How to See Tapirs in Belize – and Help Protect Them While You’re There
It’s no coincidence that rural Belize is tapir central. Besides being the country’s “fastest growing rural population,” the Belize District spans a landscape of savanna to the north, tropical forest to the west, and lush marshlands and lagoons to the south. It’s also where the best little zoo in the world first (unofficially) emerged in 1983 with Sharon Matola—a biologist, environmentalist, and zookeeper, who established inklings that later evolved into The Belize Zoo (TBZ). Sitting on over 1,100 acres of land with the Tropical Education Center, it’s now home to more than 125 individual native, rehabilitated animals—including a handful of Belize’s national animal, the Central American Tapir!
Earlier this year, baby Grace—a blithe watermelon on odd-toed legs—captured the hearts of every Belizean (and visitor to the Zoo!) with her toothy, clumsy grin that’s irresistible to smile back at. The (estimated) one-week-old calf was brought in for rehabilitation after Cayo’s wildfires separated mum from baby in La Gracia village in March of this year; bittersweetly, it was also an opportunity to reignite tapir conservation and the threats they face.
As did the establishment of the Sharon Matola Wildlife Sanctuary in 2022: TBZ absorbed a deed first gifted to the people of Belize back in 1988 for research, compounding an additional 1,725 acres of land for conservation stewardship in honor of the Zoo’s founder—and a trailblazer for wildlife conservation in Belize. Today, it’s uncertain how much the cuddly creatures are estimated to generate in BZD annually, but they inadvertently contribute to more than 25,000 tourism industry jobs.
Where To See Tapirs in Belize
Sure, the new $20 bills circulating have the tapir on them, and your best, guaranteed bet to get close enough is indeed the zoo. Still, Belize is one of the few (fortunate) countries you’ll find these paunchy, almost prehistoric creatures countrywide, who can roam from sea level to almost 3,000 meters in their entire geographic range. Research shows tapirs love to be near bodies of water, whether it’s for biological or defensive reasons, and the further away from roads? The better. But these slower-moving mammals can’t adapt fast enough to a changing climate, and droughts are impacting them more than conservationists are comfortable with; luckily, Belize still has an abundance of freshwater, with about 60% of the country still forested, but that’s not something to take for granted.
It does, however, mean there’s not one district to go to that won’t have tapirs (or signs of tapirs) present—whether your eco-adventures take you past sugarcane fields to Lamanai Maya Site or river tubing in Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary, or cold plunging at St. Herman’s Blue Hole National Park. In fact, Dr. Celso Poot, Managing Director of The Belize Zoo and founder of the Belize Tapir Project, saw his very first one 33 years ago in northern Belize’s Rio Bravo Conservation & Management Area. “Their resilience and adaptability allow them to find refuge in regions where active conservation—and the respect of local communities—prevail. It’s why I started the project in 2008 when I first noticed an increase in tapir collisions.”
Meet The Belize Tapir Project-and How To Support It
Today, habitat loss, forest fragmentation, and lethal road collisions are the biggest threats tapirs face in Belize. It’s a problem that began with colonization—when tapirs were poached for their meat, forests were felled for timber, and lands were cleared to accommodate exports—but post-independence, hope isn’t lost.
Thanks to research, biodiversity monitoring, and advocacy through catalysts like the Belize Tapir Project—using trail cameras, transects, and more—we know more about where tapirs go and why, to help decision makers make well-informed decisions on mitigating these road collision hotspots. The wildlife crossing markers and speed bumps you see along the way, like those on the John Smith Road or newly paved Coastal Plain Highway, are an exciting and effective reminder of what remains just beyond the swathe of rainforests that hug Belize’s highways—but they’re an important protective measure too. As a traveler, you’re respecting our roads and speed laws for the safety of yourself and our wildlife, including Belize’s national animal.
After all, every tapir saved counts: a single calf spends a leisurely 13 months in its mother’s womb, then sticks with them up until two years old, and won’t reach sexual maturity for another year or two after that. And as the largest herbivorous animal in Belize’s wilds, removing one would have catastrophic and cascading trickle-down effects, from drought resistance to seed dispersal. Classed Endangered by IUCN, tapirs are an “umbrella species,” Poot says — protecting them indirectly safeguards the entire ecosystem. “If a habitat is healthy enough to allow a tapir to thrive, then other species can also live in that same habitat.” It’s why he and countless others are fighting so hard to save tapirs—work that’s made possible by wildlife rehabilitation centers like the not-for-profit Belize Zoo, and the visitors who come to marvel at one of the country’s most beloved creatures—including Grace.
Baby Grace’s Impact
“Because she was hand-reared from young, she’s very fond of guests.” The opportunity to rub shoulders with tapirs like Grace up close is one of the perks of staying at the Tropical Education Center, where self-guided “sneak peeks” of the Sharon Matola Wildlife Sanctuary via trails and canoe rides are included with every stay, barely a two-minute drive from the zoo. Since the 1980s, the Zoo has been protecting lands in the central Belize corridor—now known as the Maya Forest Corridor—that are critical to the survival of species like jaguars, tapirs, and even the white-lipped peccary. With just under 8,000 acres, it’s also impressively one of the last remaining tracts of land still protected on either side of the road: drive with extra caution between miles 26 and 29. “Because one of the tenets of the mission of the zoo is to protect and conserve wildlife and their habitat in Belize, the zoo started landscape conservation long before the Maya Forest Corridor project was even a concept,” Celso says.
Be A Citizen Scientist
Belize might be a stronghold for the Central American Tapir, but the onus is on each of us to self-enforce speeding laws; it’s hard to dodge anything at speeds over 85 mph in a 60 mph zone. Slow down in areas where wildlife is known to move, especially at night. In the event of any unfortunate wildlife collision, report it directly on TBZ’s progressive web app (no account required) on roadkill.bz, helping to map conflict hotspots across the country beyond their research area. And while safe crossing structures might be part of the long-term vision as development advances across the country, supporting voices like the Belize Tapir Project help their advocacy for wildlife resonate louder. With education so critical to wildlife conservation, you can help support either—including the 501(c)(3) verified Belize Zoo—by simply showing up to learn through rescue, research, and habitat protection. Lastly, if you have the chance, pencil in a protected area during your visit: protecting tapirs means protecting our forest, and our future—in any order.
