An End Before the End

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  Caloundra, Australia
Monday, November 19, 2007

So in the end I did not last much longer than the others. It is now five days since I left Wallaby Creek. I had been there one day short of two months, though it seems like much longer. The four of us who remained, Jenn, Steph, Brendan, and myself, decided three days after the departure of Abe and Erin that we could not continue, despite our previous ambitions. It had continued to rain, and each morning, the landscape was a muddy gray obstacle to our motivation. We struggled to finish our new routes, lengthened in attempts to salvage bowers which had previously been attended by those that had gone. Three days does not seem like a long time, until you consider that we were working from dawn till late afternoon, often alone for long periods in a wood filled with ticks, leeches, and the ever-present threat of snake bite.

Early on we had been informed that with long pants and a watchful eye, snakes should not be an issue. Thus, we had been only minimally concerned about snakes and perhaps even dismissive to instruction about how to properly apply a compression bandage. Since a snake would be likely to bite us on the leg, and the remedy for a bite from a snake from this area is to immobilize the leg and apply a tight ace bandage to prevent spread of the venom through the lymphatic system, it was a source of hilarious absurdity from the beginning that the only way to survive was to immobilize the limb, but the only way to get help had been to hike into camp and ask for it. With what happened to Abe, it became clear that accidents do happen and when you are dealing with extremely venemous snakes, even ones who are generally docile and reclusive, it is naive and even negligent not to have a plan for the event of emergency and some form of communication to enable those in the field to call for help. After Abe's scary encounter, the belated purchase of walkie talkies provided only a minimal reassurance. Brendan again saw a striped snake, which was likely the very toxic rough-scaled snake (what Abe had called a Tiger Snake) and came within a few feet of it before noticing it across the path. Each of us had moments of private horror when a scurrying thing near the path, some sluggish reptile in the overcast stirred only miliseconds before being tread upon.

An uneasiness had taken over our crew, and an unflappable unhappiness had replaced our previous determination. I do not exaggerate when I say this was my most trying time at Wallaby Creek. This was due largely to the infuriating difficulty of the routes in very inclement weather, data collection in rain, smoky clothes and stinging eyes from daily drying over a badly ventilated wood-burning stove, and the increasing feeling that we were not collecting good data, due to equipment malfunctions and our own tired and unhappy minds. After everything, and with great reluctance to quit when we had come so far, we decided that the costs of continuing were too great to ignore, no matter our duty to the research.

I personally had lost faith in the program's consideration for my welfare. Despite the eventual purchase of radios, the initial lack of foresight and preparation for the relatively likely eventuality of a serious emergency, given the extent of my personal efforts and expense that had gone into the field season, in return for no pay save a line of acknowledgement in any resultant paper, meant everything to me. This, along with a disquiet that had grown in the pit of my stomach all along the field season, that had earlier been superceded and overwhelmed by the awe-inspiring beauty of the landscape and the fascinating characters of the bowerbirds themselves, proved too much. I had to leave.

The other three assistants had reached similar conclusions, and so, we reluctantly informed Linda of our decision. She was necessarily upset, since this was her research we were sacrificing, but she seemed to understand our decision. After taking down all the cameras, Brendan and I were unexpectedly picked up two days later by my uncle Neil, his dad, and my cousins Heath and Ian. I had called them the day of our resignations and since I had not called again, they took this to mean they should come down to collect me. Since we had an extra seat and Brendan was the only one packed, he piled into the car with us, and we drove to Brisbane to have a great hot meal with Neil's folks in Brisbane. (In a warm house with glass windows and everything). Then we drove to Caloundra, where Brendan stayed a couple days to arrange a flight to Melbourne to stay with his uncle there.

Meanwhile Jenn and Steph stayed behind to help Linda pack the food and perform a few last minute tasks. We are now all officially out and away from Wallaby Creek, a place I had once hoped to look back at nostalgically, but which now only awakens a general feeling of deception and unfulfilled hopes. Without a doubt I witnessed some wildlife that most humans never get a chance to see, and came to know a wild place, among a shrinking number of wild places worldwide, that I would otherwise never have even visited, except for the opportunity provided by the Wallaby Creek bowerbird project. Nonetheless, I feel that my position as a volunteer field assistant was repeatedly taken for granted and even abused, my health was treated with a cavalier attitude, and I for one am very glad to be among my family here in Caloundra, relaxing and returning to normal life. I still feel extremely exhausted, despite several days of rest, but I am sure this will pass. I am planning to leave for Sydney in a week with Jane and Ian, and to eventually travel to Melbourne. The one positive thing resulting from all that has happened is that now I will be able to travel for several weeks, to see some of the continent, and still be back home in time for Christmas, which I am very excited about. For right now, though, I am perfectly content to go sit down on a comfy sofa and watch a good movie with family. May you all have the opportunity to do likewise in the very near future.