Tears slid down the dark skin of Charlie’s face. The day of the funeral had come, and family and friends had gathered to commemorate the life of Charlie’s late wife, whose name they would not speak. She had lived her life well, passing on her culture to her children and grandchildren and keeping close to the land where her ancestors had lived for generations. Her people had seen the sea levels rise and fall along the coast of Australia, but despite the changes in environment, they had always maintained a respect and understanding of the land they inhabited.
Charlie had learned from her. He himself had lost some of his culture when his father was sent to the reserve on Palm Island. He regained cultural knowledge through his wife, and he did his best to raise his children so that they would be proud of their heritage and continue to pass it on.
His wife had died, but Charlie still had other family members to love. He sat, thinking about the years that had passed, though he had never been concerned with the time that flew by him. He watched two of his grandsons running around, laughing and shouting, unaware of the sadness in his heart.
People were milling about, talking in low voices, and filling their plates with the food that was spread across the table. Charlie’s nephews had gone hunting the day before and captured a dugong and two green sea turtles for the occasion. The feast was their gift to Charlie, and he appreciated their efforts. The turtles had been baked over hot coals in the ground, and they were served with fried pumpkin and bean sprouts.
As Charlie watched his two young grandsons heaping food on their plates, he thought about the Dreamtime story his wife had shared with him about the sea turtle, Charlie’s own totem.
In the Dreamtime, Budgial, the sea turtle, represented wisdom and love. He loved Gugu, the fish, and he spent his time with her. He brought her food to eat and watched the sun go down with her, sharing pleasant conversation, and holding her when the night arrived and she became cold.
One day, many of the other animals were making fun of Gugu because she lived in the water and could not come onto the land. She asked Budgial to defend her, but when Budgial went to do so, he became friends with the others, and Gugu was upset. She cried and cried in the water that night, and Gunual, the goanna, asked her what was wrong. She explained to Gunual why she was upset with Budgial, so Gunual went to the others and beat them for making fun of Gugu.
Gunual represented strength, power, and greed. He told Gugu about his strength and power, and he explained what he had done to the others. She was glad that Gunual had defended her, so Gugu spent the night with him. Gunual brought her more food than she needed to show her what a wonderful hunter he was, but he would not love her the way Budgial had.
Gugu began to miss Budgial, and Gunual knew. As Gunual began to prepare a spear, Gugu swam away to find Budgial. She told him that Gunual was going to come kill him, but Budgial was brave. He held Gugu and told her everything would be alright.
When Gunual arrived at the scene and saw Budgial holding Gugu, he became furious. He was prepared to kill Budgial for taking Gugu away from him, but Budgial held up two shields, one against his front and one against his back, and jumped into the water. The shields protected Budgial, no matter how many spears Gunual threw at him.
Gunual couldn’t believe that he didn’t have the power to kill Budgial. He ran away from the water to live in the desert, where he remains. Gugu and Budgial maintained their love for each other, and they still live in the water together.
At a young age, Charlie was given the totem of Budgial, the sea turtle, because he had so much common sense and love for his friends and family. He would not eat the sea turtle at the funeral today, because no person can kill or eat his or her totem animal.
Charlie’s two grandsons were sitting on the floor at his feet, eating their meal of sea turtle meat and vegetables. His grandsons were half-caste; their mother, Charlie’s daughter, was Aboriginal, but their father was white. The two boys had light brown skin and soft, curly hair, and their eyes were wide as they looked down at the food on their plates. Their bellies were full, and they didn’t know how they would finish all of the food they had taken.
Charlie watched them contemplating their food, their hands on their bellies. “Did I ever tell you two the story of the Rainbow Serpent?” Charlie asked.
The two boys looked up and shook their heads. Charlie smiled, knowing that sharing a piece of his culture with his grandsons would make him feel better on this sad day. It is what his wife would have done.
“Long ago, in the Dreamtime, there were two young men who were heading down to the river to go fishing for that evening’s meal,” Charlie began. The two boys put their forks down and pushed their plates forward, looking up at their grandfather in interest.
“On their way to the river, the young men stopped to speak to an old man who was sitting beneath a tree. They noticed that the old man looked very weak. ‘We are going fishing,’ one of the young men said. ‘Would you like any fish for your dinner?’
“‘Yes, please,’ the old man said. ‘If you catch five fish for me, I can feed my whole family.’ The two young men agreed to help the old man and his family, and they continued on their walk to the river.
“When they got to the water, the men threw the bark of the Milky Pine into the river. This bark takes all of the oxygen out of the water, and eventually the fish will come to the surface of the water, searching for more oxygen to breathe. The barramundi, the black fin, and all of the other fish were soon floating at the top of the water.
“The two young men were very excited at the number of fish floating in the river, and they began to collect them in their dilly bags. But the Rainbow Serpent, who guarded the water hole, saw this happening and became very angry. The Rainbow Serpent protects the food chain and certifies that it is balanced. He makes sure that nobody takes more than they need and that nobody goes hungry. When he saw the two young men taking many more fish than they needed to feed themselves, he swam through tunnels beneath the ground and waited below the water.
“As the two young men continued to fill their dilly bags with the dead fish, the Rainbow Serpent sprang up from beneath the water and swallowed them whole. With his protruding belly, the Rainbow Serpent swam back down to the underground tunnels.
“The old man, still sitting beneath the tree, heard a large splash, and ran down to the river. He saw all the dead fish lying about and the dilly bags of the young men lying on the shore. The two young men were nowhere to be seen. The old man knew what had happened. He began to dance and shout, stomping holes in the ground. Eventually, the old man fell into the underground tunnel, where he found the Rainbow Serpent. He stabbed the large serpent in the tail, and the Rainbow Serpent screamed and spat the two young men out.
“The old man cleaned off the two young men and brought them back to the river banks. The young men were embarrassed for taking so much and for needing the old man to come and save them. They learned their lesson, to never take more than they needed.”
Charlie finished the Dreamtime story and watched his grandsons. They looked guiltily at the full plates that they could not finish.
“Sea turtle is a very special food,” Charlie explained. “We only eat it at special occasions. It is not to be wasted.”
The two grandsons nodded. They understood. Charlie looked into their blue eyes and was happy that he had the opportunity to share his knowledge of his culture with them. He hoped that the two boys would retain their culture in their changing world.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Story One: Chelonia mydas
It is late November, and the rising full moon can be seen in the day-lit sky. A newly matured green sea turtle is swimming through the shallow ocean waters off the coast of the beach where she was born. She has not returned to this site since she and her siblings dug their way up through the warm sand of the nest their mother dug for them. The last time she touched land, the hatchling and her siblings had scurried upwards out of the nest, towards the surface, breathing between the sand grains. They reached the surface of the nest with a burst of energy, as a coordinated group, but they dispersed as they clambered toward the surf. It was the last time she saw many of her siblings, as stragglers were taken by beach-dwelling crabs, popping up from their holes to capture the struggling hatchlings by the moonlight. Others were captured by shore-birds, night herons hiding still in the night, long legs poised to run toward their prey at the opportune moment.
Most of the hatchlings made it into the ocean. As soon as they reached the salty water, they swam, frenzied, past the breakers. They put every ounce of their energy into swimming that first night. Fish, small sharks, and cuttlefish took some of the hatchlings for their own meals, but the rest kept swimming. Separated, they swam for days. The residual yolk in their bodies supplied enough energy for them to continue swimming without feeding for several days, and they used this energy until they reached the currents that carried them to the deep, open ocean.
The green turtle hatchling drifted with the ocean currents, eating plankton near the surface of the water, and slowly growing. Her carapace grew from five centimeters to forty centimeters during her life in the open ocean, and when she was large enough to return to shallower waters without risking predation, she swam toward the sea-grass pastures. Here, she continued feeding for many years. As a youth, she was not selective in her diet, feeding on sponges, jellyfish, macroalgae, and even cigarette butts washed out to sea, floating on the surface of the water. But as she grew and matured, she recognized the strength and energy that feeding on the sea-grass beds provided her. With her serrated beak, she could easily seize and break off pieces of sea-grass. She thrived in large sea-grass meadows, where green sea-grass, brown at the tips, covered the shallow banks and sand-bottom channels of the coastal waters. She continued to supplement her diet with small amounts of macroalgae, and her herbivorous meals created the green body fat she is named for.
Now, she is nearly forty years old. After feeding and growing for so many years, she is ready to breed. She migrated hundreds of kilometers from her feeding grounds to the area of the nesting beach where she was born. There, she mated with several male turtles who had also migrated to the breeding grounds. The males, with claws at the tips of their flippers, held on to the female’s carapace as they mated.
Though it is several weeks after her first mating, she still carries the claw marks of the males on her shell. She made her first journey to the beach nearly two weeks ago. After dark, she swam to shore and lumbered up the gradient of the beach. She used her front flippers to drag her body over the sand. With her fore and rear flippers, she excavated her first nest area, and with her rear flippers, she dug her first egg chamber, alternately scooping the sand. When it was deep enough, she laid over one hundred small, round eggs, leathery and white against the tawny sand. She used her rear flippers again to fill and cover the egg chamber. As she laid her eggs, glands near her eyes formed tears, excreting the excess salt from the seawater she drank. Though these tears are constantly sliding down her face, they are most noticeable now that she has left the ocean for the land. She blinked, letting the tears go, turned, and followed the moonlight back to the dark sea.
If the turtle has concealed her nest sufficiently, it will protect the eggs from feral pigs and dogs that come to the beach for a late night snack. After eight weeks, the turtles inside the eggs will begin to pip, breaking their eggshells by rubbing an egg tooth on the tip of their noses against the shells. Each hatchling will pip within a few hours of each another, and they will stay within their broken eggshells for several days as their soft bodies uncurl. Once they have straightened, they will emerge from their nest, the same way their mother did so many years ago. They will race to the ocean, the darkness of their shells protecting their bodies in the dangerous night. Once in the water, their white undersides will protect them from predators below, looking toward the sky for the silhouettes of prey.
Now, the green sea turtle swims through the sea water, parallel to her nesting beach. After the sun goes down, when the moon is bright in the dark sky, she will make her way to the silent beach. She will trudge to the perfect nesting spot and dig an egg chamber, and she will quietly lay her second clutch of eggs. She will have nothing to do with her eggs once they have been laid; she will never see her offspring emerge from the nest or make their way to the ocean. Not all of them will survive. Most will make it safely to the sea, and some of the lucky ones will survive attacks by sharks and other marine predators. The ones that survive and make it to the open ocean will carefully grow over many years, feeding on algae and sea grasses like their mother did. Some will make it to breeding age, joining in the ancient cycle of reproduction, populating the oceans with these prehistoric reptiles that have survived for over one hundred million years.
The turtle glides through the water. Her rear flippers are broad rudders; her toe bones are long, and flexible enough to steer her through the ocean. With her front flippers, she paddles swiftly, moving them upward and backward, then forward and downward, flying through the ocean like a bird on wings. She makes her way to the surface every few minutes, exhaling her breath in a noisy rush above the water and breathing in the salty air, absorbing enough oxygen for her next dive below the water.
With her domed, light shell, stream-lined to maximize buoyancy and agility in the water, she is made for the sea. Her shell is olive green and brown, with darkly mottled splotches, and her eyes are wide, pensive and still. She dives deep in the water, feeding along the bottom, and slowly slopes to the surface. Her ascent is passive and graceful. She is completely unaware of the low-frequency sound of a boat motor approaching.
Her head breaks the surface as the water around her churns and the whirring smack of the propeller slices through her front flipper and crashes into her shell. She gasps the air for broken breath, but is too shocked by impact to see the foreign object speeding away in the sunny afternoon. The stillness of the water has disappeared, and in its place, the sea turtle bobs along the surface of the water. She floats, her flipper hanging limply at her side, not completely separated, but useless. The shock and pain of the accident has blinded the turtle of her earlier purpose, and she can do nothing but move slowly through the water, using the strength of only one flipper to paddle to a comfortable place.
Most of the hatchlings made it into the ocean. As soon as they reached the salty water, they swam, frenzied, past the breakers. They put every ounce of their energy into swimming that first night. Fish, small sharks, and cuttlefish took some of the hatchlings for their own meals, but the rest kept swimming. Separated, they swam for days. The residual yolk in their bodies supplied enough energy for them to continue swimming without feeding for several days, and they used this energy until they reached the currents that carried them to the deep, open ocean.
The green turtle hatchling drifted with the ocean currents, eating plankton near the surface of the water, and slowly growing. Her carapace grew from five centimeters to forty centimeters during her life in the open ocean, and when she was large enough to return to shallower waters without risking predation, she swam toward the sea-grass pastures. Here, she continued feeding for many years. As a youth, she was not selective in her diet, feeding on sponges, jellyfish, macroalgae, and even cigarette butts washed out to sea, floating on the surface of the water. But as she grew and matured, she recognized the strength and energy that feeding on the sea-grass beds provided her. With her serrated beak, she could easily seize and break off pieces of sea-grass. She thrived in large sea-grass meadows, where green sea-grass, brown at the tips, covered the shallow banks and sand-bottom channels of the coastal waters. She continued to supplement her diet with small amounts of macroalgae, and her herbivorous meals created the green body fat she is named for.
Now, she is nearly forty years old. After feeding and growing for so many years, she is ready to breed. She migrated hundreds of kilometers from her feeding grounds to the area of the nesting beach where she was born. There, she mated with several male turtles who had also migrated to the breeding grounds. The males, with claws at the tips of their flippers, held on to the female’s carapace as they mated.
Though it is several weeks after her first mating, she still carries the claw marks of the males on her shell. She made her first journey to the beach nearly two weeks ago. After dark, she swam to shore and lumbered up the gradient of the beach. She used her front flippers to drag her body over the sand. With her fore and rear flippers, she excavated her first nest area, and with her rear flippers, she dug her first egg chamber, alternately scooping the sand. When it was deep enough, she laid over one hundred small, round eggs, leathery and white against the tawny sand. She used her rear flippers again to fill and cover the egg chamber. As she laid her eggs, glands near her eyes formed tears, excreting the excess salt from the seawater she drank. Though these tears are constantly sliding down her face, they are most noticeable now that she has left the ocean for the land. She blinked, letting the tears go, turned, and followed the moonlight back to the dark sea.
If the turtle has concealed her nest sufficiently, it will protect the eggs from feral pigs and dogs that come to the beach for a late night snack. After eight weeks, the turtles inside the eggs will begin to pip, breaking their eggshells by rubbing an egg tooth on the tip of their noses against the shells. Each hatchling will pip within a few hours of each another, and they will stay within their broken eggshells for several days as their soft bodies uncurl. Once they have straightened, they will emerge from their nest, the same way their mother did so many years ago. They will race to the ocean, the darkness of their shells protecting their bodies in the dangerous night. Once in the water, their white undersides will protect them from predators below, looking toward the sky for the silhouettes of prey.
Now, the green sea turtle swims through the sea water, parallel to her nesting beach. After the sun goes down, when the moon is bright in the dark sky, she will make her way to the silent beach. She will trudge to the perfect nesting spot and dig an egg chamber, and she will quietly lay her second clutch of eggs. She will have nothing to do with her eggs once they have been laid; she will never see her offspring emerge from the nest or make their way to the ocean. Not all of them will survive. Most will make it safely to the sea, and some of the lucky ones will survive attacks by sharks and other marine predators. The ones that survive and make it to the open ocean will carefully grow over many years, feeding on algae and sea grasses like their mother did. Some will make it to breeding age, joining in the ancient cycle of reproduction, populating the oceans with these prehistoric reptiles that have survived for over one hundred million years.
The turtle glides through the water. Her rear flippers are broad rudders; her toe bones are long, and flexible enough to steer her through the ocean. With her front flippers, she paddles swiftly, moving them upward and backward, then forward and downward, flying through the ocean like a bird on wings. She makes her way to the surface every few minutes, exhaling her breath in a noisy rush above the water and breathing in the salty air, absorbing enough oxygen for her next dive below the water.
With her domed, light shell, stream-lined to maximize buoyancy and agility in the water, she is made for the sea. Her shell is olive green and brown, with darkly mottled splotches, and her eyes are wide, pensive and still. She dives deep in the water, feeding along the bottom, and slowly slopes to the surface. Her ascent is passive and graceful. She is completely unaware of the low-frequency sound of a boat motor approaching.
Her head breaks the surface as the water around her churns and the whirring smack of the propeller slices through her front flipper and crashes into her shell. She gasps the air for broken breath, but is too shocked by impact to see the foreign object speeding away in the sunny afternoon. The stillness of the water has disappeared, and in its place, the sea turtle bobs along the surface of the water. She floats, her flipper hanging limply at her side, not completely separated, but useless. The shock and pain of the accident has blinded the turtle of her earlier purpose, and she can do nothing but move slowly through the water, using the strength of only one flipper to paddle to a comfortable place.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Townsville
Townsville is a small town. We’ve only been here for about two weeks and we probably know everybody. Examples: On our way to Townsville, we met Sam on the bus. We ran into him several times without planning to meet up. Once, Sam and I were walking to the beach. On the way, he introduced me to his friend Jake, and we kept walking. On our way back, we found Jake and Geneveve hanging out together. Another time I met a man named Will, who dives regularly. I wanted to interview him for my sea turtle project, so we exchanged numbers. The next day, Geneveve saw him, and he said he was looking forward to the interview. His phone was off for the next three days, so I couldn’t get in touch with him. But then, Geneveve and I were having dinner with Russell (from our camping trip), and Will walks by with his family. Will and I started talking to each other, but Will’s parents started chatting with Russ, because Will’s father gulfs with Russ. Last story: Geneveve and I went to the aquarium. We were talking to the director, Fred, but he had to go because he had to meet with another man. I met this same man, Anthony, at a bar about a week later. But it wasn’t until our third meeting, when we randomly crossed paths on the street, that we realized we had seen each other before, at the aquarium. It’s a small town.
Geneveve and I left Cairns for Townsville on April 5th, the first day of ISP. We took a Greyhound bus. It was a six hour bus ride, but we were entertained with books to read and a movie to watch – “Angus, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging.” (Who remembers that book!? (The book actually refers to “Full-frontal” snogging.)) We met Sam on the bus, and he helped Geneveve and I carry our obscene amount of luggage, get a taxi, and find our hostel. After settling into the Globetrotters Hostel (where we stayed for two nights before moving to the Reef Lodge), we met up with Sam for a drink. We soon found out that the main part of Townsville is just one street. Flinders Street has several bars, the “mall” (which includes free wi-fi at McDonald’s), and, well, that’s about it. Parallel to Flinders Street is the Strand. There’s a great view of the ocean, looking out toward Magnetic Island, and there is a beach with two stinger nets to swim in. There’s also an Olympic-size pool for me to swim in; a pier, with a kiosk that has great “chips” (French fries); another pool, sort of like the lagoon at Cairns; a walking track; and some nice shady, grassy spots to sit down and read a book.
I came to Townsville to work on my Independent Study Project. I am doing a research project on green sea turtles. My project involves academic research of the species and interviews with people who have had interactions with turtles: researchers, students, divers, snorkelers, indigenous hunters, tourists, volunteers, aquarium staff, and fishermen. As I collect data from these interviews, I am composing several short stories (which I will probably post in my blog). The stories are going to examine the factors affecting sea turtle endangerment, human interactions and perceptions of sea turtles, and conservation goals. In addition to my short stories, I need to also write a short paper that is more science based. This paper will explore how stories can be used as an educational tool for the non-scientific community; it will also go through my methods of interviewing people, my results, and what it all means. I’m enjoying working on the project. It got off to a slow start, but now that there are only two weeks left in ISP, it is picking up!
When I am not working on my turtle research, I spend a lot of time at the Strand or swimming. It is nice to finally have time to exercise again. I even bought a pair of sneakers to run, which may have been a terrible idea. (I went for my first run last night, and I am definitely feeling it today.)
Geneveve and I have done some more exploring in Townsville when were not doing our research. We’ve hiked up Castle Hill, a great hike up a red-rock mountain right in the center of town. We also went to Magnetic Island for a weekend. We didn’t see any koalas on the island, as we had hoped (there are about 200 living there,) but we did have a great time going to the beach, hiking, and snorkeling. We stayed at a campground with a free tent I obtained in Cairns. We were a three minute walk to the beach at Horseshoe Bay, and we also hiked about an hour to Florence Bay, where we snorkeled. The snorkeling was a little bit disappointing and heart-breaking after snorkeling at Lizard Island. The corals there are almost completely bleached and covered in algae. It was really sad to see, but also eye-opening. If I could, I would show every person in the world the Great Barrier Reef. It makes the threats of climate change SO much more apparent. I wish there were a way to make everybody understand, even though not everyone will be as lucky as I am and have the chance to see this place. Despite the bleaching on this reef, we did see several reef fish, and an eel. We spent two nights on “Maggie” and headed back early Monday morning on the ferry to get back to our research.
The next two weeks should be pretty quiet as I finish up my project. I should head back to Cairns around May 3rd to finish writing my paper. Our papers and presentations are due May 9th, and our program ends May 14th. At that point, I will be traveling down the coast with Eva, Steve, Kelly, and Lauren. Then, I’ll be home! I started to get a little bit homesick the past few days, but I know the rest of my time here will speed by, so I will have to be sure to enjoy every second, despite all the paper-writing that needs to be done.
Stay tuned for turtle tales!
Geneveve and I left Cairns for Townsville on April 5th, the first day of ISP. We took a Greyhound bus. It was a six hour bus ride, but we were entertained with books to read and a movie to watch – “Angus, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging.” (Who remembers that book!? (The book actually refers to “Full-frontal” snogging.)) We met Sam on the bus, and he helped Geneveve and I carry our obscene amount of luggage, get a taxi, and find our hostel. After settling into the Globetrotters Hostel (where we stayed for two nights before moving to the Reef Lodge), we met up with Sam for a drink. We soon found out that the main part of Townsville is just one street. Flinders Street has several bars, the “mall” (which includes free wi-fi at McDonald’s), and, well, that’s about it. Parallel to Flinders Street is the Strand. There’s a great view of the ocean, looking out toward Magnetic Island, and there is a beach with two stinger nets to swim in. There’s also an Olympic-size pool for me to swim in; a pier, with a kiosk that has great “chips” (French fries); another pool, sort of like the lagoon at Cairns; a walking track; and some nice shady, grassy spots to sit down and read a book.
I came to Townsville to work on my Independent Study Project. I am doing a research project on green sea turtles. My project involves academic research of the species and interviews with people who have had interactions with turtles: researchers, students, divers, snorkelers, indigenous hunters, tourists, volunteers, aquarium staff, and fishermen. As I collect data from these interviews, I am composing several short stories (which I will probably post in my blog). The stories are going to examine the factors affecting sea turtle endangerment, human interactions and perceptions of sea turtles, and conservation goals. In addition to my short stories, I need to also write a short paper that is more science based. This paper will explore how stories can be used as an educational tool for the non-scientific community; it will also go through my methods of interviewing people, my results, and what it all means. I’m enjoying working on the project. It got off to a slow start, but now that there are only two weeks left in ISP, it is picking up!
When I am not working on my turtle research, I spend a lot of time at the Strand or swimming. It is nice to finally have time to exercise again. I even bought a pair of sneakers to run, which may have been a terrible idea. (I went for my first run last night, and I am definitely feeling it today.)
Geneveve and I have done some more exploring in Townsville when were not doing our research. We’ve hiked up Castle Hill, a great hike up a red-rock mountain right in the center of town. We also went to Magnetic Island for a weekend. We didn’t see any koalas on the island, as we had hoped (there are about 200 living there,) but we did have a great time going to the beach, hiking, and snorkeling. We stayed at a campground with a free tent I obtained in Cairns. We were a three minute walk to the beach at Horseshoe Bay, and we also hiked about an hour to Florence Bay, where we snorkeled. The snorkeling was a little bit disappointing and heart-breaking after snorkeling at Lizard Island. The corals there are almost completely bleached and covered in algae. It was really sad to see, but also eye-opening. If I could, I would show every person in the world the Great Barrier Reef. It makes the threats of climate change SO much more apparent. I wish there were a way to make everybody understand, even though not everyone will be as lucky as I am and have the chance to see this place. Despite the bleaching on this reef, we did see several reef fish, and an eel. We spent two nights on “Maggie” and headed back early Monday morning on the ferry to get back to our research.
The next two weeks should be pretty quiet as I finish up my project. I should head back to Cairns around May 3rd to finish writing my paper. Our papers and presentations are due May 9th, and our program ends May 14th. At that point, I will be traveling down the coast with Eva, Steve, Kelly, and Lauren. Then, I’ll be home! I started to get a little bit homesick the past few days, but I know the rest of my time here will speed by, so I will have to be sure to enjoy every second, despite all the paper-writing that needs to be done.
Stay tuned for turtle tales!
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Lizard, Part Two.
The much-awaited-next-blog-entry! Sorry I haven’t been keeping up, but since I’d given you a taste of Lizard Island, I decided to postpone the blog entries until I got a few things organized! Right now I’m in Townsville, Australia, getting to work on my Independent Study Project on sea turtles.
But first, the rest of Lizard. The end of the trip was much the same as what I described in the previous blog entry. We got up every morning to snorkel. After Darren accidentally ran over a buoy with the large boat and broke the propeller, we had to take three smaller boats out to the various reefs. Every morning, we visited Watson’s Bay, where we collected data for our marine field project. We had to choose two fish species of the same family and observe their abundance among several transects along the reef for the first several days; then we did focal observations on those fish. We were to observe how similar fish species share resources or compete for them within reef ecosystems. Megan (my snorkel buddy) and I observed two species of rabbitfish: Foxface rabbitfish (Siganus vulpinus) and Blue spinefoot (Siganus puellus). The foxface rabbitfish are almost always found in pairs because they mate for life. We collected data on underwater paper, and we wore our stinger suits every day, of course. After our morning snorkel, (and after drying off by lying in the sun on the bottom of the boats), we would go back to the research station for morning tea (bikkies with Nutella and lots of cordial), and then Darren would give us our morning lecture. Darren is currently doing his Ph.D. on how coral bleaching affects reef fish communities.
After morning lecture, we’d have lunch. This was the first time we almost always had left-overs for lunch, which was really a relief, because every day on the rainforest and camping trips we had the same sandwiches. These sandwiches were still an option, of course, but it was very refreshing to have something new to eat. (By new, of course, I mean old, because they were left-overs.) After lunch, we had about two hours to lie in the sun on the beach. It was the most relaxing part of the day, except for the sand flies. We’d meet back on the beach again each afternoon for our second snorkel of the day. These snorkels were more relaxing, because we didn’t need to do any data collection. We were able to explore much more, because we weren’t focused on a single species. We went to reefs along the lagoon, Horseshoe Reef, Clam Gardens, and Mermaid Lagoon. At some places, like Clam Gardens, we could swim to the beach when we finished our snorkel and relax there before we headed back to the station.
We had the rest of the day free to do research on our fish species, work in our Natural History Field Notebooks, and of course, to watch the sunset. I watched them religiously. It was just like at New College, when I would walk down to the bay every evening and spend an hour or more watching the sun go down and the sky change colors. Some of the nights we had barbecues on the beach beneath the stars. We went swimming in the ocean a few times without stinger suits; the water was the perfect temperature.
We saw many more sharks after our first encounter: most were black-tip reef sharks, but we also saw white-tip reef sharks and a tawny nurse shark, which was at least twice the size of me and swam directly beneath us. I saw four green sea turtles. The last one that I saw was just eating some sea grass near the shore. She just sat there eating and didn’t seem to be scared of me at all, even when I touched her shell. Angie and I ended up spending at least twenty minutes with her. We pet her head and held her flippers, and she even ate some sea grass out of my hand! It was the coolest experience ever. We also saw several sting rays, two octopuses (octopi?), an eel, and of course hundreds of different reef fish and corals. There were giant clams that I would have fit inside. We would touch their lips and try to get them to shut, and when they did, they would expel a ton of debris which then would attract many fish to the spot to eat it. If you were swimming above one of the clams when it shut, you could feel a rush of air coming up as it closed. One of the spookiest things we saw were the skeletons of giant clams: just their enormous shells, vacant and covered with algae and corals.
On our last day at Lizard Island, we climbed to the top of Cook’s Look. It’s where James Cook climbed to try to find a way to get his ship past the reef. The top was also an Aboriginal ceremony site for male initiations. It was a great hike, and the view was spectacular. It was nice to be able to hike without worrying about leeches! There wasn’t too much wildlife on the actual island except for a few birds and the goannas. On our last day, we were cleaning out the kitchen and emptying food into the compost bin. We opened the bin to find out that a goanna had tunneled its way into the bottom of the bin! A few goannas kept stealing bananas and avacados, but they would just carry them out, realize they didn’t actually want to eat such things, and leave them lying in the bushes.
It was hard to leave Lizard, because the chances that we’d ever be back are very, very slim. It’s also sad to leave the Great Barrier Reef – because if I ever have the chance to come back down here, it’s quite possible that the reef won’t be there anymore. It’s predicted to be destroyed by 2050 due to climate change.
We were able to take a larger plane back to Cairns instead of three tiny planes. On the way back, we flew over the reef that Steve Irwin died on.
Back in Cairns, we had a day to write up our marine field papers. The rest of the week was spent doing work: our final essay, our ISP proposals, our exams, and our field notebooks. It was an exhausting week of work, and we also had to make our plans for ISP. It was strange to say goodbye to everyone in the group—we’d been together every day for two months, so it was a bit disconcerting to recognize the fact that we’d be apart for the rest of the semester until we meet back in Cairns at the end of ISP.
I’m actually not alone on ISP: Geneveve and I are both in Townsville, about four hours south of Cairns. I am studying sea turtles and Geneveve is studying sharks. It’s nice to be with someone else. Geneveve is also a vegetarian, so it makes cooking dinner fun and easy. We are staying at a backpacker’s hostel right in town. I will write more about Townsville and ISP soon!
But first, the rest of Lizard. The end of the trip was much the same as what I described in the previous blog entry. We got up every morning to snorkel. After Darren accidentally ran over a buoy with the large boat and broke the propeller, we had to take three smaller boats out to the various reefs. Every morning, we visited Watson’s Bay, where we collected data for our marine field project. We had to choose two fish species of the same family and observe their abundance among several transects along the reef for the first several days; then we did focal observations on those fish. We were to observe how similar fish species share resources or compete for them within reef ecosystems. Megan (my snorkel buddy) and I observed two species of rabbitfish: Foxface rabbitfish (Siganus vulpinus) and Blue spinefoot (Siganus puellus). The foxface rabbitfish are almost always found in pairs because they mate for life. We collected data on underwater paper, and we wore our stinger suits every day, of course. After our morning snorkel, (and after drying off by lying in the sun on the bottom of the boats), we would go back to the research station for morning tea (bikkies with Nutella and lots of cordial), and then Darren would give us our morning lecture. Darren is currently doing his Ph.D. on how coral bleaching affects reef fish communities.
After morning lecture, we’d have lunch. This was the first time we almost always had left-overs for lunch, which was really a relief, because every day on the rainforest and camping trips we had the same sandwiches. These sandwiches were still an option, of course, but it was very refreshing to have something new to eat. (By new, of course, I mean old, because they were left-overs.) After lunch, we had about two hours to lie in the sun on the beach. It was the most relaxing part of the day, except for the sand flies. We’d meet back on the beach again each afternoon for our second snorkel of the day. These snorkels were more relaxing, because we didn’t need to do any data collection. We were able to explore much more, because we weren’t focused on a single species. We went to reefs along the lagoon, Horseshoe Reef, Clam Gardens, and Mermaid Lagoon. At some places, like Clam Gardens, we could swim to the beach when we finished our snorkel and relax there before we headed back to the station.
We had the rest of the day free to do research on our fish species, work in our Natural History Field Notebooks, and of course, to watch the sunset. I watched them religiously. It was just like at New College, when I would walk down to the bay every evening and spend an hour or more watching the sun go down and the sky change colors. Some of the nights we had barbecues on the beach beneath the stars. We went swimming in the ocean a few times without stinger suits; the water was the perfect temperature.
We saw many more sharks after our first encounter: most were black-tip reef sharks, but we also saw white-tip reef sharks and a tawny nurse shark, which was at least twice the size of me and swam directly beneath us. I saw four green sea turtles. The last one that I saw was just eating some sea grass near the shore. She just sat there eating and didn’t seem to be scared of me at all, even when I touched her shell. Angie and I ended up spending at least twenty minutes with her. We pet her head and held her flippers, and she even ate some sea grass out of my hand! It was the coolest experience ever. We also saw several sting rays, two octopuses (octopi?), an eel, and of course hundreds of different reef fish and corals. There were giant clams that I would have fit inside. We would touch their lips and try to get them to shut, and when they did, they would expel a ton of debris which then would attract many fish to the spot to eat it. If you were swimming above one of the clams when it shut, you could feel a rush of air coming up as it closed. One of the spookiest things we saw were the skeletons of giant clams: just their enormous shells, vacant and covered with algae and corals.
On our last day at Lizard Island, we climbed to the top of Cook’s Look. It’s where James Cook climbed to try to find a way to get his ship past the reef. The top was also an Aboriginal ceremony site for male initiations. It was a great hike, and the view was spectacular. It was nice to be able to hike without worrying about leeches! There wasn’t too much wildlife on the actual island except for a few birds and the goannas. On our last day, we were cleaning out the kitchen and emptying food into the compost bin. We opened the bin to find out that a goanna had tunneled its way into the bottom of the bin! A few goannas kept stealing bananas and avacados, but they would just carry them out, realize they didn’t actually want to eat such things, and leave them lying in the bushes.
It was hard to leave Lizard, because the chances that we’d ever be back are very, very slim. It’s also sad to leave the Great Barrier Reef – because if I ever have the chance to come back down here, it’s quite possible that the reef won’t be there anymore. It’s predicted to be destroyed by 2050 due to climate change.
We were able to take a larger plane back to Cairns instead of three tiny planes. On the way back, we flew over the reef that Steve Irwin died on.
Back in Cairns, we had a day to write up our marine field papers. The rest of the week was spent doing work: our final essay, our ISP proposals, our exams, and our field notebooks. It was an exhausting week of work, and we also had to make our plans for ISP. It was strange to say goodbye to everyone in the group—we’d been together every day for two months, so it was a bit disconcerting to recognize the fact that we’d be apart for the rest of the semester until we meet back in Cairns at the end of ISP.
I’m actually not alone on ISP: Geneveve and I are both in Townsville, about four hours south of Cairns. I am studying sea turtles and Geneveve is studying sharks. It’s nice to be with someone else. Geneveve is also a vegetarian, so it makes cooking dinner fun and easy. We are staying at a backpacker’s hostel right in town. I will write more about Townsville and ISP soon!
Friday, March 20, 2009
LIZARD
Let me preface the next series of blog entries by stating that it will be extremely difficult and nearly impossible to explain how amazing this place is.
On Thursday morning, we got up early for a 9 o’clock flight from Cairns to Lizard Island. We were taking a small plane that perfectly fit the 17 of us (14 students plus Tony, Meryl, and Darren, our marine trip leader.) There were two pilots for the plane, and some students immediately asked how long they had been flying because they were so nervous about taking such a small plane. We all boarded and got settled and were putting our nerves behind us…
Well, then the left engine wouldn’t start.
We had to get off the plane, so we all convened in the small waiting room (this wasn’t part of the Cairns airport) where we waited… for several hours. Finally, around noon, it was decided that instead of taking one small plane, we would be taking three much smaller planes. By small, I mean that students had to sit in the cock pits because there wasn’t enough seating. My kind pilot was Andy, and Lauren was the lucky one who got to sit up front. Genevieve, Darren, Sam, Melissa, and I were in the five seats behind the cock pit. I was squished in the middle seat. The flight was about an hour long, and Andy (who got his pilot’s license in 1995) did a few tricks. One of them was letting Lauren drive the plane. She wasn’t actually driving it, but as she had her hands on the steering wheel (although it’s not actually a wheel, so I don’t know what you would call it), Andy made the flight a bit rocky. He also flew up in elevation and then swooped down, so the things in my lap literally flew into the air. The coolest part was when we flew over some cool portions of the Great Barrier Reef, he flew down pretty low over it so that we could see. Needless to say, we had a safe landing at Lizard Island.
Lizard Island is named for the goannas that inhabit the island, but I’ve only seen one small one so far. There are plenty of geckos, however, as there are everywhere in Australia. The only things on Lizard Island are the marine research station and facilities, where we are staying, and a resort that costs about $1,500 a night to stay. Only about 10 student groups get to use the research station each year. How lucky am I??
My drive from the air-strip landing to the research station was standing up on the back of a tractor, but only four of us were lucky enough to do that (the rest were in a van). The living conditions here are nice—much nicer than during the rainforest trip! There are two houses that have bedrooms with screen doors and a long veranda. The house I’m staying in also has a kitchen and our dining room, which is a huge table on the porch. We have about a 30 second walk to the beach.
I can’t explain how beautiful it is. Just picture the perfect tropical island in paradise. Imagine the bluest greenest water you could ever want to swim in, then make it five times brighter. Picture another island in the near distance covered in cliffs and rainforest.
Imagine the Great Barrier Reef! The reef was incredibly amazing the first time we saw it during orientation, but the reefs here are so much more amazing. The colors are phenomenal, the fish are everywhere. Purples, blues, yellows, pinks, oranges…the corals are almost neon sometimes. We snorkel twice a day, every day. The first day we simply swam out to the reef. Today we took boats out to different reefs.
Two amazing moments: On the reef this morning, Megan (my snorkel buddy) pointed out a Green Sea Turtle. When I swam up to it, the moment beat even the amazing waterfall we swam under during the rainforest trip. We followed it for a while, swimming over it. At one point, it stopped, turned, and looked at us. I am just amazed by the grace and majesty of sea turtles, and I am even more amazed at the fact that I got to swim with one.
On the reef this afternoon, I was calmly emptying my snorkel of the salt water that snuck in to try to choke me to death. When I put the snorkel back on and looked down, there was a shark about five feet across from me. It looked directly at me. It was as scared of me as I was of it! We both swam in the opposite direction as quickly as possible, but the opposite direction for the shark was DIRECTLY under Megan! Scared by both of us, it swam away very quickly.
Megan and I also had fun picking up creatures (like sea cucumbers, fungi corals, and bright blue starfish) and touching the corals. There is so much to see. I thought I understood the concept of biodiversity before I came here, but there was no way I could have known.
On Thursday morning, we got up early for a 9 o’clock flight from Cairns to Lizard Island. We were taking a small plane that perfectly fit the 17 of us (14 students plus Tony, Meryl, and Darren, our marine trip leader.) There were two pilots for the plane, and some students immediately asked how long they had been flying because they were so nervous about taking such a small plane. We all boarded and got settled and were putting our nerves behind us…
Well, then the left engine wouldn’t start.
We had to get off the plane, so we all convened in the small waiting room (this wasn’t part of the Cairns airport) where we waited… for several hours. Finally, around noon, it was decided that instead of taking one small plane, we would be taking three much smaller planes. By small, I mean that students had to sit in the cock pits because there wasn’t enough seating. My kind pilot was Andy, and Lauren was the lucky one who got to sit up front. Genevieve, Darren, Sam, Melissa, and I were in the five seats behind the cock pit. I was squished in the middle seat. The flight was about an hour long, and Andy (who got his pilot’s license in 1995) did a few tricks. One of them was letting Lauren drive the plane. She wasn’t actually driving it, but as she had her hands on the steering wheel (although it’s not actually a wheel, so I don’t know what you would call it), Andy made the flight a bit rocky. He also flew up in elevation and then swooped down, so the things in my lap literally flew into the air. The coolest part was when we flew over some cool portions of the Great Barrier Reef, he flew down pretty low over it so that we could see. Needless to say, we had a safe landing at Lizard Island.
Lizard Island is named for the goannas that inhabit the island, but I’ve only seen one small one so far. There are plenty of geckos, however, as there are everywhere in Australia. The only things on Lizard Island are the marine research station and facilities, where we are staying, and a resort that costs about $1,500 a night to stay. Only about 10 student groups get to use the research station each year. How lucky am I??
My drive from the air-strip landing to the research station was standing up on the back of a tractor, but only four of us were lucky enough to do that (the rest were in a van). The living conditions here are nice—much nicer than during the rainforest trip! There are two houses that have bedrooms with screen doors and a long veranda. The house I’m staying in also has a kitchen and our dining room, which is a huge table on the porch. We have about a 30 second walk to the beach.
I can’t explain how beautiful it is. Just picture the perfect tropical island in paradise. Imagine the bluest greenest water you could ever want to swim in, then make it five times brighter. Picture another island in the near distance covered in cliffs and rainforest.
Imagine the Great Barrier Reef! The reef was incredibly amazing the first time we saw it during orientation, but the reefs here are so much more amazing. The colors are phenomenal, the fish are everywhere. Purples, blues, yellows, pinks, oranges…the corals are almost neon sometimes. We snorkel twice a day, every day. The first day we simply swam out to the reef. Today we took boats out to different reefs.
Two amazing moments: On the reef this morning, Megan (my snorkel buddy) pointed out a Green Sea Turtle. When I swam up to it, the moment beat even the amazing waterfall we swam under during the rainforest trip. We followed it for a while, swimming over it. At one point, it stopped, turned, and looked at us. I am just amazed by the grace and majesty of sea turtles, and I am even more amazed at the fact that I got to swim with one.
On the reef this afternoon, I was calmly emptying my snorkel of the salt water that snuck in to try to choke me to death. When I put the snorkel back on and looked down, there was a shark about five feet across from me. It looked directly at me. It was as scared of me as I was of it! We both swam in the opposite direction as quickly as possible, but the opposite direction for the shark was DIRECTLY under Megan! Scared by both of us, it swam away very quickly.
Megan and I also had fun picking up creatures (like sea cucumbers, fungi corals, and bright blue starfish) and touching the corals. There is so much to see. I thought I understood the concept of biodiversity before I came here, but there was no way I could have known.
Monday, March 16, 2009
rainforest trip
Despite the threat of a category 5 cyclone, on Saturday (3/7), we headed into the rainforest—I mean, the leech forest—for ten days. First, let me tell you about these leeches. They resemble little brown inch worms, but gushier. They have 32 suctions on their heads and butts, and to walk, they latch on with their butt, then flip around and latch on with their head. They leech to you with the suctions on their butt and then they suck your blood until they get really fat and full, then they drop off. They are sterile, so there’s really no harm in getting bitten by a leech, besides the fact that they are disgusting. By some miracle, (as well as constant flicking), I managed to not get bitten by a leech, but I probably removed at least 30 from crawling up my limbs. Jack taught us a method of removing crawling leeches. You just pluck it off, then you treat it like a booger: roll it up and throw it away. However, I usually used the pencil method, in which I got it to crawl on my pencil, then wiped it off onto a branch, usually smushing the leech in the process because sometimes they just wouldn’t come off. I didn’t really want to touch them. At least half of the group had leech bites. Steve even got one in his belly button!!! That was the worst. By the end of the week we were all wearing leech gear (pants tucked into our socks, hats and long sleeves in hot and humid weather, and even goggles, if your name is Chelsea McGorry.)
Despite the leeches, the rainforest trip was great. On our first day, we saw a cassowary!! These prehistoric birds, a bit smaller than ostriches, are very endangered and extremely rare to see in the wild. We were driving in some forest down near Mission Beach, and saw one ahead of us on an old dirt road. It was the first time I was really glad I had been lugging my heavy binoculars around for so long. The second time I was really glad I had been lugging my heavy binoculars around for so long was when we saw a Lumholtz Tree Kangaroo, about 20 meters up in a tree, staring down at us with his cute black face.
For the first two nights of the trip, we stayed in a hostel called the Tree House. There was a snake by the pool, a huntsman spider in the bathroom, and we woke up the first morning to a Hercules moth right outside of our door. It was well-named: about the size of my two hands. There was also a pet cat which I was pretty happy about. We had lunch and dinner cooking and clean-up crews for the whole trip, so we all took turns preparing our meals. After staying at the Tree House, we went back up to the Atherton Tablelands (where we were for orientation) and stayed at “The Lodge.” The Lodge was on some rainforest property: there was a fairly nice house (where Tony, Jack, and Meryl stayed); the annex, where 7 students stayed in cots on the floor; and the dairy, where 7 of us slept in beds. The shower and kitchen were at the dairy, and we all got together in the living room every night to do homework or play games. Living conditions were probably on the level of disgustingness as Scribner Village, but maybe a little bit worse, since we found a dead skink rotting under Julia’s bed. Oh, and a python lived in the ceiling. And the septic flooded, so everything smelled like shit and dead skink. But other than that, it was great.
We spent our days going to National Parks and States Forests. One of our assignments for the whole trip was “Car Window Ecology” in which we had to look out the window on our many bus trips and write down how the landforms and vegetation were changing. We examined topographic maps, aerial photos, and soil samples at the sites we stopped at, and took notes about the canopy cover, vegetation characteristics, cyclone damage, and forest type. Each night, we had to write an entry about an “Organism of the Day” in our Natural History Field Notebooks, but we couldn’t write about any of the organisms that students presented on. (Prior to the rainforest trip, we were each assigned a flora and fauna to research. When we came across our flora or fauna in the rainforest, we were to present what we had researched without notes. I was responsible for Ground Ferns and Honeyeaters.)
On the third day of the trip, we went to Henrietta Creek to walk the Nandroya Falls track. It was the first good hike we’d had in a while, but it ended in the most amazing place ever. There was a huge and beautiful waterfall, probably about 80 meters high, tumbling from straight-up cliff face into a pool of water. But it gets better: we went swimming beneath the fall. You look straight up, and you can barely see the sky, the cliffs were so tall! It was one of the happiest and most exhilarating moments of my life.
The next day, we did another hike (this one in the rain—we had good weather, except for a handful of rainy days) at Mount Hypipamee National Park. The walk ended at a huge crater caused by a volcano. It went so far down, we couldn’t even measure its depth. It was partly filled with water, and apparently people have scuba dived there to find out how deep it is, but no one ever reached the bottom.
On day five, we went tree planting! We worked with a local group, TREAT, as well as the School for Field Studies students (a similar abroad program) to plant native tree species along a wildlife corridor. The soils on the Tablelands are basaltic, so we were thickly covered with red dirt. It was so much fun to be down in the dirt though, and to feel like we were giving back to the community. The people running the planting were amazed at how quickly we planted the corridor: they even ran out of seedlings! They’d never had so many people help with a planting before. After the planting, the owner of the property took us around to show us previous plantings and talk about revegetation projects. We then went to Lake Eacham to go for a swim. We had gone to Lake Eacham during orientation as well, and after the waterfall, it’s the best place we’ve swam. The water is extremely clean and the perfect temperature. We got to go into Atherton for the afternoon to use the internet and be in civilization for a few hours before we headed back to the Lodge.
On two nights at the Lodge, we went spotlighting. After dark, we would walk in a single file line. Jack had a spot light, and some students had head lamps or flashlight. You hold the light at eye level and search in the trees for the red eye shine of possums. We saw four Herbert River Ringtail Possums and one Striped Possum, which looks sort of like a skunk, but is very rare.
One morning, we went mistnetting at Jack’s house. Jack lives in a cabin that he built for himself in the rainforest. I guess you could say it resembles a large treehouse. Next to his house, however, is the “house” he lived in for five years before he built the big one. It is the size of a shed. It’s permanent camping. You do what you want to do. Jack had set up five mist nets around his house, which we checked every 45 minutes or so throughout the morning. It was a rainy morning, so we didn’t catch any birds, until we went to collect the mist nets to put them away and found a Spectacled Monarch. It was really tangled in the net, and Tony couldn’t get it out, but Jack came running, and untangled the bird with the most nimble fingers I’ve ever seen. It was amazing to watch. He brought the bird back to his house to band it. Jack is one of about two people in Queensland who bands birds, so ornithologists here don’t know very much about bird migrations in Australia at this point.
On Friday and Saturday, we got into groups to do our rainforest projects. We had to do eight hours of data collection and analysis, and then present our projects on Monday morning. This was the first actual science project I’ve really done so far. I worked with Geneveve and Steve, and we sampled wait-a-whiles, or climbing palms, in the rainforest behind the lodge. The rainforest grows along a ridge that separates a metamorphic soil base from a basaltic soil base, so we sampled the plants on both sides of the ridge, as well as in areas of closed canopy and open canopy, and made comparisons. The data collection for this project is when most of the leech bites occurred. I definitely relied on my group members for the real science-y parts of the project, but all of the small projects we’re doing have really helped us prepare for ISP.
On Sunday, our original plan was to hike Mount Bartle Frer, which is the leechiest rainforest around. We ended up not going, because of the rain, so instead we drove west to hike Mount Baldy. It was a very steep but short hike. I was disappointed with the short amount of time we spent at the summit, but when we climbed down, we drove to Granite Gorge, where we played with wild rock wallabies. A mother with a baby in her pouch literally jumped over my legs while I was sitting down and let me pet her. We also went swimming at the gorge, which was a little bit muddy, but still refreshing. I would take rock wallabies over leeches pretty much any day.
We got back to Cairns yesterday afternoon. I really can’t believe how fast the rainforest trip flew by. We are only here for two days, and then we are heading to Lizard Island to study the Great Barrier Reef for ten days. Then we’re only back in Cairns for a week before ISP starts! I am hoping to study sea turtles, but have yet to finalize anything.
Despite the leeches, the rainforest trip was great. On our first day, we saw a cassowary!! These prehistoric birds, a bit smaller than ostriches, are very endangered and extremely rare to see in the wild. We were driving in some forest down near Mission Beach, and saw one ahead of us on an old dirt road. It was the first time I was really glad I had been lugging my heavy binoculars around for so long. The second time I was really glad I had been lugging my heavy binoculars around for so long was when we saw a Lumholtz Tree Kangaroo, about 20 meters up in a tree, staring down at us with his cute black face.
For the first two nights of the trip, we stayed in a hostel called the Tree House. There was a snake by the pool, a huntsman spider in the bathroom, and we woke up the first morning to a Hercules moth right outside of our door. It was well-named: about the size of my two hands. There was also a pet cat which I was pretty happy about. We had lunch and dinner cooking and clean-up crews for the whole trip, so we all took turns preparing our meals. After staying at the Tree House, we went back up to the Atherton Tablelands (where we were for orientation) and stayed at “The Lodge.” The Lodge was on some rainforest property: there was a fairly nice house (where Tony, Jack, and Meryl stayed); the annex, where 7 students stayed in cots on the floor; and the dairy, where 7 of us slept in beds. The shower and kitchen were at the dairy, and we all got together in the living room every night to do homework or play games. Living conditions were probably on the level of disgustingness as Scribner Village, but maybe a little bit worse, since we found a dead skink rotting under Julia’s bed. Oh, and a python lived in the ceiling. And the septic flooded, so everything smelled like shit and dead skink. But other than that, it was great.
We spent our days going to National Parks and States Forests. One of our assignments for the whole trip was “Car Window Ecology” in which we had to look out the window on our many bus trips and write down how the landforms and vegetation were changing. We examined topographic maps, aerial photos, and soil samples at the sites we stopped at, and took notes about the canopy cover, vegetation characteristics, cyclone damage, and forest type. Each night, we had to write an entry about an “Organism of the Day” in our Natural History Field Notebooks, but we couldn’t write about any of the organisms that students presented on. (Prior to the rainforest trip, we were each assigned a flora and fauna to research. When we came across our flora or fauna in the rainforest, we were to present what we had researched without notes. I was responsible for Ground Ferns and Honeyeaters.)
On the third day of the trip, we went to Henrietta Creek to walk the Nandroya Falls track. It was the first good hike we’d had in a while, but it ended in the most amazing place ever. There was a huge and beautiful waterfall, probably about 80 meters high, tumbling from straight-up cliff face into a pool of water. But it gets better: we went swimming beneath the fall. You look straight up, and you can barely see the sky, the cliffs were so tall! It was one of the happiest and most exhilarating moments of my life.
The next day, we did another hike (this one in the rain—we had good weather, except for a handful of rainy days) at Mount Hypipamee National Park. The walk ended at a huge crater caused by a volcano. It went so far down, we couldn’t even measure its depth. It was partly filled with water, and apparently people have scuba dived there to find out how deep it is, but no one ever reached the bottom.
On day five, we went tree planting! We worked with a local group, TREAT, as well as the School for Field Studies students (a similar abroad program) to plant native tree species along a wildlife corridor. The soils on the Tablelands are basaltic, so we were thickly covered with red dirt. It was so much fun to be down in the dirt though, and to feel like we were giving back to the community. The people running the planting were amazed at how quickly we planted the corridor: they even ran out of seedlings! They’d never had so many people help with a planting before. After the planting, the owner of the property took us around to show us previous plantings and talk about revegetation projects. We then went to Lake Eacham to go for a swim. We had gone to Lake Eacham during orientation as well, and after the waterfall, it’s the best place we’ve swam. The water is extremely clean and the perfect temperature. We got to go into Atherton for the afternoon to use the internet and be in civilization for a few hours before we headed back to the Lodge.
On two nights at the Lodge, we went spotlighting. After dark, we would walk in a single file line. Jack had a spot light, and some students had head lamps or flashlight. You hold the light at eye level and search in the trees for the red eye shine of possums. We saw four Herbert River Ringtail Possums and one Striped Possum, which looks sort of like a skunk, but is very rare.
One morning, we went mistnetting at Jack’s house. Jack lives in a cabin that he built for himself in the rainforest. I guess you could say it resembles a large treehouse. Next to his house, however, is the “house” he lived in for five years before he built the big one. It is the size of a shed. It’s permanent camping. You do what you want to do. Jack had set up five mist nets around his house, which we checked every 45 minutes or so throughout the morning. It was a rainy morning, so we didn’t catch any birds, until we went to collect the mist nets to put them away and found a Spectacled Monarch. It was really tangled in the net, and Tony couldn’t get it out, but Jack came running, and untangled the bird with the most nimble fingers I’ve ever seen. It was amazing to watch. He brought the bird back to his house to band it. Jack is one of about two people in Queensland who bands birds, so ornithologists here don’t know very much about bird migrations in Australia at this point.
On Friday and Saturday, we got into groups to do our rainforest projects. We had to do eight hours of data collection and analysis, and then present our projects on Monday morning. This was the first actual science project I’ve really done so far. I worked with Geneveve and Steve, and we sampled wait-a-whiles, or climbing palms, in the rainforest behind the lodge. The rainforest grows along a ridge that separates a metamorphic soil base from a basaltic soil base, so we sampled the plants on both sides of the ridge, as well as in areas of closed canopy and open canopy, and made comparisons. The data collection for this project is when most of the leech bites occurred. I definitely relied on my group members for the real science-y parts of the project, but all of the small projects we’re doing have really helped us prepare for ISP.
On Sunday, our original plan was to hike Mount Bartle Frer, which is the leechiest rainforest around. We ended up not going, because of the rain, so instead we drove west to hike Mount Baldy. It was a very steep but short hike. I was disappointed with the short amount of time we spent at the summit, but when we climbed down, we drove to Granite Gorge, where we played with wild rock wallabies. A mother with a baby in her pouch literally jumped over my legs while I was sitting down and let me pet her. We also went swimming at the gorge, which was a little bit muddy, but still refreshing. I would take rock wallabies over leeches pretty much any day.
We got back to Cairns yesterday afternoon. I really can’t believe how fast the rainforest trip flew by. We are only here for two days, and then we are heading to Lizard Island to study the Great Barrier Reef for ten days. Then we’re only back in Cairns for a week before ISP starts! I am hoping to study sea turtles, but have yet to finalize anything.
Monday, March 2, 2009
camping trip
On Sunday morning, (February 22nd), our homestay families dropped us off in Cairns after our two-week stays. We were asked by our advisor to be ready at 9:30 AM, even though we would be spending our camping trip on “Murri time.” Well, our advisor showed up at about 11 o’clock. No worries.
We headed out into the “bush” in three 4WD vehicles. Tony drove one of them with Meryl, the lovely woman who provides us with food on all of our excursions. Russell Butler and Ian Owens, the two Aboriginal men we camped with, drove the other two. Russell drove the vehicle I was in. He is a jolly, laughing man with a big belly and curly white hair. Think of an Aboriginal Santa Claus or a beautiful black Buddha wearing shorts and a T-shirt, flip-flops, and a cowboy hat. We sang one of Russell’s favorite songs on the drive: “G’day g’day! And how ya goin? What do you know, strike a light. G’day G’day! And how ya going? Ya say g’day g’day g’day and you’ll be right!” Ian’s grandson, Graham, also came with us on the trip. He is 18 and “half-caste” with an Aboriginal mother and a white father.
The “bush” ended up being the Lion’s Den Hotel. Well, the campsite behind the hotel. So we did have a bathroom for the first three days of the trip. When we got there, we set up camp: one giant tarp became a tent where we gathered during the day to do homework and have meals. We set up the kitchen there, too (two tables, a grill, and a 3-burner stove with tubs for washing, tea kettles, pots, pans, platters, and three Eskes). We set up our sleeping tents around this community center, two people to a tent. My roomie for the week was Julia.
We spent most of our time at the campsite. Everyone always took part in cooking our meals. I especially had to watch out that the veggies were cooked on the grill before any meat was! I’ve never been in the situation where food had to be cooked for so many people, and it was a bit challenging as a vegetarian. But it was fun preparing meals with everyone, then washing mess kits and pots with river water.
We got together each night at Russell’s feet. Sometimes he played the guitar (my personal favorite was “Me and Bobby McGee”). He told us Dreamtime stories and talked about current Aboriginal issues. He was infinitely happy to share his culture with us, and we listened to his words in the dark, cool breeze flapping the tent and “cuppas” in our hands.
On the first night, I received my Aboriginal name. I was one of the first to receive one, so I guess Russell had me pinned. I am Guyibara, or the curlew. The curlew is a skinny-legged bird with large eyes. Russell named me Guyibara because I am wide-eyed and observant. I’m a loner, watchful, and walk at an unhurried pace. The curlew makes a sound at night that sounds like someone crying. Russell asked me if I cry a lot. Well, I didn’t answer that question. (Laugh if you know what I’m talking about.)
Russell told us the story of why the curlew cries. There was a family of curlews: a mother, father, and two babies. The mother and father went to the stream one day to gather some water. The owl, watching from above, saw that they had left, and told his pet dingo that he could go eat the baby curlews because he was hungry. The dingo did as the owl suggested, and when the curlew parents came back to find their babies gone, they cried and cried all night. The next day, the father curlew took revenge and killed the dingo. He went up to the owl’s cave, but the owl was too afraid to leave his cave without his pet dingo. The father curlew threatened him, and said that if he ever came out in the light of day, he would kill him. To this day, the owl doesn’t come out during the day. If you see an owl in daylight, it signifies a death in your family.
We spent our second day camping lying in the sun on the rocks by the creek. I also led half our group in a yoga session in the morning! We were on Murri time, so the time was ours. The creek was croc free, but we did see a goanna climbing a tree at our campsite. We also made string out of the bark from a fig tree, and made bracelets and necklaces with beads that Russell brought. We threw spears (aiming for a cereal box) and used the leaves from the soap tree on our bug bites.
On the third day, it was a bit rainy, so instead of hanging around camp under the tent all day, we went to Cooktown. Captain James Cook landed there on June 17, 1770, and spent six weeks there repairing his ship, which had crashed into the Great Barrier Reef. We just spent a few hours there, walking around, then drove up to the look-out peak, which had a beautiful view of the forest-covered mountains and the blue blue ocean.
When we got back to the campsite, Russell took us on a short rainforest walk to show us some plants and their uses. It was Megan’s birthday, so after dinner we headed to the Lion’s Den Pub for some drinks and some delicious banana-chocolate birthday cake. We played darts and pool with Russ and Ian. When else do you drink with your professors? Not bad.
After three nights at the first campsite, we went to Dinden National Park. This campsite was a bit more rugged – no bathrooms this time (although there was an outhouse.) Not washing my face for the next four days did some damage to my skin, but no worries. This campsite was on another beautiful creek, with cold water, but the most comfortable rocks you could ever lay on in your life. We spent a lot of time in the sun at this campsite – I had no idea how tan I was getting until I saw a mirror when we got back to Cairns!
At the Dinden campsite, we painted boomerangs! I painted one of mine with curlew footprints and traditional Aboriginal dot art. They should provide some nice wall decorations for my room next year. =) We were painting the boomerangs on some large boulders on the edge of our campsite, and about five feet from where we were sitting, Graham spotted a death adder (very poisonous snake)! We stood around watching it for a while (they will only bite if they feel threatened, so basically only if you step on it), then Tony and Russell moved it away with a stick.
One of the mornings at Dinden, Megan, Angie, Geneveve and I took a walk. We walked about a half an hour down the road until we reached a circuit trail that wound around the creek and led to the biggest waterfall I think I’ve seen. We were SO high above everything, the sky was brilliant blue, the gum trees were bright green, the granite rocks were immense, and the water of the waterfall was the clearest water in the world. It was beautiful, and it felt so good to see the waterfall after we had earned it by hiking there. (We actually drove to it the second day, which wasn’t as awesome, although still beautiful.) Also, on our walk, we passed a chain of 76 furry white caterpillars! They were just marching along, nose to butt, follow the leader. It was pretty cool.
Overall, the camping trip was like a vacation. We didn’t have a schedule, so there wasn’t pressure to do much academic work. It was great to talk to Russ and Ian and learn about their culture. They were some of the friendliest people I know. We’re back in Cairns now, and the next 5 days are packed with lectures and assignment and ISP preparation before we depart for our rainforest trip. We’ve been here a month already! It’s hard to believe.
We headed out into the “bush” in three 4WD vehicles. Tony drove one of them with Meryl, the lovely woman who provides us with food on all of our excursions. Russell Butler and Ian Owens, the two Aboriginal men we camped with, drove the other two. Russell drove the vehicle I was in. He is a jolly, laughing man with a big belly and curly white hair. Think of an Aboriginal Santa Claus or a beautiful black Buddha wearing shorts and a T-shirt, flip-flops, and a cowboy hat. We sang one of Russell’s favorite songs on the drive: “G’day g’day! And how ya goin? What do you know, strike a light. G’day G’day! And how ya going? Ya say g’day g’day g’day and you’ll be right!” Ian’s grandson, Graham, also came with us on the trip. He is 18 and “half-caste” with an Aboriginal mother and a white father.
The “bush” ended up being the Lion’s Den Hotel. Well, the campsite behind the hotel. So we did have a bathroom for the first three days of the trip. When we got there, we set up camp: one giant tarp became a tent where we gathered during the day to do homework and have meals. We set up the kitchen there, too (two tables, a grill, and a 3-burner stove with tubs for washing, tea kettles, pots, pans, platters, and three Eskes). We set up our sleeping tents around this community center, two people to a tent. My roomie for the week was Julia.
We spent most of our time at the campsite. Everyone always took part in cooking our meals. I especially had to watch out that the veggies were cooked on the grill before any meat was! I’ve never been in the situation where food had to be cooked for so many people, and it was a bit challenging as a vegetarian. But it was fun preparing meals with everyone, then washing mess kits and pots with river water.
We got together each night at Russell’s feet. Sometimes he played the guitar (my personal favorite was “Me and Bobby McGee”). He told us Dreamtime stories and talked about current Aboriginal issues. He was infinitely happy to share his culture with us, and we listened to his words in the dark, cool breeze flapping the tent and “cuppas” in our hands.
On the first night, I received my Aboriginal name. I was one of the first to receive one, so I guess Russell had me pinned. I am Guyibara, or the curlew. The curlew is a skinny-legged bird with large eyes. Russell named me Guyibara because I am wide-eyed and observant. I’m a loner, watchful, and walk at an unhurried pace. The curlew makes a sound at night that sounds like someone crying. Russell asked me if I cry a lot. Well, I didn’t answer that question. (Laugh if you know what I’m talking about.)
Russell told us the story of why the curlew cries. There was a family of curlews: a mother, father, and two babies. The mother and father went to the stream one day to gather some water. The owl, watching from above, saw that they had left, and told his pet dingo that he could go eat the baby curlews because he was hungry. The dingo did as the owl suggested, and when the curlew parents came back to find their babies gone, they cried and cried all night. The next day, the father curlew took revenge and killed the dingo. He went up to the owl’s cave, but the owl was too afraid to leave his cave without his pet dingo. The father curlew threatened him, and said that if he ever came out in the light of day, he would kill him. To this day, the owl doesn’t come out during the day. If you see an owl in daylight, it signifies a death in your family.
We spent our second day camping lying in the sun on the rocks by the creek. I also led half our group in a yoga session in the morning! We were on Murri time, so the time was ours. The creek was croc free, but we did see a goanna climbing a tree at our campsite. We also made string out of the bark from a fig tree, and made bracelets and necklaces with beads that Russell brought. We threw spears (aiming for a cereal box) and used the leaves from the soap tree on our bug bites.
On the third day, it was a bit rainy, so instead of hanging around camp under the tent all day, we went to Cooktown. Captain James Cook landed there on June 17, 1770, and spent six weeks there repairing his ship, which had crashed into the Great Barrier Reef. We just spent a few hours there, walking around, then drove up to the look-out peak, which had a beautiful view of the forest-covered mountains and the blue blue ocean.
When we got back to the campsite, Russell took us on a short rainforest walk to show us some plants and their uses. It was Megan’s birthday, so after dinner we headed to the Lion’s Den Pub for some drinks and some delicious banana-chocolate birthday cake. We played darts and pool with Russ and Ian. When else do you drink with your professors? Not bad.
After three nights at the first campsite, we went to Dinden National Park. This campsite was a bit more rugged – no bathrooms this time (although there was an outhouse.) Not washing my face for the next four days did some damage to my skin, but no worries. This campsite was on another beautiful creek, with cold water, but the most comfortable rocks you could ever lay on in your life. We spent a lot of time in the sun at this campsite – I had no idea how tan I was getting until I saw a mirror when we got back to Cairns!
At the Dinden campsite, we painted boomerangs! I painted one of mine with curlew footprints and traditional Aboriginal dot art. They should provide some nice wall decorations for my room next year. =) We were painting the boomerangs on some large boulders on the edge of our campsite, and about five feet from where we were sitting, Graham spotted a death adder (very poisonous snake)! We stood around watching it for a while (they will only bite if they feel threatened, so basically only if you step on it), then Tony and Russell moved it away with a stick.
One of the mornings at Dinden, Megan, Angie, Geneveve and I took a walk. We walked about a half an hour down the road until we reached a circuit trail that wound around the creek and led to the biggest waterfall I think I’ve seen. We were SO high above everything, the sky was brilliant blue, the gum trees were bright green, the granite rocks were immense, and the water of the waterfall was the clearest water in the world. It was beautiful, and it felt so good to see the waterfall after we had earned it by hiking there. (We actually drove to it the second day, which wasn’t as awesome, although still beautiful.) Also, on our walk, we passed a chain of 76 furry white caterpillars! They were just marching along, nose to butt, follow the leader. It was pretty cool.
Overall, the camping trip was like a vacation. We didn’t have a schedule, so there wasn’t pressure to do much academic work. It was great to talk to Russ and Ian and learn about their culture. They were some of the friendliest people I know. We’re back in Cairns now, and the next 5 days are packed with lectures and assignment and ISP preparation before we depart for our rainforest trip. We’ve been here a month already! It’s hard to believe.
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