I'm a research assistant stationed on Gough Island in the South Atlantic Ocean. We are conducting research for the RSPB on birds living on the island. We will be here until late September or early October 2011. A map of the island can be found here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/niclemaitre/5381019736/
Clouds are Gough's party piece, I have never seen such awesome ones as I have here.
Well thus far August has lived up to it's reputation as the month with the worst weather. Over the last two weeks we have only had a couple of days where it has not rained a lot. When it isn't raining, the wind has been blowing. All of this has played merry hell with my work schedule, I have been trying to do the final round of herbicide spraying at Snoekgat, Diesel Cove and Crane Point. I can't spray the herbicide when it is raining because that is just like pouring it into the sea and when it is windy, all I succeed in doing is covering myself in poison and getting none where it needs to be. Thankfully on Friday the weather was good enough and I was able to complete all the spraying.
Snow again.
We have even had some snow again to go with the bad weather, unfortunately it fell on Tuesday night and then rained almost continuously on Wednesday, only stopping for long enough for me to take the picture above and the panorama at the top of this post. The bad weather has meant that I have had plenty of free time to play with Hugin (hugin.sourceforge.net), which is simply the best, most user friendly panorama creator that I have ever found. I used it to make the panorama at the top and with a little help from Photoshop, the one below as well.
The view from the roof of the Base.
Sadly, along with the bad weather comes more cabin fever. Mornay has been on form this week. He refuses to talk to anyone, sulks in his room and is incredibly rude to everyone. John and Leonie have spoken to him on more than one occasion, asking that he at least attempt to be civil but he simply ignores them. He singles out Michelle as a particular target because he used or still does have a crush on her and she is not interested in him at all. I really don't care what he does with the rest of his time on the island, if he wants to spend it sulking in his room, I could not care less but he really does at least need to be civil. Manners cost nothing. The Department really needs to step up their psychological screening programme because I cannot understand how someone as obviously broken as he is got to the island.
GLS data from a logger recovered from a Skua. Gough Skuas, as with the Marion ones seem to spend lots of time off the Cape coast
Oh well, it really is not long now, the ship will be here in just over a month and in just under two months we will be docking in Cape Town. How nice that will be.
An Atlantic Petrel, winkled from its burrow, ready to be measured, weighed , ringed and tagged (Photo by Michelle)
Well first of all, many apologies to those of you expecting your regular Monday morning fix of my ramblings but last night was forty days until the ship arrives, forty days with only the seven of us on the island. So we had a big party. I had planned to write this post earlier yesterday but I was stuck in the kitchen, cooking. It was my turn to cook and so I had to make all the food for the party and didn't get a chance to come and burble inanities to you, dear Faithful Reader.
Burrowscoping. My right arm is in the burrow up to my shoulder, I am holding the camera end of the burrowscope in my right hand (the silver tube is the battery pack) and the yellow box in my left hand is the monitor showing the images from the camera (Photo by Michelle)
It is now Monday and for some reason I do not have a hangover, I can't come up with a reason why. Things got a little crazy last night and because Robyn was there, I am sure that there will be lots of photographic and video evidence. Not that we will ever see it because getting photos out of Robyn is like getting blood from stones. Hopefully by the time we leave she will have relented and shared her photos with the rest of us.
A GLS mounted on the leg of an Atlantic Petrel (photo by Michelle)
August has lived up to its reputation as the worst weather month thus far. There was only one day last week that I could get to do some of the final round of herbicide spraying, every other day was either too windy, too rainy or both. I really hope that the weather will let up a little so I can finish the herbicide work (the last time EVER!). Otherwise in the gaps I have been doing some burrowscoping to recover more of the GLS on the Atlantic Petrels.
Michelle with an Atlantic Petrel. Sometimes their burrows are too deep to grab them and you have dig an alternative entrance and chase the bird out the other side.
Another reason to hope that the weather lets up a little is that cabin fever is setting in again. We all take it hard, especially now that there is so little time left on our own but since we are all experiencing the same feelings, we try our best to put on a brave face and at least pretend that all is well, even when we know that it is not. I say we but there is one exception: Mornay. Mornay is like Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, except that the Mr Hyde personality is the most prominent one rather than the Dr Jekyll. He throws tantrums, refuses to eat with us, sulks in his room, doesn't greet people and is generally a thunder cloud of unpleasantness. John and Leonie, for some unfathomable reason, continue to humour him, saying that he is depressed and homesick and needs his space, as if none of the rest of us aren't. If anyone of the younger people in base was to behave as he does, we would be called into a meeting with John and Leonie and be told to act like adults and grow up. Oddly enough it seems that the most mature people on the island are the most immature. The next thirty nine days can't pass fast enough.
The preliminary data from a GLS recovered from an Atlantic Petrel. The red dot is Gough. It appears that they spend much time off the coast of Brazil and also at the the Falkland Islands. The lines heading out of the picture to the north are probably noise and will be removed once the analysis is complete.
Sunrise over the Admiral and the Midshipman sea stacks
These days I look for any excuse to get away from Base, it is becoming increasingly difficult to stay sane and stay in Base everyday. The last time that I managed to get out for more than a day was back in April when we visited the Glen. As I said last week, communicating with the outside world is what keeps me sane, so thank you all you Faithful Readers.
Clouds here on Gough are amazing
A while ago John Cooper asked that I visit the Giant Petrel colony on the center of the west coast of the island in order to count the number of adult bird overwintering there. They are quite worried that the Giant Petrels will feed on the mice carcasses during the eradication and suffer secondary poisoning. Which is why we had to establish how many were here during winter to determine how many may be at risk. I had tried to visit the colony two weeks past but had been forced to return to Base because of Prince. This time was different, I put my foot down and any thoughts that Robyn may have had of accompanying Michelle and I were quashed.
On "Dragon Ridge" above the GP colony
The planned trip was not all business and no pleasure, Michelle and I planned to do a circuit of the northern end of the island passing Barren Dome, Nigel's Cap and Expedition Peak before returning to Base. We arrived at the Giant Petrel colony in perfect weather, counted the birds and retired to the tent for supper. We then discovered the gas cylinder was almost empty, so after a dinner of cold Two Minute Noodles we turned in for the night. Sleeping at the GP colony is a task, the sheltered campsites all cling to the hillside and at best are big enough for one person. Michelle drew the short straw and got the downhill side of the tent, I got the flatter position on the uphill side. I must have slept because I remember waking up but it was a very long, very uncomfortable night.
The aptly named Saddle Island
No night at the GP colony would be complete without a storm and this night was no different, after about 2000, the wind began to blow and good grief, did it blow. At its worst it must have been between 60 and 80kts. The entire tent lifted as the wind crept under the edge of the fly. Fortunately we had pitched the tent behind a boulder which sheltered us from the worst of the wind, the full force of it, as it smashed into the tent like an express train, would have collapsed the tent and left us with a handful of tattered nylon.
Michelle chancing her hand with a GP
The next morning, the wind was still blowing a gale so we abandoned plans to see the rest of the island and decided to beat an ignominious retreat to Base. I can safely say that I have endured the worst conditions that the Cape has thrown at me, I have spent nights out in full storms in the Hex, rescued hikers in snow storms, dealt with horizontal hail on Table Mountain while looking for tourists, but I have never, ever, experienced wind like here. We simply could not walk. The route back from the GP's follows a ridgeline which caught the full force of the wind. At times it was impossible to walk, crawling was the only option. You had to time your movements along narrow sections of the ridge to coincide with lulls between the gusts, otherwise you would be small pieces scattered across the valley, far, far below. Exciting, exhilarating, yes. Would I do it again, no!
We survived, although at times it was truly touch and go, and made it back to Base after a long and tiring walk/crawl which tested my core muscles to their max. I really never ever want to experience that sort of wind again! Leonie (may she live forever and have all the blessings) had made us lunch, which was mana from heaven. Never has a toasted sarmie been appreciated so much.
A Giant Petrel
Sunset, the first one I have seen since the night before I arrived, the 14th of December...
I would like to apologize for last weeks rant, I hope that no one was offended but I really did need to vent and sadly the most convenient direction was directly at you, dear faithful reader. It is now a new week and so let us put all that behind us and move forward.
Have a nice rainbow, by way of further apology. (To make all of you jealous, this is the view from my room)
As I am sure you can already judge, this week has been better than the previous one (although being tried by the Spanish Inquisition would also have been better than last week). The weather has been great, allowing me to get out of Base for long periods. I have been doing burrow counts on the three Atlantic Petrel transects. A transect is an arbitrary line 150m long drawn across a representative piece of land. Along the transect line - alternating from side to side, like the squares of a chessboard, are equal sized squares called quadrats. Each quadrat is a 10m x 10m square in which I must count every burrow. The burrows that are the correct size for the species of interest, in this case the Atlantic Petrel, must be checked for occupancy with the burrowscope. It is extremely painstaking and tiring work. Happily it is all finished now and I will never ever have to do it again.
An Atlantic Petrel at home in its burrow. My camera got very muddy taking this, thank goodness it is washable
I have decided that Gough Island is outside of reality, adrift in a sea of strangeness. At times it has felt as I am drowning in this sea. Having contact with reality, the outside world, is truly like coming up for air. It refreshes me and helps to keep me sane. So thank you all for your phone calls, emails and any of the other hundreds of ways that you have all helped me to keep sane. I really do appreciate it.
A word of warning, I'm not in a good mood as I write this. Not at all. I was looking forward to three nights far away from Base and seeing the northern end of the island but that did not happen.
This was shaping up to be a good week and then it wasn't anymore. I had planned to visit the Giant Petrel colony on the west coast of the island to count the number of adult birds in the colony during winter. Since I needed to be there in the evening to get an accurate count this was going to mean a night out. I asked Michelle to come along because she is really the only person on the island who enjoys hiking for hiking's sake. She said she'd come in her next off duty period which happily coincided with a four day spell of reasonable weather. Since the weather was looking good we made tentative plans to hike further and maybe do a circuit of the northern end of the island which we have never seen.
All was going well until Robyn decided to invite herself along. Now the only reason she wants to come along is because she suffers from the Fear Of Missing Out or FOMO and not because she actually enjoys walking; in fact she has on several occasions told us how much she dislikes hiking. Anyway this was still OK because at least she is relatively fit. She would ask Prince to work a double shift and come along. That was until she decided at the very last minute that she would rather stay and let Prince come along "because it was his turn" (I really don't know where she got the idea we were taking turns). Now this was more of a problem because Prince is not fit but etiquette dictates that we can't just say he can't come along, so we set off on Saturday morning for Gonydale.
We arrived at the container, having taken four hours to cover five kilometers and Prince announced his legs were cramping and he would have to return. Prince is a very inexperienced hiker and we could not let him return to Base by himself and so we had to turn around and come back to Base with him. Seven hours in the drizzle and we had managed nothing.
Now this wouldn't bother me so much if it was just for fun and I didn't have work to do but I did and I was not able to do it because I had to play nurse-maid. For some reason people on this island feel that they are entitled to come along simply because they are on the island too. The others on the island have more free time on their hands than I do but, with the exception of Michelle, they are not prepared to even attempt to organize a trip further than a few hundred meters from Base. However, the moment I plan something, everyone and their dog feels that they are entitled to come along, like Remoras stuck to shark, even if the reason I am going is for field work. It would be OK if they were fit enough not to be a hindrance but they aren't. You can't sit in Base all day eating steak for breakfast and lunch and expect to be able to walk around the island. I am getting so tired of accommodating everyone for the sake of their feelings when they don't reciprocate at all. In the real world I would not invite my hypothetical non-hiking roommate for a four day hike in the Hex River mountains and he would not expect to be invited along and furthermore he would not be offended by it either. However come to an island and suddenly everything rational is suspended and the irrational prevails.
Gough Island is clearly not part of the real world and I am looking forward to returning to reality even if it means leaving this incredible, beautiful, unique, place of unparalleled wilderness behind.
Lastly, to those who have stuck it out through this week's tirade, I apologize for being so negative but it is difficult and would be duplicitous for me to pretend to be happy. Also, apologies for no pictures but I haven't taken any this week.
The shenanigans of last week are behind us and everyone seems to be back on track. Spending such extended periods in close quarters doesn't make for amicable relationships and everyone was quite on edge and irritable. Thankfully, the better weather this last week has helped significantly with only a few miserable days here and there allowing us to get outside and enjoy the sunshine.
A lenticellular orographic cloud to the met staff, pretty to me
I have said goodbye to the last of my captured Moorhens, releasing the final seven from the large aviary on Friday. None of them seemed the worse for their ordeal although they had all lost about ten percent of their body weight in the six weeks since capture. This was not unexpected as they are not used to being confined in such large numbers in such a small area, rather like us! Anyway, they all survived and I have shown it is possible to keep Moorhens confined for six weeks. Which means that one further obstacle in the way of the plan to eradicate the mice has been removed.
The sunlight hours meter makes a interesting subject, I just wish I had a lens that could do this too.
John Cooper, one of my several bosses, has asked me to visit the Giant Petrel colony on the south west coast of the island to count the number of adult birds present during winter, to give them some idea of the numbers to expect during the mice eradication which is also planned for winter. He would of course ask this at the end of the longest spell of good weather we have had since April, just as the rain returns. Hopefully there will be a another break in the weather soon and I will be able to visit the colony and have something new to write about.
High cirrus cloud on a beautiful day
As the end draws nearer, both the feelings of anticipation of returning home and the reluctance to leave are increasing. It will be truly wonderful to come home and see everyone and everything but life here is (mostly) blissfully easy and stress free with no worries about anything really. Being on an island far removed form the hurly-burly of real life makes it easy to ignore things that used to be meaningful (but weren't really) and to have the freedom to concentrate on those things that really do matter. Maybe I'll stay, I quite like it here...
Just kidding I miss you all too much to stay here and life has to continue, doesn't it? It will be good to be home and no longer have to take vitamin supplements intended for pregnant women. I'm not sure what I am less of, pregnant or a woman, but scurvy is best avoided so eat them I will.
First the emancipation: I got to free the moorhens from the little cages on Thursday, they had all survived their captivity relatively well, almost all had lost around 10% body weight, some more, some less. But survived they had. Judging from the squawking and flying feathers in the early hours of the mornings these past few days they have begun to return to their territories, only to find that they have been occupied in their absence and the new occupants are not over joyed with their return. I just hope that they will settle down soon because their favourite time to fight outside my window is at about 4 am just when you would rather be sleeping.
Red sky in the morning - Shepherds warning. Should have paid more attention...
Next the argument: Leonie decided to really let her hair down on Wednesday night and got very drunk, which not a problem, we have all done it at some point. At some point in the evening she thought she saw John making some sign behind her back and at this point Mount Leonie erupted, spraying burning rage everywhere but principally at John. She threw the worst tantrum I have ever seen. Three year olds behave with more maturity when you take their toy away. I actually cannot believe that an adult can behave that way. John's parentage, his mothers fidelity, John himself, his leadership skills, everything was fair game. It mattered not one iota that Robyn, who had seen the whole thing, maintained that Leonie was misinterpreting what had happened. This continued for ages and eventually with no end in sight I went to bed. Unfortunately, walls here are thin and my bedroom is close to the bar so I was still able to hear the screaming. To John's credit he had apologized and was simply letting it all wash over him, doing nothing to provoke her further. Eventually, Leonie left the bar and went to her room and I managed to get some sleep. We did not see her until two evenings later at supper on Friday when she apologized to everyone and put an end to it.
