Departure.

So, the end is finally here; I’ve got one week left in Australia. It’s our last full night here at the centre: tomorrow night people start leaving for the airport as early as 2 a.m. From there, I’m headed to Cairns for the night, and then on to Sydney for the next five. I’ll be home December 16th. Not much longer! But, as I’ll be travelling with even LESS reliable internet, you won’t be hearing from me much. But do not fear, dear reader. I promise at least one more update before this blog is no longer — even if that post does come once I’m back stateside, and it’s no longer technically an abroad blog. My apologies! At least it’ll mean I can share pictures.

So, until then, I hope you’re all enjoying the beginning of the Christmas season. I can’t wait to see you!

Great Barrier Reef.

So guess where I spent my Sunday last weekend?

That’s right. On a boat! Well, actually, not always ON the boat. Sometimes, like when this picture was taken, we were in the water. And it was magical. Seeing the Great Barrier Reef is not a recent dream of mine; it’s something I’ve known about and wanted to see for a long time now, and, six days later, I’m still completely ecstatic that I got to experience it. I wish I could write more to you about it right now, alas my directed research project is consuming just about all of my time. So, instead, I will leave you with a few pictures and my personal assurance that the reef is absolutely one of the most beautiful things a person could ever see. So many beautiful corals, so many beautiful fish. It’s a whole other world down there, and it’s one I hope to see again soon.

If you look closely, you can spot a white tipped reef shark in the center of this picture.

These fish were all around us when we got in to the water at our second location, Michaelmas Cay. They’re actually a lot bigger than they look in this picture.

We had to wear stinger suits. We looked pretty absurd. (But the water is PERFECT!)

You can’t quite get a sense for scale in this picture, but that’s one clam. And it’s gigantic.

And I leave you with one final pretty reef photo:

A smattering of photographs.

So, I finally uploaded more than two photos of my time in this country. I spent a free weekend in Cairns, and I actually managed to find fast internet at my hostel. It was surreal. Naturally, the first thing I did was upload an album’s worth of pictures to Facebook (and buy an album on iTunes; hello, new (to me) M. Ward). They’re not in any particular order, really, and they’re not at all representative of my time here, but I figure it’s a start. If you’d like to check them out, head this way.

Field work.

Lately, I’ve been spending all my time doing botanical field work in the rainforest. We leave at 8:30am and we usually get back to the centre around 6pm. It’s a full day, and it’s exhausting. During my brief time in the Mabi, I’ve: (1) gotten stung by a stinging tree of death, (2) had my hands, face, and any other exposed body part torn apart by wait-a-whiles, (3) rolled my ankle on a rock, causing me to fall on a rotting log and hit my head on another rock, and, most recently, (4) developed an intense case of scrub itch (that would be scabbies).

 

Sounds wonderful, right? I bet you’re wishing you could hop on a plane right now and begin your own Mabi field work. But really, I kind of love it. Every time I start thinking “What in the HELL am I doing here?” I try to think about the fact that here I am, walking through the most beautiful forests, seeing flora and fauna that most people will never get to experience. I mean, how often do you get to take a picture of a Boyd’s Forest Dragon that’s right in your face? And then have it jump on you and climb up you because it thinks you’re a tree? Probably not very often. And yet that’s just what I experienced yesterday:

A long overdue update.

It’s been quite some time since I last updated this blog. I had every intention of doing so numerous times, but life here has gotten quite hectic. I’m writing this right now from the comfort of my own bed and it’s the first time in over a week that I can lay here and know I’ll actually get to spend more than one consecutive night here (that’s not to say I’ll be getting much of a reprieve — mid-semester break begins on Thursday, so off I go again).

Since the last post, I’ve meant to tell you about my home stay weekend (in summary: great food, interesting people, incredible relaxation), my first trip to the Pacific Ocean (on this side of the world, at least) at Mission Beach (one word: AMAZING; another word: sunburned), and the beginning of my directed research project (I’m doing plants! I know, I thought I hated plants, too). I’m sure there’s quite a bit of other stuff that’s happened since then, too. So I guess I’ll just start with the most recent and work my way back as best I can.

The present: I just got back from a weekend volunteering and concert-going at the annual Yungaburra Folk Festival. I have to say, I liked it a lot more than I thought I would. I love folk music, and I like the idea of music festivals, but after a rather long week (I’m getting to that), I just wasn’t psyched about it when we all piled into the van Saturday morning to be dropped off at the campground, on our own for the next 24 hours. Thankfully, I lucked out with my volunteering tasks. On Saturday all I did was work the door at one venue for an hour and then work in the kitchen of another for two hours. Both of my shifts were midday and I managed to catch the acts I wanted to (unlike a couple of my friends who were stuck working while the rest of us seriously enjoyed the 11 p.m. reggae band (which may or may not have had something to do with the alcohol in our systems by that point)). My Sunday shifts were equally low-key: I was doorkeeper again for two workshops and then I worked the merch table for a couple hours. No sweat. I enjoyed the excessive Yungaburra free time much more than I thought I would, too; I got to eat nice(r) food, visit my new favorite bookstore, and interact with the locals more than usual. Really, the only part of the weekend that was sort of frustrating was the lack of my own bed Saturday night. Instead of the usual shuttle us everywhere routine, we camped at the free-for-volunteers campsite, which was about a 15-minute walk from the festival. The campsite was decent enough, but man was I over camping at that point. Which brings me to:

The past: DR (directed research) group camping trip to Undara. Undara is this super isolated region southwest of here that’s famous for its lava tube formations. My group was technically there to do research on dry rainforest trees, but that didn’t mean that Tim, our professor, wasn’t also going to take full advantage of our research permit to let us explore otherwise private cave systems. It was fantastic. It was also completely physically exhausting. The project I’m working (along with one other classmate and an intern) on requires us to set up 50m by 20m plots in the forest and then visually inspect every tree in that area for a few characteristics. You can guess how tiring this can get when you’re doing four plots with up to 80 trees each in the heat of the day in the Australian outback. Also factor in that the ground isn’t really soil, but a series of boulders and smaller, wobbling rocks. (And that it’s me we’re talking about — I trip over my own feet on an almost daily basis.)

Still, I really enjoyed myself. If you told me six months ago that I’d be spending my days climbing boulders that most certainly have poisonous snakes under them, I would have assured you that you were in fact crazy. But now, I’m gaining confidence in my outdoor abilities; I’m learning to trust my footing, to just brush off the creepy crawlers (as opposed to my former method: squeal and get someone else to deal with it), and to push past my fears. If I fall, I fall. I’ll get back up again.

The future: Tomorrow morning we head off for fall break. I’ll be spending five days on Magnetic Island, a beautiful little island off the coast of Townsville. I’m incredibly excited to get a break from this place, and to get even more of a chance to be a beach bum (and see koalas!). Maybe while I’m there I’ll even have time to update this blog again!

Five things.

On Thursday, I returned from my first trip to the Australian outback. I’d meant to post this blog sooner (it’s Sunday here), but a chaotic school schedule and just general tiredness has gotten the better of me. So, here I am now. I present to you: Five Things I’d Never Done Before I Went to Chillagoe.

1. Seen a wild kangaroo.

I know, it’s absurd. I’ve been in Australia for a month now and I hadn’t managed to see a kangaroo until this week. But, it was made so much better by the fact that it was a real, wild Eastern Grey Kangaroo. And it wasn’t just one, either. It was many, many kangaroos. And it was SO awesome. I would also like to point out that my childhood nickname of Eagle Eyes still holds true: I was the first one of the group to spot a kangaroo as we drove along the dusty, unpaved highway to Chillagoe.

2. Gone caving.

Let me just say, caving is amazing. I was incredibly nervous before we began — I’m a huge klutz and my balancing abilities are less than ideal. We went into two different caves, one open (meaning there was natural light) and one closed (no light once inside). My group went into the open cave first, and I’m glad. It gave me a chance to adjust to that whole rock climbing concept and gain the tiniest bit of confidence in my footing. The open cave is also where the previous post’s picture was taken. After 45 minutes exploring the open cave, we moved on to the closed cave. This one was much more intimidating. You sort of had to shimmy into the opening and then climb down a rather steep descent — I actually had to slide down one rock face. Once inside though, it was absolutely perfect. Once we’d all explored a bit, we just sat down and turned off our headlamps and stayed silent. It was unreal to experience such complete sensory depravation. I couldn’t see a thing; I couldn’t hear a thing. Too freaking cool.

3. Drank hot, yellow water and didn’t mind.

In a climate that dry and sunny, you really, REALLY need to keep hydrated. This sometimes means drinking about 1 litre of water every couple hours. I brought two Nalgenes with me, and I tried to keep one filled as a backup at all times. As said backup bottle generally remained in the van, I was always drinking hot water. And I don’t mean warm, either. I mean almost-hot-enough-to-steep-tea hot. This hot water drinking got even more interesting once we reached our campsite for the second night, which was a Aboriginal clan’s outpost on reclaimed land. They had a spigot for drinking water, but let me just say, I’m grateful my Nalgene is colored. Otherwise, I could’ve seen just how opaque the water was (and how many dirt particles were floating in it).

4. Counted weir swimming as bathing.

I discovered that in the outback, you’re constantly covered in a thick sheen of orange dust. Seriously, you can’t tell if you’re tanning or just dirty. Your once-soft and shiny hair becomes a dusty helmet of straw. Showering seems completely futile, because the second you leave the stall, you begin the dust re-accumulation process. As someone who showers almost every morning without fail, this was a hard realization for me to accept at first. But then I just decided to fully embrace it. We were all incredibly dirty, so why even bother? That first full day in Chillagoe (and up until the second night), I considered swimming in the local weir (dam) to essentially be bathing. It got the dust of me and cooled me down — at least temporarily. And, for the record, I did finally give in and shower on Wednesday night at the outpost. It felt wonderful.

5. Played a didgeridoo.

Okay, so the use of the word “play” is a bit optimistic… Really I just attempted to blow air through the instrument and mostly failed. You’d think an instrument that is essentially a piece of termite-hollowed bark would be easy to play. Not so. There’s a complicated process involving proper embouchure and circular breathing and different breathing patterns to make different sounds and oh, it’s all just too much for me. Hearing it played properly though was entirely awesome. And if you haven’t heard a didgeridoo played, you should probably hear one here (note: that links to a YouTube video that I can’t actually watch here at the centre, so I hope it’s a decent one).

Life at Chillagoe.

I’d been planning to post a long update about my trip to the Australian Outback (and I still will), but first here’s a picture from our caving adventure (thank you, McDonald’s internet for your fast(er) internet):

For the birds.

This past week, I went birding for the first time. And the second time (this is a sore subject for me: I wasn’t scheduled to go a second time and then got switched in the night before. I was mad.). I’m not talking casual birding, either; I’m talking no-shit, bush-walking, get-up-at-5 a.m. birding. Yeah, that’s right: twice in one week my trusty marimba iPod alarm went off at 4:50 in the morning. It was painful. And reader, I wish I could tell you that it was ultimately worth it, that I discovered a newfound love of ornithology and that I want nothing more than to wake up with the birds every morning to watch and listen to them. But I don’t. I still don’t understand the appeal of birding. My binos are nice, sure, and I do appreciate getting my parents’ money’s worth out of them. The birds are pretty, too, but I can never see the darn things when they’re five trees away and 30 metres up in the canopy. Oh and the calls — after spending four days of my life diligently learning 30 different bird calls (and acing the quiz, thankyouverymuch), I still can’t distinguish the sounds. When there are 20 different birds singing their 20 different songs simultaneously, you just can’t isolate each bird. Or maybe you can, but I challenge you to do so at 6:15 a.m. after you’ve just traipsed 100 metres through the thickest wait-a-while and stinging tree thicket you’ve ever encountered (true story: I don’t know how I avoided the stinging trees).

See, we went birding this week to gather data for a larger survey of bird species richness (that is, the number of species in a community) in Mabi type 5b rainforest fragments (doesn’t that sound official?). Mabi forests are the ones that are home to the completely adorable Lumholtz tree kangaroos (Mabi is an Aboriginal word for tree kangaroo). This type of forest is incredibly fragmented across the Tablelands and was also subject to some serious cyclone damage back in 2006. Our survey is looking to see if bird species richness has changed at all in these fragments post-Cyclone Larry, as the previous centre director collected the same type of data back in 2005 and 2006. It’s an interesting study, definitely, and I only hope my (way) less-than-perfect birding can help.

Anyway, I should probably stop trash-talking bird watching. Everyone should at least try it once — I know quite a few SFS students are recent birding converts. There’s really no better place to do it than here, too. I’ve seen the most beautiful birds here, often without even trying. Still, my love for mammals, amphibians, and reptiles will always surpass any love I could ever have for the birds.

Well, that’s about all I’ve got for you right now. After all this early morning birding of late, I’m pretty exhausted. Tonight we’re headed to the pub; tomorrow we’re going (I have no idea how to make this a verb) turtleing with Tim. Tuesday morning we leave for Chillagoe, and there I’ll be getting my first taste of the Australian Outback for three days and two nights. I’m incredibly excited, and I can’t wait to write all about it when I get back.

Pictures of happiness.

(Those are my feet. In the creek. In non-water shoes. It’s the same for me, even here in the rainforest.)

Things are gearing up a bit here at the School for Field Studies. We’ve been spending more time in class and we’re receiving more assignments. Though this place is much more manageable academically than Swarthmore on the whole, I do still have to keep on top of my studies. Thus, I’m getting a bit less time to blog. I’m also still trying to figure out how to tell you about my days without writing overwhelmingly long posts. So, instead of learning how to strike that balance, I’m going to discard words entirely (okay, mostly) and just post a few pictures that make me particularly happy (here’s to hoping the internet cooperates with me).

We set up microbat traps a few nights back and caught a bat! Though you can’t really see it, I can assure you it was completely adorable.

Okay, maybe forest fires don’t make me happy, per se, but I did think this fire was especially cool as it was happening on both sides of the Gillies. Here in Queensland, they have controlled fires every dry season. There’s a  fire just over the hill from us right now, which produces some pretty cool snow-like ash (don’t worry, the fire department assures us that the fire is controlled and won’t reach us).

After walking down to the creek to take pictures for our rainforest types presentation, my group (that’s Amanda on the left, Erin on the right) took a nice long afternoon break on some rocks in the middle of the creek. This picture was a challenge though — I had to precariously balance my camera on one rock, set the timer, and then make it across the falls to sit on the same rock as my friends. Worth it, though.

This picture was taken last Sunday at Lake Eacham, one of the local crater lakes. It was an absolutely beautiful lake to swim in. According to one of our professors, they don’t even know how deep the lake is. It just drops off about 20 feet out from the shore; one second you’re swimming and you can see the crystal-clear bottom and the next it’s just a black abyss. Totally awesome.

And that’s about all I’ve got for now. If I add any more pictures, I’m pretty sure this post would literally take days to publish, and I’d like to avoid that. Next time I’m hoping to write about our impromptu Spirit Week here at the centre (and yes, I’ll share a Crazy Hair Day picture).

Middle of nowhere.

After a day-long lecture/activity on GIS (geographic information systems), I was inspired to create my own blog-friendly maps of my location here in Oz. First, let’s take a look at where the Centre for Rainforest Studies is on the continent:

Oh, you say, that’s not so isolated. But you would be wrong. When you get more than, say, 60 km from the coast line in most parts of Australia, you’ve officially hit nowhere. Here, look closer:

There’s Cairns in the top right corner, and there’s me at the point of that arrow. Now, that’s only an approximation of my location. Here at SFS Australia, we don’t actually have an address. We have a P.O. Box in town and an agreement with the local grocer for package deliveries. If you really wanted to be specific, I’d tell you to turn right between markers 33 and 34 on the Gillies Highway. We technically have a government-created access road, which runs a couple kilometers off the Gillies and is actually acknowledged on Google Maps:

That grey line would be the access “road.” That’s not its exact path at all, so clearly Google doesn’t know everything. I’m not totally certain on the scale for this image as it’s been copied from Google Maps and then edited, but if you want to check out the SFS location for yourself on Google, you can try this link here. You’ll have to zoom in pretty darn far to see us, though!