Humpback Whale Festival

All of the interns and the boss piled into the rental van, crowded by all of our equipment to journey to Rincón’s Humpback Whale Festival.  Actually, the festival seemed more like a craft fair, as vendors had their artistic creations of jewelry, glass figures, food, and wooden pieces on display, although many did include the likeness of the humpback whale on or among their items. 

Our role was to educate the public on humpback whales and their importance to Puerto Rico, and to engage them in the research being conducted at the center.  In order to better demonstrate the work and to take advantage of being at one of the surveying locations, we set up the tracking equipment, including a theodolite and a pair of large, heavy, marine-worthy binoculars. 

Having not been as immersed in the research as the longer-term interns to effectively communicate with the public, I was able to focus my attention on learning and practicing field skills.  Using the naked eye and binoculars, two to three other interns and I scanned the sea for anything out of the ordinary that might indicate a humpback whale.  We were on the lookout for common behaviors, such as breaching out of the water, shooting water from a blowhole, slapping pectoral fins, slapping tail, or displaying fluke.  Having never seen any of these behaviors before, I was uncertain what to look for in this large oceanic expanse with several kilometers of visibility and little training; however, it’s one of those things that one recognizes when one sees it.

We continued in this way for several hours, with breaks of course, until a downpour replaced the beating hot sun, which drove us under cover and left many of our possessions soaked.  In spite of not having seen a humpback whale all day, this signaled the end of our time here, and we gradually sorted, dried, and packed our things for the return trip to the van.

Around the Barrio

The barrio looks ragged.  Tropical greens are overgrown and twisted together, like miniature rainforests in between houses that resemble squat, concrete boxes, barricaded by iron gates.  Some are tattered and run-down with possessions scattered around the front yards, while others are double-stacked boxes, manicured with fresh paint.  Trash lines the sidewalks and Latin music blares from the passing cars, just like back home.  Stray dogs wander the streets and take a rest on the side of the road, looking incredibly dejected.  Meanwhile, nearly every home seems to have resident dogs hurling themselves at the gates and fences to deter passers-by from setting foot on their turf. 

It was about a twenty minute walk to the bakery, where we struggled to order bread and pastries with butchered Spanish and fingers pointed to what we wanted.  The clerks seemed to be slightly amused by this, yet also, perhaps, jaded by the ignorant English speakers in a Hispanic province. 

I neglected to think about exactly how hot and humid Puerto Rico would be.  I was primarily focused on the prospect of whale research and the ocean.  However, a short walk was nearly unbearable, as if it were already the peak of summer, even though it’s still only March.  I also forgot about the bugs down south, but the mosquitoes aren’t nearly as ruthless as those that I’ve encountered in the woods of Vermont.  When I did trail work in Vermont a few years ago, the mosquitoes, assisted by black flies, ate rings around my legs, just above the edges of my wool socks. 

I’m analyzing, on average, a hundred spectrogram frames an hour.  I’m sure that will improve, as I become more confident in identifying sounds, or even just the visuals of the frequencies, instead of spending so much time hoping that sounds will become more recognizable with persistent back-to-back repetition.  I’m finding it challenging to spend the entire day staring at a computer screen, even though I was just doing exactly that at home.  It’s just as exhausting.  I still don’t understand how electronics’ screens drain one of so much energy.  But this is an important cause, a good purpose, and a useful learning experience.

Arriving in Puerto Rico

At about 3:30am my plane landed in Ponce, Puerto Rico.  I was greeted by the boss' husband and two of the long-term interns, with whom I drove back to the field station in the dark, humid night.  I found it difficult to sleep, as I had drifted off sporadically on the plane.  Also, I could already hear the rooster crowing in the early morning hours and dogs barking into the darkness.  Unfortunately, the lie in that I was allowed the next morning seemed to do little for my jet lag, but I pulled through the best I could with a cup of coffee. 

I received a brief tour around the small property, which is heavily gated and locked to deter theft by the young generation of Puerto Ricans, who apparently feel that they are entitled to others’ property.  Aside from the gate, the front entry way is open with a stone floor and several items piled off to the sides, including a large bunch of bananas that had been cut straight from a tree in the backyard the day before.  The first room of the house is the largest, with a nook for a couple of cots, one in which I sleep, cabinets, and some kitchen appliances.  The other four interns have a bit more privacy with a shower curtain shielding the door to their room, and the two college students, who newly arrive each week for a field intensive program here, have a space.  The kitchen is small, but loaded with food in two refrigerators.  There is running water in the house and a microwave, but there isn’t the modern convenience of a stove and oven, only a hot plate and a toaster oven.  The bathroom is even modern-looking enough, with the exception of the wrench hanging onto the knob in the shower to turn on the water.  In addition, water pressure is low, so someone can’t shower, while another person washes the dishes at the same time.  The other bathroom quirks include spraying the shower down with bleach after use to discourage its development as a mosquito breeding ground and not flushing toilet paper, so that the toilet doesn’t become clogged.  The boss and her husband share the bedroom just before the entrance to the patio area, which has a concrete floor and simple, flat tin roof.  This is the dining area, work station, laundry room, and space to relax all in one.  The patio is surrounded by various flowering plants, a pomegranate bush, and papaya, plantain, and banana trees.  The village harbor can be seen from here as well, but I have not yet had the opportunity to venture to the ocean.

Most of the occupants had left for a survey trip earlier that morning, so the two interns, who had met me at the airport had been assigned to the task of familiarizing me with the project and the acoustic files, through which I would be sorting.  I set to scouring the recordings for various sounds, including humpback whales, fish, and non-biological objects.  I found it particularly challenging to distinguish between the knocking noises made by fish and non-biological objects, and the frequencies of some less frequent humpback whale calls that looked very much like those of fish.  I just finished sorting through my first three thousand files, waiting to hear from the intern, who is checking my work, if I have a knack for acoustics or will need some more practice. 

In a way spring here seems similar to spring back at home, as the environment is filled with the sounds of birds’ mating calls and human chatter, and constant activity with brightly-colored birds flitting among the bushes, lizards scampering along various stationary objects, and random cats lolling through the yard.  There is never a dull moment, even once the sun goes down.

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!

Chaotic Trip Planning

I was supposed to be spending this past week engaged in preparing for my upcoming trip.  I remember looking at the newly posted work schedule, wondering if I would have enough time to brush up on my Spanish, reread the information I had found months ago on humpback whales, theodolite tracking, and Puerto Rico ecology, make travel arrangements for my next trip, organize my living space, pack, and do all of the other detailed things that I needed to do.  But I promptly fell ill with the flu, and instead, spent my week passed out in bed, trying to rest and recuperate, so I could at least get myself to Puerto Rico.

 

Even since the fever broke, I haven’t felt up to par to get anything done, not to mention I’ve just been so worried about having only a few days to do what I had planned to do in a week.  I awoke this morning still fretting about all of the last minute things that I needed to do, worrying if I’d get it all done in time. 

Before leaving for Ireland and British Colombia, I’ve felt nervous excitement at the prospect of those trips.  Now, I’m just terrified.  I don’t know if being so ill has thrown me off this much, as I’ve been battling headaches and disorientation all day still.  I’m surprised that I even managed to pack.  Or perhaps, there has been too much down time, during which I’ve been able to push off thinking about the future.  Maybe that’s another reason for this fear; the future is here, and it’s no clearer than it was before.  I’m hoping that I’ll get over this hump once I start moving again. 

Also, there was a time when I was organized and everything had its place, so that I could easily locate whatever I needed.  Now, I’m lucky if I’m able to find an important piece of paper.  Twice already, I’ve nearly lost a train ticket for my next trip, as it floats about in my desk drawer.  When did this happen?  When did my life become so chaotic?  When did I become so chaotic?