In Conclusion

By: Kathryn Wlodarczyk

This trip, like all good things, must come to an end. Our trip will conclude this Wednesday evening when we take our seats at Punjabi Palace, one of Brisbane’s finest Indian restaurants, for what will be our last supper. On the surface it might appear to be a typical dinner for me: I will eat a somosa (or two) and then proceed to drink a gin & tonic (or three) but this is where the similarities will end. It will be different because it will be the last time we take over an establishment of any kind in Australia. We will be going our separate ways and it will be sad. Our last dinner together will also be a cause for celebration because we are all still alive and therefore none of us broke Andy’s number one rule of the trip.

I believe that in surviving Australia we have truly cheated death. I must say that I was a touch apprehensive about what I might encounter when I arrived in Australia because so many things here will kill you. Ten out of ten of the world’s most poisonous snakes can be found in Australia. The Box Jellyfish can kill you in fifteen minutes or less and picking up a seemingly harmless cone shaped shell on a beach in Queensland can prove to be fatal. There are also extremely poisonous ticks, fish, spiders and octopi. Suddenly sharks and crocodiles seemed like the least of my problems; at least you can usually see them coming. That being said, I like most things about this country. Seriously, how could one dislike a place that employs an entire unit of people dedicated to the conservation of koalas? Only once have I seen a koala outside of the confines of a zoo, but it still pleases me to know that, wherever they are, they are being protected. While the koalas remained elusive, we managed to spot a platypus in the wild, which, I am told, is a very rare occurrence, and we have also stepped over or very close to a few deadly snakes. While nothing negative happened as a result of our snake encounters I found it much more rewarding to search for kangaroos and emus, which are sizeable and generally not threatening.

It is true that I came to Australia for my lab science credit, but I got so much more than that from this trip. Earning the lab credit involved snorkeling, hula-hoops and three very long hours observing ants but, luckily for me, it did not involve actually going in a lab, just a small conference room and only for an hour. This was very pleasing to me, as was the large amount of time that we were able to devote to leisure reading. Most of us were usually reading, especially during our long bus rides, days spent lying on various beaches, and the weeks without internet. I have finished six books, Jared has read five, and Dick has completed an impressive eight books this semester. I can say with confidence that none of us will be able repeat that during our senior year when our work load will pick up quite a bit.

We may have increased our chances of getting skin cancer later in life but we have also greatly expanded our minds. We know about the various ways in which Australia’s endemic flora and fauna have adapted to the harsh climate, just as we have learned to adapt to the expensive and slow internet; Australia is a tough place. We have written essays on the similarities and differences between the Australian and American political systems. We can now name four past and present Prime Ministers of Australia, which is exactly four more than we were able to name before we arrived in Australia. This intensive area study of Australia has also exposed to us the knowledge gaps that we have about our own country. We know more about Australian Aboriginals than most Australians, but most of us know shockingly little about Native Americans. By the end of the trip we learned so much about Australia that we were able to semi-effectively play the Australian version of Trivial Pursuit. See if you can answer this Science & Nature question: What is a euro?

Adequately expressing all of my feelings about Australia, especially while I am still in Australia, is something that is not easy for me. We have traveled to many places in Australia yet we have not seen very much of it. It would take much more than a semester to see all of the things worthy of being seen and appreciated in Australia, but I have seen more than enough to be able to say that I love Australia. It is a great country, and not just because it is full of beer-guzzling, politically incorrect and beautifully bronzed people. I hope that I am able to come back to Australia soon and return many more times during my life. Although we are not Australian, it still seems most appropriate to leave you with the some lines of poetry written in 1908 by the Australian poet Dorothea Mackellar titled ‘My Country’. Australia is not my country but I love it as if it were and this verse quite accurately sums of many of the things we have experienced and will miss about Australia.

I love a sunburnt country,

A land of sweeping plains,

Of ragged mountain ranges,

Of droughts and flooding rains.

-Kathryn

Answers:

The Prime Ministers that we can name are (in no particular order) Julia Gillard, John Howard, Gough Whitlam and Kevin Rudd.

A euro is a type of Wallaby.

Wayne, our first Australian bus driver,
taught us the Kookaburra song around the
campfire in the Blue Mountains.

At the Blue Mountain overlook

Boomerang practice with Uncle Wayne

Kangaroos at The Living Desert

At the Parliament House in Brisbane

Brisbane skyline at sunset

Coral at Heron Island

A Full Range of Emotions

By John Sweeney

As you may have noticed, we have been travelling about in Australia for some time now. Such a thing is not meant to last, for there are many things in Australia that could kill a person. Luckily though, that didn’t happen – Andy’s no. 1 rule for the trip was “nobody die.” Our travels are coming to an end, and soon we will all be back home safe and already tan for another summer.

Since you last heard from us, we have done VERY little. We spent a few days at a small eco-lodge in the Glasshouse Mountains, just outside of Brisbane. It was a really nice place for a quick, relaxing get-away (as if our lives weren’t easy enough), and I think I speak for everyone when I say that all of us really enjoyed our time there.

Unfortunately, we had one last exam to take. Saturday night (our first night there), and Sunday morning was spent somewhere in between studying and enjoying the much-anticipated peace and quiet of the eco-lodge. Sunday afternoon, at precisely 1:07, we began our Natural History of Australia exam on our terrestrial studies. This meant that we had to bring together information that we have learnt over the whole trip and connect it; we learnt about rainforests and Eucalypt forests, as well as about Australian geology, geography, climate, and biodiversity (I am surely forgetting much, much more). After the test was complete, we considered ourselves very much done with the semester; later that afternoon, Andy and Philip invited all of us to their eco-lodge villa for the whole group to celebrate the end. Suffice it to say, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

Because it was raining almost the whole time, most of us stayed within the comfort of our (very) cozy rooms and covered porches throughout our stay at the eco-lodge. Most of my Monday afternoon was spent playing an older version of Australian Trivial Pursuit. Considering both that the game was older than all of us, and that it was Australian Trivial Pursuit, it was very difficult, but it was definitely rewarding to be able to answer some questions using what we have learnt over the course of the last few months.

Before getting on the bus to head back to Brisbane, a few of us were talking about the program being over. I think it’s safe to say that most of us are excited and very ready for home, but I’m getting the impression that many of us are in denial that the program is actually about to end. We have had everything in our lives planned for us, we have gotten to see so many things and meet so many people that I know I will never forget, and we have learnt so much in these last few months that it’s a little hard to imagine leaving. Well, it’s actually very easy, as I’m imagining leaving right now. This trip has been the experience of a lifetime and I cannot wait to share my experiences with my family and friends back home.

Finally, I’d like to personally (and probably on behalf of all of us students) thank: Andy – for leading this trip and ensuring that we all got as much out of this program as possible both educationally and experientially, not just one or the other. Philip – for supporting both Andy and us students, as well as always keeping a good attitude for the whole trip – it most definitely would not have been the same without you. And last but certainly not least, Nat – for seeing to it that every aspect of the trip went smoothly and comfortably, for making sure that we were properly fed, for occasionally keeping us in line, for putting up with our sometimes unwarranted complaints and rowdiness, for generally being awesome, and for doing everything while also being pregnant. Thanks also to all the students for making the trip absolutely incredible. I can’t wait to hang out with everyone back in the states.

Maybe if I don’t end this blog entry, this program won’t end either? Now I’m just dreaming…

See ya later,

John

From the Green Mountains to the Glasshouse Mountains

By Delaney

Friday we spent our last full day in Lamington National Park. In the morning we were able to aid Susan, our guest entomologist, in identifying the many types of insects we had trapped the previous day. Under the microscopes we saw a variety of organisms, including diptera (flies, mosquitoes, and gnats), dermaptera (earwigs), and siphonaptera (fleas). To identify the different types of insects under the microscopes we used a dichotomous key, which reminded me somewhat of the choose-your-own-adventure books I used to read as a kid. Although my group didn’t find much a few students actually identified more unusual types of coleoptera (beetles) that Susan said might be added to the “Hall of Science,” a collection of insects she manages at the Queensland Museum.

After spending the morning getting up close and personal with the insects through the microscopes we all returned to the camp ground for lunch and then went off on our own adventures for a free afternoon. Some students hiked along the Wishing Tree Track to Moran Falls, a beautiful waterfall only a short trek away in the lower elevated Eucalypt forest. Others stuck around the campsite to study for our last final and pack up for leaving the next day. I strolled over to the neighboring O’Reilly’s Resort with Melanie, Ryan, and Sara to enjoy yet another stunning sunset over the Green Mountains.

That evening we had a slightly more eventful dinner than usual. Not only were we treated to a special dessert that Lily, our caterer’s adorable seven year old daughter, coined “Methyl Pie,” but our presence was graced by a particularly mischievous possum that had been creeping around the campground for the past few days. Just as soon as we all settled down into our lawn chairs after devouring yet another delicious meal we were startled when we noticed the possum was not simply creeping around or near our dinner remnants but was actually inside the huge mash potato pot. Nat, our fearless leader, lifted up the pot, possum and all, and brought it over to the group, where we all used our newly gained skills to identify the creature as a black bush tailed possum.

The next morning we all raced against dark, threatening clouds to take down camp before it started raining. Luckily we packed up everything and loaded onto the bus just as soon as the rain began and were off to the Glasshouse Mountains before eleven o’clock. The drive out of Lamington was stunningly beautiful. The small, one lane road we drove on cut through the dense rainforest and provided us with a few glimpses of sheer cliff faces and mountain peaks through the trees. During one part of the drive we passed through an ecotone, a transition zone between two distinct landscapes. In our case, the dense, lush rainforest grew on the left side of the road and the sparser Eucalypt forest on the right. We spent most of the afternoon driving to the Glasshouse Mountains, watching the land change from rainforest, to Eucalypt forest, to pasture lands, and back to lush rainforest again as we approached our destination.

The Glasshouse Mountains consist of a series of oddly shaped mountains, which are actually the cores of ancient volcanoes. The mountains were named by Captain James Cook, whom we have learned quite a lot about in our studies, because he thought they resembled glass furnaces back in England. Upon arrival we also learned about the Aboriginal significance of the mountains as important ritual sites.

After a week of grunge and grime, military showers (or no showers at all, for some), and an unfortunate lack of hand soap or mirrors in the Lamington rainforest we were all shocked and ecstatic to see our new “Ecolodge” accommodations. Compared to camping in the woods, this place felt like the Hamptons. The accommodations consist of two old railway cars where we eat and cook our food, an old church converted into a little lodge, and the quaint “Bungalow” where Andy and Philip are lucky enough to stay. Most of us are sharing spacious and rustic rooms with lovely views of the surrounding forest. Some of us even get our own bathrooms, a luxury we have not enjoyed for quite some time. The property also consists of an orchard and herb garden as well as trails leading into the Glasshouse Mountains. Every new place we go I always think that nothing could possibly top where we have already been, yet this trip continues to get better and better; the Glasshouse Mountains Ecolodge is certainly no exception. Although our time here has mostly been spent studying for our final exam on terrestrial biology I cannot wait to explore the surrounding area and relax as we spend our final days in Oz.

Despite my reluctance to admit it, soon we will have to say goodbye to all the Eucalypts and kangaroos, the constant bug bites and minor sunburns, the laidback Aussie culture, the looming threat of all the lethal flora and fauna that surround us, and even the beautiful Southern Cross, which has become like the Big Dipper for me here in Australia. I know I will greatly miss this sunburnt country.

Sara, Ryan, Melanie, and Me in front of Green Mountains

Trail leading from ecolodge into Glasshouse Mountains

One of Glasshouse Mountains—once the inside of a volcano

Excuse Me? Did You Just Say Pooter?

By Rebecca Snow

Hello again family and friends. It's Rebecca once again to tell you about some more of our adventures. Lamington Plateau has been treating us wonderfully so far and we've had miraculously sunny skies all week. Wednesday morning we woke up to do presentations of our forest surveys. We compared the rainforest and the Eucalypt forest both quantitatively and qualitatively and discovered some fascinating comparisons. For instance, we learned that the difference between the environments necessary for the two different types of forest to grow have a couple of very distinct features. Here at Lamington, we sit on the remnants of a stratovolcano. By definition, these volcanoes alternate eruptions of basalt and rhyolite. Basalt is softer, erodes faster, and is more nutrient rich, while rhyolite lasts longer and contains very little nutrient. Because of these properties and the properties of the plants in each type of forest, rainforest is only found on the basalt soils, and Eucalypts can be found on the rhyolite or on basalt where rainforest doesn't out-compete it. Also, the rainforests are found at higher altitudes here because that is where the majority of the rain falls. This leads to two very different kinds of forests. In the Eucalypt forest, because it is drier and the soil is nutrient poor, the trees which can grow in that environment are much more limited, leading to a forest with one or two dominant species. This contrasts starkly with the rainforest, which has such a diversity of species that only an expert can identify them, and none of them are dominant. The canopy in the rainforest is much thicker than in the Eucalypt forest, as well. This is because light is a limiting factor in the rainforest but not in the Eucalypt forest. Therefore, the rainforest trees have to spread out their leaves to catch as much sunlight as possible, while the Eucalypt leaves dangle downward, trying to deflect sunlight so as not to overheat. We learned about all these contrasts and more during our presentations.

After lunch the four small groups headed out to collect data for their final science projects. As we learned in the presentations the next day, the projects were all very different. One group went out looking at epiphytes, the plants that grow on the sides of other plants, and investigating their size and where in the forest they were located. Another group looked at birds, and specifically at whether they prefer to feed in open areas or in the rainforest canopy. The next group looked at fungus, lichen, algae and moss (which they affectionately termed “FLAM”) and whether certain species grow on different sides of rocks in the rainforest, while the final group looked at plant growth under large and small trees to see if the large trees draw nutrients from the soil and stop other plants from growing directly around them (which they don't; turns out bigger trees actually facilitate growth beneath them). All these projects were getting at resource partitioning, which limits competition and increases likelihood at survival. The entire afternoon was spent collecting and collating our data for these presentations.

After dinner we went spotlighting, which is, as the name implies, when you go for a walk in the dark with a spotlight, looking for animals. We headed out along the road, down a boardwalk through the rainforest, and up to the tree top walk through the canopy. We learned the proper techniques for animal spotting: hold the spotlight up next to your eyes and look for the red eye reflection of a mammal. It's easy to be fooled by lichen and fungus on tree top branches, which often can look like the fur of an animal in the dark, so the reflections are extra important. Along the way we saw a ton of nocturnal mammals, including three kinds of possum: the ring-tailed possum, the brush-tailed possum, and the very rare mountain brush-tailed possum. Seeing this third variety of possum was particularly special because of its rarity, and because we saw quite a few of them. Also, there was a brush-tailed possum mother with its nearly grown child, walking along a branch. It was very interesting to see the maternal behavior of the marsupial. We also saw a sugar glider. Philip, always the animal whisperer, even got to see a sugar glider glide, which none of the rest of us got to see. It was a very special evening.

The next morning we woke up and went out with our newest tutor, Susan, to study invertebrates. She showed us a myriad of techniques to collect insects and other invertebrates from the bush. First was the spray technique, which entails placing a tarp under a tree, spraying the trunk with insect spray, and collecting all the dead bugs. It sounds archaic but it really worked. Drew sprayed a strangler fig that dropped several really interesting beetles and even a juvenile cockroach. We then collected leaf litter, put it in a pan, and searched through it for insects. The best part about this technique (and several of the others) was the collection method we used once we located an insect. We used a device called – and no, this is not a joke or an innuendo – a pooter. The pooter has 2 tubes attached to a glass vial. You place a tube directly over the insect you want to collect, and with the other tube, which has gauze on the end, you suck up the specimen with your mouth. It's a pretty good way of getting at a lot of the smaller insects you find in leaf litter. Everything you collect (in the pooter or from any other method) goes into ethanol to be preserved until it can be examined in the lab. A few other techniques were beating (you literally beat branches and collect what falls from them), sweeping (you sweep over branches to catch any insects on them which can fly), and the yellow pan method (when left out overnight, the pan will catch flying insects which are attracted to flowers, particularly if the flowers they feed on are yellow). After setting our overnight traps, including pitfall traps, which are vials of ethanol put in pits to let the insects fall right in, and collecting from the more immediate methods, we headed back to camp.

After lunch, our project presentations, and dinner, we headed out for another magical night walk. This one, however, was not to spot mammals (although we did see a ring-tailed possum on the way to the gully) but to go see glow worms. The glow worms are actually not worms at all but the larvae of a fly. They are predatious, and catch their prey by attracting them with their glowing bodies. They excrete sticky threads that the prey get stuck on when drawn to the light. They then turn their body lights off and eat the prey, before turning their lights on again to wait for more prey to fall into their trap. The glow worms are unique to this part of the world and generally live in gullies such as the one we hiked to because it is constantly moist there, which they need to stay alive. Scientific facts aside, seeing the glow worms is a magical experience. We hiked down to the gully, sat down facing the opposite wall, turned off our flashlights, and hundreds of fairy lights were revealed to us. The lights were strewn all across the wall. It looked like a starry sky right in front of our eyes. After having our fill we took our flashlights to get a close up view, then hiked home, tired but satisfied, to get a good night's sleep.

And on that lovely note, that's all for me. I leave you in the capable hands of my fellow students to tell you all about our final days in Lamington Plateau and in Australia. Don't worry, we'll all be home in less than a week.

--Rebecca

All photos taken by Kathryn

A Strangler Fig and the tall rainforest canopy

Epiphytes on a rainforest tree

The eucalypt forest, as seen from a distance

Rainforest Bound

By Sara Rangel

We left Brisbane for Lamington Plateau National Park on Monday, April 11^th. The bus ride was only about two hours long, and it was through beautiful scenery. We drove our way high up a mountain until it felt like we were in the middle of nowhere, but, in fact, we arrived at a camping ground and resort once we reached the top. Lamington Plateau National Park is a subtropical rainforest, and as soon as we arrived we understood the ‘rain’ part to that equation. Immediately as we began to set up out surprisingly intricate tents it started pouring rain, and didn’t stop for the rest of the day. We ploughed through it though, and ended up accomplishing a lot within the first day we were there. We took a walk through the rainforest and up suspension bridges until we were at the top of the canopy of the rainforest. It was a beautiful view! During this walk we learned some preliminary information about rainforests from our lecturers, David Yates and Sarah Bell. We learned about epiphytes,, which are plants that grow on trees in the rainforest. One of the most interesting plants we learned of is the strangler fig tree. This tree starts to grow at the top of a host tree when its seeds are placed there by birds, and slowly it extends its roots down to the ground. Once it is established it actually ‘strangles’ its host tree to death. Once the host tree is out of the picture, the strangler fig tree is hollow on the inside. We looked at an example of this tree with the hollow inside, and it was amazing! This first rainforest walk was a great way to introduce us to our surroundings.

Later on our first day, we broke into two different groups (A & B) so that our activities for the rest of the week were done in smaller numbers. Group A went to the rainforest to set animal traps for the night. We set three different kinds of traps: wire, Elliot, and possum traps. Early the next morning Group A went out to look at the traps and identify the animals that were caught. There were many subtropical antechinuses, which are little marsupial mice. They were surprisingly cute! Other than that we caught a lot of bush rats, which were interesting, but also known for their pungent smell.

Both group A and B started field research studies on Tuesday. Group A studied the structure of the rainforest while group B studied the structure of the Eucalypt forest. The purpose of these studies was to compare the two forest types to see the differences in biodiversity. Also on Tuesday, both groups started to plan a second research project. This project is aimed at looking at rainforest plant and animal competition. Each group is doing something completely different and it should be interesting looking at all of the results. Some people are looking at fungi and lichen, others are looking at bird behavior, and still others are looking at epiphytes in the rainforest. All of these projects should turn out great results!

By the way, ever since the first day in Lamington it has been sunny and beautiful; we got lucky with the weather yet again. It is wonderful being out of the city and in such a remote and stunning area of Australia!

---

In all the Nooks and Crannies

By Allison Perry

Sand.  Sand is coarse, malleable, sticky, wet and quite abundant.  On Heron Island, sand is everywhere.  I scratch my head, there is sand.  I lay down in bed, there is sand.   Despite its annoying tendencies, sand is such a large part of everything that is Heron.  It tells a story of the island; where it has been, where it is going.  From simply feeling the sand between your toes you can tell which side of the island you are on and which way the wind blows.   Heron Island would not exist if not for sand.  I would not have had one of the most amazing weeks of my life if not for sand.  So sand, even though you will still be with me long after our return to the mainland, I appreciate you.  Grudgingly.

Heron Island is a coral cay.  This means that it is made up of millions of grains of ground up and eroded coral.  While living, coral creates the backbone of reefs and allows for all of the biodiversity to be sustained. When it dies, it becomes sand-like rubble, the major component of islands on the reef.  However, this cay construction means Heron is an island always on the move.  Grains of sand are different sizes depending on whether they reside on the windward or leeward sides of the islands.  This is the result of varying wind and wave pressure that affects areas on the island differently.  Throughout the week we all discovered what it felt like to be a piece of coral: we were constantly being buffeted by strong winds and an even stronger current.

It’s funny how quickly time passes here.  It probably has something to do with the saying that “time flies when you’re having fun”; so I guess, when it comes down to it, I would rather have time fly than not be having any fun.  On Heron Island, another week passed before our eyes.  We learned, ate great food, performed biology field studies, snorkeled, ate more food, watched turtle hatchlings erupt from their nests, and then had some dessert.  Even school here did not feel so school-like: when learning largely consists of snorkeling and taking reef walks, it is nearly impossible not to be engaged.

As the weather gods would have it, our last couple days at Heron were our nicest.  However, this beauty was slightly marred by the fact that the exam for the marine biology portion of our natural history course was set for Saturday morning.  This caused Friday morning to be spent in a state of studiousness, with (of course) a break for morning tea.  However, our work was all made worth it during the afternoon. 

Snorkeling has been something we’ve all had to become accustomed to during our week here. Even though I had begun this week fairly confident of my snorkeling abilities, I can now say that I am an extremely proficient snorkeler.  Friday afternoon we were able to go out on our second boat snorkel trip, and let me tell you that you can in fact tell when people are smiling underwater.  In short, it was amazing.  With the sun shining we were able to see further than we ever had before, and what was there took my breath away.  Or maybe that was just from the strength of the swells...  The boat allowed us to be on the outside of the reef flat, where life is more abundant and colorful.  Everything seemed bigger!  Five foot long fish, massive coral growths and schools consisting of thousands, made up a lot of what was living out there. 

But of course, a snorkel trip would not be the same without seeing a shark, right?  Never fear because I saw three.  White and black tipped reef sharks are intimidating from afar and exhilarating close up.  On one of my shark spotting experiences, I was, of course, doing exactly what we were told not to do.  I was a little further away from the group and definitely not with my snorkel buddy when I decided to duck-dive down to see what was below me.  As I was diving down, I saw a white tipped reef shark.  I quickly scurried back to the surface, signaled that there was a shark below but to my dismay he had already wandered off.  Nevertheless, this got the blood pumping and I was grinning from ear to ear.  I had seen a shark!  When back on the surface, the group compared dangerous animal sightings, a grand total coming to four sharks, a massive sting ray and, although it may not be particularly dangerous, a Green Turtle.  Energized and thrilled by an amazing snorkel we were then ready to get back to the books.

Well, almost.  Before I could get back into the studying mindset, I had to go to the resort and see what was happening in the island’s other time zone, a mere five minute walk away.  While there I had the “obligatory” fruity cocktail, sat by the pool and chatted with some other tourists.  At which point, the sun began to set.  Sunsets on this miniscule island are beautiful, and this one was no exception. 

The ultimate form of multitasking: Dick doing a little
 studying while taking in another beautiful sunset.

In the middle of dinner, a Heron Island researcher told us that he was going to release some laboratory-born turtle hatchlings into the ocean.  Naturally, we forgot about our food and rushed outside where we were allowed to hold and take pictures with the hatchlings.  Almost everyone got a shot with a turtle, and when it was time, we walked to the ocean and cheered them on as they took their first few strokes in the water.

Kathryn and John getting up close and personal

 with one of the laboratory green turtle hatchlings.

A hatchling turtle, from a different clutch than

 the laboratory bunch, meeting its first wave.

 At which point, it actually was time to study, pack and go to bed.

As fate would have it, Saturday morning dawned as beautiful as the day before.  After some last-minute reviewing, we sat down to our exam and came out of it relieved to have another test behind us.  With a little beach time, a light lunch, and some essential beach-side group shots, we were reluctantly ready to leave Heron.  We popped some very necessary Dramamine pills and then hopped onto the catamaran that was to take us back to Gladstone and from there, a bus to Brisbane.  Almost twelve hours later, with a quick stop in Gin Gin, Queensland for a bite to eat, we made it back into the city.  Our reunion with Brisbane was bittersweet; although it held promise of laundry facilities and internet access, it meant leaving behind our little piece of paradise.

All of us doing the sign for shark, taught
 to us for snorkeling purposes.

A last glimpse of the Heron Island jetty,

 that’s Australian for dock.

Sunday gave the group a much needed free day and a chance to catch up on the endless emails that had been accumulating.  A few brave souls made a day of it by visiting Brisbane’s Gallery of Modern Art, but most of us simply luxuriated in the quiet peace of doing nothing.  Showered, rested and with the sand out of almost every nook and cranny, we are now ready to face everything that Lamington Plateau has to offer.

One of the exhibits at the Gallery of Modern Art.

Sleeping Sea Turtles

By Emily Katzman

            Greetings from Heron Island, on Australia’s Great Barrier Reef! I am writing this blog entry from the top bunk of a bed in the Heron Island Research Station, located on a coral cay—a relatively small, unfixed pile of calcareous coral skeletons—60 kilometers off the Queensland coast. The best word I can use to describe Heron Island is ‘paradise.’ The consensus among us is pure happiness: we’re taking in sights that could rival a postcard, eating like royalty, snorkeling daily, and learning about the largest coral reef system in the world. Yet only two weeks remain of the Australia spring 2011 program, and most people are having a difficult time accepting that reality.

            Heron Island is paradise, but it is not immune to bad weather. Queensland is experiencing the rainiest summer in over one hundred years, and we’re feeling the effects out here. It was pouring the entire afternoon yesterday, but we didn’t let the water interfere with our plans (more on that later). I am pleased to report the sky cleared up in the evening, and it was clear enough to view the sunset, and later, the arch of the Milky Way bend across the entire night sky.

            Wednesday was quite a day! We began with a lecture by marine biologist/conservationist Tim Stevens on the ecology and identification of reef fish. There are 92 families of bony fish and 19 families of sharks and rays on the Great Barrier Reef. We learned key characteristics of only a few of the most common families of reef fish, including wrasses, parrotfish, butterfly fish, damselfish, groupers, and gobies. Then we immediately put what we learned in that lecture to practice, in a snorkel on the reef flat. The coral was spectacular. We saw colonies of branching coral that extended far past the eye could see, and brain corals the size of boulders. The current was incredibly powerful though, and grew increasingly more so throughout the course of the snorkel. Attempting to swim against the current in the direction we were supposed to head was futile, and most groups abandoned the cause after about 45 minutes.

An afternoon snorkel provided us with another chance to observe the reef ecosystem we’ve been learning about. This time we took a boat to the leeward side of the island for a drift-style snorkel to a spot on the reef edge called Blue Pools. Drift snorkeling took a lot of the stress and frantic fin flipping out of our snorkeling experience: the boat dropped us off and we simply let the current push us along the reef edge until we reached Blue Pools, a deep but protected inlet along the edge. The boat followed us from a distance and picked us up when the snorkel was over. While all this sounds quite pleasant and serene, I must stress that while we were suiting up and riding over to our snorkel spot, we were caught in a torrential downpour that changed the color of the water surrounding the island from crystal aquamarine to dreary shades of gray. The cold, ominous weather lowered the group morale a bit, but once we were in the water and snorkeling, I (and I’m assuming most people) forgot all about the miserable weather. 

Jumping into the water and taking the first look at my surroundings took my breath away because the depth of the water and my inability to see the bottom shocked me. Once Melanie (my snorkel buddy) and I reached the walls of coral that compose the reef edge, we immediately observed that there were even more animals there than on the reef flat, and some were different from the usual suspects we saw on the flat. We saw a metre-long grouper on the sand, delicate orange anemone fish, various flashing rainbows of parrotfish whizzing past, and dazzlingly yellow butterfly fish pecking delicately at the coral. My personal favorite is a species of damselfish: they swim in very large schools that look like diffuse glittering blue clouds below. They’re only a few centimeters long and an electric sky blue color. These fish are not timid like most of the fish we observed, which gave me the opportunity to get a good look at them. Most people in the group were lucky enough to see a powerful reef shark swimming below. I was keen on the shark, but the highlight of my snorkel was the two loggerhead turtles I observed. Drew and Ryan have both informed our readers about the turtle hatching events we’ve had the privilege of witnessing this week. After seeing the vulnerable, four-centimetre long hatchlings scurry through the gauntlet of gulls and ghost crabs out to sea, seeing an adult turtle was quite gratifying: it was a reminder how beautiful, massive, and powerful those hatchlings will become if the 1/1000 odds of surviving past infancy weigh in their favor. The giants we observed moved so slowly and gracefully in the water, and were prehistoric looking, like dinosaurs. They had the entire group mesmerized, to say the least.

Later that night we had the privilege of hearing a lecture on sea turtles by Tim Harvey, the manager of the Heron Island Research Station and founder of the Sea Turtle Foundation. Before coming to Heron Island, I had no idea I would ever in my life be able to watch sea turtle hatchlings scurry to the sea. But apparently, North Queensland has some of the most robust sea turtle populations in the world; the beaches of Heron Island are the nesting grounds for thousands of sea turtles each year. Heron Island is home to three of the world’s seven sea turtle species: the Green, Loggerhead, and Hawksbill sea turtles.

While the sea turtle population on the island is stable compared to other places in the world, it has declined significantly over the past 90 years. From 1923 until 1932, Heron Island had a turtle soup cannery on it. Then, after the tourist resort was established in 1935, a popular holiday pastime here was turtle riding. I’m not joking: tourists used to wrangle nesting turtles on the beach, flip them over so they were incapacitated, and then come back the next morning to attach bridles around their necks that allowed people to literally surf on the turtles’ backs.

I’m happy to report the tourists on the other side of Heron Island (we’re on the research side!) don’t partake in such activities anymore, though turtles are still faced with numerous threats that extend far beyond the seagulls that pick them off at birth: many are struck by boats or caught as by-catch due to certain practices of the modern fishing industry, including the use of purse seines and trawlers. Others are injured or killed by renegade fishing line or ghost nets (old, unattached nets that float around and indiscriminately trap everything in their path). Rubbish and runoff are harmful to turtles too. Many turtles suffer from a disease called fibropapiloma, which is caused by pollution runoff from hog farms. Other sea turtles have been found with rubbish in their stomachs or caught around their necks. Sea turtles have existed for approximately 120 million years, but because of human impact on the marine environment, they are threatened by extinction.

Like Wednesday, Thursday was an academically and experientially stimulating day on the island. After brekkie Tim gave us a lecture on the life histories of reef fish. This lecture explored the varying reproduction strategies of different fish in the coral reef ecosystem. We learned that sharks and rays are gonochorisic, meaning they do not undergo sex change throughout their lifespan. In contrast, most bony reef fish are hermaphodites. Protogynous fish are born female but may become male when they reach sexual maturity. Protoandrous fish are the opposite, changing from male to female. One fascinating example of a hermaphodite reef fish is the wrasse, from the family Labridae. These fish have a complex social system in which one male lives with a harem of females. If the male dies or is removed from the group, the dominant female will undergo a sex change and replace the lost male. This transformation occurs incredibly rapidly: only a few hours after the male has been removed, the dominant female begins showing male colors. Within a few days she is a fully functional male. 

During our time on Heron Island, students have been responsible for undertaking two field study research projects. Most of Thursday morning was dedicated to going into the field to gather data for our various research questions on reef fish. Then we presented our findings that afternoon. I was in a group with Melanie, Delaney, and Rebecca. We were interested in reef fish feeding frequency and how it relates to different species’ defensive strategies. In order to collect data, we went snorkeling on the reef flat and compared the feeding frequency of butterfly fish to that of damselfish. Our observations did not support our hypothesis, because we found that while the two species feed in quite different ways, they both feed more or less constantly. Our research question was interesting and relevant, but we had a difficult time collecting data. This project gave me renewed appreciation for marine biologists, because collecting data on fickle and/or timid fish while battling a strong current and keeping track of the tide schedule is not easy!

I was interested to see what other groups found in their field studies. Marni, John, Hanah, and Katy observed fish schooling behavior, and whether or not it was correlated to coral type. Their observations did not support their hypothesis; fish do not tend to school more on one coral type than another. Anna-Brooke, Ryan, Allison and Drew studied butterfly fish feeding strategies, and whether or not the fish prefer a certain type of coral. Their field observations supported their hypothesis; butterfly fish prefer branching coral, probably because the coral is small enough for their minute mouths. The research question for Dick, Jared, Kathryn and Sara’s group was similar, only regarding parrotfish. They wanted to know what type of coral parrotfish prefer to eat. They found overwhelmingly that parrotfish prefer branching coral. The parrotfishes’ preference—like that of the butterfly fish—may relate more to mouth shape and structure than anything else. 

After the sunset and dinner came the highly anticipated night snorkel. This may sound like a dark and dangerous activity, but don’t worry readers, we were looked after very carefully. To prepare, we suited up, attached glow sticks to our snorkels, grabbed our underwater flashlights and made our way down to the jetty. From there we were dispatched in the harbour in groups of five or six, and led by an expert. Night snorkeling is completely different from snorkeling during the day (especially when it’s sunny). It’s difficult to explain what I mean, but it just feels different: instead of seeing a busy reef with countless species of fish swimming in all different directions, at night it is still. That does not by any means imply the reef is lifeless at night, but the fish that are typically darting about during the day are asleep. Also, the nocturnal fish are much better at hiding and making their presence unknown. The coral looks different too; it is an eerie, ghostly white at night, because the sunlight—which gives it so much of its color—is absent. The various snorkel groups all saw giant sleeping sea turtles. One person described them as small submarines on the sand bottom. Our presence woke some of the turtles, however. Drew and Dick had a special moment with a turtle that swam with them, and then came right up to them on the surface and looked them both in the eyes. At night one can observe coral polyps feeding (it looks like they’re blooming), plankton floating, and fish sleeping. Looking up at the crisp night sky and seeing the Milky Way, the Southern Cross, and the crescent moon, and then putting my face into the water and observing a huge puffer fish on the Great Barrier Reef, provided me with a reminder that 1) I am in Australia, and 2) I am a very small human being in a very large ocean, world, and universe.

            Having moments like that make me love and value traveling so much. With only 11 days left in Australia, I have been reminiscing about our time spent learning about this spectacular country. We have seen so much beauty—from the orange and red hues of the outback, to the aquamarine shades of the Great Barrier Reef. I can only imagine the hues of green our eyes will take in during our time in the rainforest this coming week!

Reef Madness

By Ryan Kaszynski

April 4th and 5^th

Monday was our first full day on Heron Island. After breakfast Derek gave us a rundown of the myriad number of marine animals that can kill you, ranging from the nervous system debilitating poison of the cone snails to the instant and severe pain of the Box Jellyfish sting. After the lecture the group broke away from our morning teatime to walk the beach with Derek. By way of the Pisonia forest we arrived at shark bay beach, where sharks, rays, and an occasional turtle cruise by in the shallows. Heron Island, Derek told us, is bisected by the tropic of Capricorn, which means on our short walk across the island we had crossed from a Subtropical classification to Tropical classification. The area of land in these two classifications is constantly changing, due to the oscillating landmass of the Coral Cays. The sediment buildup that occurs between the shore and the reef wall eventually forms a new beach, while the other side of the island erodes away. The resort, which shares the island with our research station, had to construct seawalls to slow the pace of erosion to preserve its buildings.

Several species developed unique relationships to overcome the low nutrient soil and high competition of reef life. We learned how the white hooded noddy nests in the branches of the Pisonia tree, whose seed burrs stick into the feathers of the noddy. The seed laden bird flies from island to island and eventually is tangled with too many burrs to fly.  The decaying body of the noddy provides the necessary nutrients for the Pisonia to grow, which in turn makes more nesting space for the noddies. On the reef, we learned about a symbiotic relationship between a gobbie and a shrimp. The shrimp, which has poor vision, digs a burrow while his housemate, the gobbie, keeps watch with keen eyesight. The shrimp keeps one antennae on the gobie at all times so he can hide from preditors.

All these species depend on the energy created by the photosynthetic algae zooxanthellae in coral tissue. When the coral is stressed, it expels the zooxanthellae and turns white. The symbiotic relationship between coral and algae, which is the primary producer of the ecosystem, underpins all animal life on the reef. Coral only grows at a rate of 7 meters vertically every 1000 years, which means that the pace of sea elevation due to global warming will soon outstrip the growth of coral. Sunlight will have difficulty penetrating the surface to reach the zooxanthellae, and the coral will die. Indonesia and Papua New Guinea boast 500 to 600 distinct species of coral, while the Great Barrier Reef only contains 300 distinct species of coral.

Flora and fauna have hurdles beyond the geographic isolation of an island. Derek picked up a monkey-puzzle nut, which thrives in a mangrove environment. “Just because a species can get to the Island,” Derek told us, “doesn’t mean it can survive there.” We witnessed the struggle for survival firsthand when our group came across a baby turtle making its way towards the ocean in the light of day. We all cheered as the baby turtle slipped into the water and swam out to sea. One of the screaming gulls scanning the shallows spotted him, however, and in a moment of horror, plucked his body from the water and carried him off inland. Our piece of mind was rattled again later that day by the sound of baby turtles smashing into the kitchen roof.

After an introspective lunch, we laboriously pulled on our blue, full body, skintight sting proof suits and took to the water to collect data for our projects. Despite the lack of a full range of motion, we went about collecting data on Sea Star population density. In our presentation that evening, we explained how the Blue Sea Star, of the family Linkea, has the unique ability to asexually reproduce by splitting away from an arm. While other starfish, such as the brown sea star (family Naroa), have the ability to regenerate lost arms, a disembodied arm of the Blue Sea Star has the unique ability to generate a new body disk. One presentation examined sea cucumbers, and another examined populations of various classifications of coral, such as branching, digitated, massive, soft, solitary, and plate.

 On Tuesday we said our goodbyes to Derek. Tim Stevens, our new professor, began his afternoon lecture explaining Australia’s Exclusive Economic Zone, which encompasses a vast amount of ocean territory ranging from -10 to -50 degrees longitude. Tim told us that the reefs we have today originally came from low-lying hills. As the ocean rose and flooded these areas coral began to form and decay, accumulating as sand after passing through the gut of the parrotfish. This sand elevated the flooded area until it became a beach. Because coral have had to adapt to sun exposure, a common ingredient in UV sun block is derived from coral mucus. However, too much exposure to elevated water temperatures or abnormal amounts of fresh water can lead to coral bleaching. Bleached coral can be examined on a 1-6 scale, which depicts 1 as ghostly white and 6 as dark in color. Coral growth is hindered by farming runoff, which gets washed into the ocean in the wet season and circulates among coral populations via the South Pacific Gyre.

The North pacific Gyre, South Pacific Gyre, North Atlantic Gyre, South Atlantic Gyre, Indian Gyre, and Antarctic current make up the general flow of water in the earth’s oceans.  Southern humpback whales travel on the Antarctic current to birthing grounds in the Great Australian Bight, then south to the feeding grounds off Antarctica. Many sea turtles use these gyres to travel great distances from their birth beach to their feeding area and back. Due to high mortality rates, fishing rigs were required to use what fishermen call the Deck Hand Elimination Device, a metal chute that diverts turtles away from the catch. Because coral reefs are so biologically diverse, the practice of purse netting and other unselective fishing techniques has had disastrous effects on the ecosystem. Between climate change, runoff, and overfishing, humans are overwhelmingly contributing to the decimation of the coral reefs.