda. Troops of ten to thirty sweep through Costa Rican forest like an audit, turning leaves, cracking branches, unrolling bark, testing everything with hands that are nearly as clever as the brain behind them. Capuchins use tools, rub themselves with citrus and pepper plants as insect repellent, and maintain politics complicated enough that primatologists build careers on single troops. They live long, sometimes past 40, and they remember. In parks like Manuel Antonio they have also learned that tourists mean bags, and bags mean food, a lesson that took them approximately one afternoon.
Zip the bag, hide the food, and never trade snacks for photos. A raiding capuchin is a bitten tourist and eventually a destroyed monkey.