What I Will Miss About Puerto Rico

As the anger begins to resurface at the two-faced behaviors that I have experienced through my daily interactions with a particular individual, I feel that I must take time to refocus my thoughts on the positive aspects of my time in Puerto Rico, which are listed below, in no particular order.

·         A fresh produce section growing right in the back yard complete with mangos, papayas, bananas, pumpkins, cherry tomatoes, corazons (also known as custard apples), plantains, and pomegranates

·         The quick healing powers of the aloe vera plant

·         Friday night magic shows with tricks designed for a “four-year-old”

·         I can see the ocean from the patio

·         No one owns a dryer

·         Little lizards constantly scurrying about

·         Frequent visits from beautiful tropical song birds and magnificent raptors

·         The funny way that one barking dog causes the entire neighborhood to erupt in yelps

·         The absurdity of the idea that roosters only crow at dawn

·         Working outside on my laptop

·         Good people, who make up the vast majority of the team

·         Big group dinners with lots of food

·         Mastering the arts of grilling and baking desserts in a toaster oven

The Color and the Shape

Just like home, I love eating breakfast at the kitchen table, while watching the birds flitting about in their morning routine.  At home, their primary focus is the bird feeder, which is fastened to the patio railing, directly in view through the French door.  The birds rummage through the tropical bushes and fruit trees, perhaps, seeking shelter, just as much as food.  The strange songs and striking color patterns often catch my attention and, one day, I finally grabbed the Puerto Rico bird identification field guide, so that I might put some names to these faces.

Some of the most frequent and abundant visitors are the Black-faced Grassquits, whose coloration is true to their name, with the exception of the females, which are strictly olive colored.  At times, the males’ buzzy trill can be nearly deafening, like a swarm of cicadas buzzing in the heavy summer heat.  Furthermore, these little birds, which are about half the size of a House Sparrow, are quite bold, as they shoot overhead into the rafters or casually hop within a short distance of the open doorway, in spite of an audience around the patio table

Similarly, the endemic Puerto Rican Troupial makes its presence known with a loud, clear call, which sounds to me like the first three syllables of “miercoles,” Spanish for “Wednesday.”  This bird draws further attention to itself with its bright, yellow body, contrasted by its black head and wings, with a large, white stripe along each.

 

Upon flipping through the field guide, I learned that there are eight dove species in Puerto Rico, which was shocking to me, as there is only one in New England.  One of the primary hang-out spots for White-winged Doves seems to be the neighbors’ rooftop, from which I have witnessed several massive lift-offs.  True to their name, a white wing patch is clearly visible on their folded wings, distinguishing them from other doves.  The other species that I have seen most frequently is the Common-ground Dove, which is a third of the size of the White-winged Dove that is about as large as the Mourning Doves of New England.  This small bird has a speckled, black pattern on its outer wings, and is unmistakable when in flight, with its rufous-colored under-wings.

Hummingbirds also regularly visit the flowering plant pictured here, though it has been difficult to make any positive identifications, due to the speed with which their wings move, quickly carrying them from blossom to blossom.

Still, other species have been reminiscent of home, such as the Greater Antillean Grackle, which is similarly iridescent, but also spreads its tail vertically, like a fan, in a mating or territorial display.  The Yellow-winged Blackbird must be a cousin of the Red-winged Blackbird, as they sing a similar high-pitched, buzzy trill and the wing color is the only noticeable difference to me.  Often, I hear the unmistakable screeches of Red-tailed Hawks in the distance, and once, a couple soared in circles just across the street.  Turkey vultures are also quite prominent, especially in the southern dry forests, and are easily identifiable with the clear distinction between their dark brown secondaries and bright, white primaries.

New Skills with a Hint of Nostalgia

With the acoustic files double-checked and the humpback whale mating season winding down, my new assigned task is research to build up further educational resources for future programs at the center.  This information should become useful aids for learning about not only humpback whales, but also, the history of Puerto Rico and its people, the ecology and species diversity of the island and surrounding waters, and its geographic and climatic features. 

The object of today was to create a catalog of collected seashells.  This was only the second time that I have used a camera that is not strictly point and shoot, so I found putting setting adjustments into practice to be quite challenging, especially without knowing which buttons or dials made these changes.  The first fifty or so pictures taken by my acoustics' partner and me were either black or blinding from the flash.  We eventually became more comfortable, after lots of fiddling with the settings and downloading the user’s manual, and created clearer, identifiable pictures.

Once we had completed photo shoots with a small line up of shells, we commenced the identification process.  I found myself really appreciating the library of identification guides in the small book shelf at marine station in Ireland, since, now, there were none at our disposal.  I used a combination of Google images, websites with uncertain credibility, and scientific-based websites for cross-referencing.  Pictures may be worth a thousand words, but I feel that they don’t always capture the subtle detail necessary to make a positive id.  However, I was hard-pressed to find any sort of physical description for the majority of our specimens.

The work did bring me back to the marine station, as I remembered sitting at a lab bench in front of a microscope after a long day of surveying and hiking, trying to figure out how an alga that looked so distinctive could take an hour to identify.  It always felt so good, so rewarding, especially after that length of time, to declare with certainty that Latin name...and continue onto another specimen.  Ah, those were some good times!

Crystal Clear Caribbean Waters

We awoke early on Monday morning, packed up the car, and headed off for a half day trip to Steps Beach.  Our destination of Rincón, Puerto Rico was over an hour’s drive away, which provided me with the opportunity to view more of the island.  One major emphasis on the research project and the courses being conducted here is how everything is interconnected, which arose as a discussion during the car ride.  The boss and another intern explained to our two new students that the numerous mountain ranges on the island divide it into seven ecological zones, which, as a result, create vastly different climates, landscapes, and ocean current patterns, among other things.  This is what causes northern Puerto Rico to be like a rainforest, as it experiences downpours throughout much of year from trade winds off of the Atlantic Ocean.  Conversely, in Guayanilla, where the center is based, the mountains block out much of this rainfall, creating a dry climate and constant sunshine during the majority of the year.  Now, I had a picture to fill in the blanks of this ecology lesson, which I had also received.  I don’t believe that the mountains are quite as high as the snow-capped giants of the western United States, but they do look dramatic, rising up from this small island and towering over the villages far below.

Once again, I was excited to return to the ocean, which seemed to stretch on forever, uninhibited by land in its westward direction.  Palm trees and other tropical vegetation grew along the edges of the narrow beach, gently leaning towards the water.  Pelicans flew overhead in v-shaped flocks comprised of three individuals.  Occasionally, one would swoop down from the trees and glide along the water line until it was nearly skimming the surface, likely searching for its midday meal.  The beach itself is named for its rock formations below the water’s surface, which drop downwards in steps away from the shore, having been carved this way by the furious waves that pound the surf.  I was fascinated even by the few algae species and sea snails that I found atop the rocks left exposed by the receded tide, since they were quite unlike those that I had become familiar with in the colder northern ocean waters.

Unfortunately, the combination of not having had a proper ocean swim in years, the constant jostling by the crashing waves, and the panic over whether or not I could breath underwater, prevented me from receiving a full snorkeling lesson, and so I remained land bound.  This was only the beginning of my frustrations on that fateful day, about which I vented the other day.  I allowed the negativity to overtake me, so that I was no longer able to enjoy the beauty surrounding me and the freedom of being away from the confines of the house.  I took a couple of strolls along the beach, studying the shore life and getting splashed by incoming waves, for which I neglected to watch in the midst of my observations. 

Upon our departure from Steps Beach, we visited the food vendor’s compact trailer for a treat of empanadillas (fried meat pies) and pinchos (kabobs).  I’ve found it quite impressive how many Puerto Ricans understand and speak English in a province where the primary language is Spanish.  Even here, the boss had a lengthy conversation with one of the servers about whales in this non-native tongue, while we waited for our food.  We took our lunch to go, as we had a schedule to stick to, and traversed back through the mountains to our home in the south.

On the Road Again

At this time tomorrow, I will be in the village of Guayanilla, Puerto Rico, commencing my first internship of 2012.  I will be working at a marine station with a Ph.D. student and other interns on a project to determine why humpback whales are showing up in Puerto Rico and how they are using this habitat, based on analysis of behaviors, photographs, and acoustics. My primary duty will be listening to the acoustic data that have been recorded on hydrophones stationed off the coast of the island for humpback whale calls.

It will be a good foot in the door, if I decide that marine biology is a field that I would like to pursue, as I will gain some valuable experience in just a month's time.

Similar to my work in Ireland, the marine station in Puerto Rico is supposed to be fairly removed from civilization with patchy and/or limited internet access, so I will do my best to keep up with blog posts!