Volunteers, when left to their own devices

June 17, 2013

Addendum: Since the photo captions (where the photo credits usually go) aren't showing up unless you click on the picture, I thought I would add here that all these pictures were taken by Angus Kennedy. Most were also edited by Angus, but the three without Angus's ASK watermark were kindly guest-edited by Rebecca Sullivan.

One of my fieldsites was pretty close to Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park, which is a spectacular and very famous Australian tourist destination. My two volunteers, Mitch and Angus, had never seen Uluru before so we decided to take a day off and go check it out.

"Pretty close" is, of course, a relative term. My fieldsite closest to Uluru was probably about 80 km away as the crow flies, but there aren't many roads around there so the driving distance ended up being over 250 km. That's pretty close if you consider that the closest pub was 100 km away and the closest grocery store over 400 km away.

It was worth the trek, not only to see a world-famous landmark, but also because our trailer needed repairs. And just to drive home the point, once at Uluru we got a flat tyre that then also needed to be repaired. So I spent the day being a Responsible Adult, hanging out at the mechanic's shop waiting. But first I dropped Angus and Mitch at the base of Uluru so they could spend the day checking it out. They spent the day doing cool, interesting stuff. This is what I found later, when I was looking through Angus's pictures:

*Click the images to enlarge them in a lightbox and see the captions.*

Photographing elapids while staying alive

June 10, 2013

Last summer my girlfriend-at-the-time and I were making weekly efforts to get out and find some of the interesting reptiles that live around Canberra. On one of those trips, an unsuccessful effort to find tussock skinks (Pseudomoia pagenstecheri) and highland copperheads (Austrelaps ramsayi), Peri took this picture:

My and my snake tongs. Namadgi National Park, Australian Capital Territory. Photo by Peri Bolton.

I really like this picture. I didn't think anything of it when Peri posted it on Facebook. But then this happened:

People I don't know complaining about my use of snake tongs...

Australia is, famously, home to many deadly snakes. It's the only place in the world where, if you come across a snake in the bush, that snake is more likely than not venomous enough to kill you. This is somewhat inconvenient for those of us who enjoy actively seeking out snakes in the wild.

That's why, before I moved to Australia in 2011, I bought some equipment to help me look for snakes in a place where reaching around logs and under rocks with your bare hands is really, really stupid. So I bought snake tongs (seen in the picture above) and a collapsable snake hook. Traditionally, snake tongs are used like this, for catching snakes, and snake hooks are used like this, for manipulating them. Snake tongs have fallen out of favour because if you don't know how to use them correctly, you can easily squeeze too hard and break the snake's back.

I have no idea how to use snake tongs correctly. I come from Ontario, where there's only one snake species with medically significant venom, and it's small, slow, and extremely shy. I have no experience or training with deadly snakes of any kind, let alone the fast, agile, alert elapids that live here in Australia. But snake tongs are also exceptionally useful as arm-extensions, allowing to you poke around and move small, light objects without risking life & limb. I use my snake tongs for manipulating the environment, not the snakes themselves.

Unfortunately, my inability to catch snakes here in Australia means that I can only photograph them in situ. Sometimes that can work out alright, like this photo of a highlands copperhead:

Highlands Copperhead (Austrelaps ramsayi). Namadgi National Park, Australian Capital Territory, 2012. — Highlands Copperhead (*Austrelaps ramsayi)*. Namadgi National Park, Australian Capital Territory, 2012.

But more often than not all I end up with are pretty crappy shots.

Sometimes the snake just won't sit still:

Mulga Snake (Pseudechis australis). Taylorville Station, South Australia, 2011. — Mulga Snake (*Pseudechis australis*). Taylorville Station, South Australia, 2011.

Sometimes the snakes are almost completely covered by vegetation:

Mating pair of Eastern Brownsnakes (Pseudonaja textilis). Near Burra, South Australia, 2011. — Mating pair of Eastern Brownsnakes (*Pseudonaja textili*s). Near Burra, South Australia, 2011.

And sometimes the snake is in a really awkward, inaccessible spot, as well as being covered in vegetation:

This Blue-bellied Blacksnake (Pseudechis guttatus) was at the bottom of a steep, narrow ravine. Hunter Valley, New South Wales, 2012. — This Blue-bellied Blacksnake (*Pseudechis guttatus*) was at the bottom of a steep, narrow ravine. Hunter Valley, New South Wales, 2012.

I shouldn't blame this entirely on my very poor venomous-snake-handling skills. It's also because of my very poor photography skills. Here are some in situ shots Angus Kennedy took of some elapids we came across during fieldwork:

Strap-snouted Brownsnake (Pseudonaja aspidorhyncha). Anna Creek Station, South Australia, 2011. Photo by Angus Kennedy. — Strap-snouted Brownsnake (*Pseudonaja aspidorhyncha*). Anna Creek Station, South Australia, 2011. Photo by Angus Kennedy.

Western Brownsnake (Pseudonaja mengdeni). Anna Creek Station, South Australia, 2011. Photo by Angus Kennedy. — Western Brownsnake (*Pseudonaja mengdeni*). Anna Creek Station, South Australia, 2011. Photo by Angus Kennedy.

Addendum: People who's reptile-identification skills I highly respect reckon that both these snakes are Pseudonaja aspidorhyncha. I remain unconvinced, but, if you have one, you are welcome to send me your opinion.

Finke River Waterholes

May 26, 2013

As I mentioned previously, The Finke River is famous for its permanent waterholes. According to some signage in Finke Gorge National Park, there are 8 permanent waterholes along the Finke. They were an essential source of water to the Indigenous peoples who lived along the river and continue to be essential sources of water to local wildlife. They also make for pretty picturesque campsites.

We spent the first two weeks of the 2012 field season following the Finke River. Not by choice, but rather because the main 4WD tracks running through Henbury Station more-or-less follow the Finke. Along the way we camped close to three of the Finke's permanent waterholes.

Snake Hole

Snake hole was our first campsite, the one mentioned here. Unfortunately, it did not live up to its name, and there were no snakes to be found.

There was, however, a wealth of birdlife to be found and Rebecca Sullivan, one of my volunteers, took the opportunity to practice using her new camera. She got some great pictures:

Yellow-billed Spoonbill (Platalea flavipes). Photo by Rebecca Sullivan. — Yellow-billed Spoonbill (*Platalea flavipes).* Photo by Rebecca Sullivan.

Little Corella (Cactua sanguinea). Photo by Rebeccan Sullivan. — Little Corella (*Cactua sanguinea*). Photo by Rebeccan Sullivan.

A flock of budgies (Melopsittacus undulatus) coming in to drink. Photo by Rebecca Sullivan. — A flock of budgies (*Melopsittacus undulatus*) coming in to drink. Photo by Rebecca Sullivan.

The budgies drank by just dropping into the water! Photo by Rebecca Sullivan.

Running Waters

Running Waters is a permanent waterhole on Henbury just south of Finke Gorge National Park. According to the map, this isn't actually the permanent waterhole, but just downstream of it. Because 2011 and 2012 were such wet years in Central Australia, the waterhole has expanded greatly.

Here, also, Rebecca found good opportunities to photograph some birds:

Chestnut-rumped Thornbill (Acanthiza uropygialis). Photo by Rebecca Sullivan. — Chestnut-rumped Thornbill (*Acanthiza uropygialis*). Photo by Rebecca Sullivan.

Rainbow Bee-eaters (Merops ornatus). Photo by Rebecca Sullivan. — Rainbow Bee-eaters (*Merops ornatus*). Photo by Rebecca Sullivan.

Boggy Hol e

Boggy Hole lies within Finke Gorge National Park, north of Running Waters. Between the two waterholes the 4WD track essentially is the Finke River, which can make for some pretty interesting (and rocky) four-wheel driving. Sometimes it was pretty slow going.

A photograph of Eleonor photographing Boggy Hole. Photo by Rebecca Sullivan.

Here's an idea of what our campsite was like:

Boggy Hole at sunrise with our campsite in the bottom right. Photo by Rebecca Sullivan.

A closer look down on our campsite. Photo by Rebecca Sullivan.

And this is the view from my swag in the morning:

Sunrise on Boggy Hole and the rockface behind it. Photo by Rebecca Sullivan.

The water in these waterholes was freezing. By midday the air temperature would heat up into the 30's and during that time we were out scrambling over rocks looking for dragons. Thankfully, the water was able to keep our most refreshing commodity cool until we got back:

Cold beer after a hot day, the most valuable part of camping next to a Finke River waterhole. Photo by Rebecca Sullivan.

This is more than just 69ing, this is 88ing

May 20, 2013

Due to the time difference between Canada and Australia, when my family sends me e-mails throughout their day, I get them in one big stack first thing in the morning. These e-mails usually contain irreverent updates about life in Canada meant to make me homesick so that I return to them after I finish my PhD. It works rather well. One day I found the following e-mail sitting in my Inbox:

Now, maybe that subject line would be cause for concern if my dad was not my dad. But my dad is the kindest, sweetest, gentlest person I know, and there was no chance anything unpleasant lay within the body of that e-mail. Actually, it turned out to be pretty cool. This is what my dad found:

That's two earthworms lined up anti-parallel. It gave me flashbacks to first year undergrad biology. There, while preparing to dissect earthworms, we learned all about their reproduction. The wide, smooth band on each worm is the clitellum, which contains both male and female reproductive organs. Each worm lines up its clitellum with the sperm receptacle of the other worm, which is located between the worm's clitellum and its mouth. Then, each worm passes a packet of sperm from its clitellum to the other worm's sperm receptacle. It turns out my dad got a picture of that as well:

The two white globs inbetween the worms are sperm packets.

After the sperm packets are exchanged, the worms separate and each secretes an egg packet from its clitellum. The worm slides the egg packet along its body until the egg packet reaches the sperm receptacle, and then the whole mess of eggs and sperm (and rather a lot of mucus) slides off the worm. If you want more details, you can find them here, rather uncomfortably explained in the first person.

I have never seen this in my entire life. In one morning, my dad came across not one pair of worms, but five! Those two pictures above are of two different pairs of worm-lovers! Here's another:

Was there something in the air that day? In the soil? Also, my dad probably could have found more worm-lovers. He quit looking because he "was starting to feel a little awkward."

Notice how each worm's butt is still in a hole? These worms aren't crawling around like after rain. The fifth pair of worms were shyer and shot back into their respective burrows ("like rubber bands") before my dad could get a picture. Worms only half emerge from their burrows to mate! They keep their lower-halves indoors to make for a rapid escape if necessary.

My dad clitellum-blocked them.

Stuck in the world's oldest river

May 19, 2013

According to the world's most reliable source of scientific information, tourism promoters, the Finke River is the oldest river in the world. This is not backed up by the world's second most reliable source of scientific information, Wikipedia, which seems to be of the opinion that multiple Central Australian rivers have equal claim to the title. My question is can you really call a dry, flat expanse of sand a river?

Rebecca Sullivan, one of my volunteers, fixing dragon nooses in the middle of the Finke "River".

Downstream, and I use the word loosely, of Finke Gorge National Park, the Finke River runs (again, figuratively speaking) for about 100km through a private pastoral lease called Henbury Station. Henbury was our first stop to look for dragons during my 2012 field season. The oldest man-made structure on Henbury is a log cabin that's served as the Henbury homestead for over 100 years. It's a beautifully preserved single room log cabin and a phenomenal piece of Australian outback history. For most of the past 100 years Henbury has been a working cattle station and the homestead compound has been built up accordingly around the log cabin. The homestead also sits right on the bank of the Finke. This is the Henbury homestead at sunrise, the Finke riverbed is barely visible in the far left (look for the dry sand peeking through the trees):

Henbury Station homestead with the Finke River at left. Photo by Rebecca Sullivan.

When we arrived at Henbury, after some quick introductions, the station manager offered to show us to our campsite so we could start looking for dragons right away. The first step was to get across the Finke. The station manager took off in her Hilux, and I followed in the ANU Landcruiser. Ten minutes into the first step of the first thing we had to do on our first day of fieldwork and I watched as her wheels started to spin in the sand of the Finke. She was bogged! Since I was still free, our first idea was to recover her Hilux by attaching it to our Landcruiser with a snatch strap and having me accelerate in reverse:

We quickly abandoned this recovery method as the strap was looped around the Hilux's trailer ball and that is most definitely not a good idea. Instead, the station manager sent for two station hands and a bunch of wooden planks to put under the tires and give them some traction. We decided to try and get around her so we could start setting up our campsite. Despite having reduced our tyre pressure to as low as I was advised was safe with tube tyres, without the benefit of the well-worn tyre tracks we quickly got bogged as well:

The ANU Landcruiser, bogged in the Finke River within an hour of getting to the field.

One thing I have learned about Australian culture: if you ask an incredulous question, such as "will we be able to get through that soft sand?" and the response is "Ah, you'll be 'right, mate!" your chances of being "'right" are, at best, 50/50. Anyway, to make a long story slightly shorter, the third vehicle that came to help us also got stuck, making that a total of three vehicles stuck in the Finke River.

The third vehicle, bogged behind ours. This picture makes it look like it wasn't even in 4 wheel drive mode!

It took eight people, a lot of digging, several malt beverage bribes, lots of splintered boards, and finally a couple of sand ladders, which are basically giant-sized cheese graters, to get us out of there.

The station manager's Hilux was the first to be freed and get across the Finke.

Freeing our Landcruiser took a little more liquid motivation.

By the time we got to our campsite it was almost sunset, and the day's "dragon hours" were over. The "dragon hours" are those hours when the sun is hot enough for the dragons to be out basking. They're about 10am - 4pm at the start of September. So instead we opened the last of our beer (our entire case of Coopers - 24 bottles - was consumed that day) and went for a swim. The Finke River, though mostly dry, is famous for its permanent waterholes.