Table of Contents, Intro, & Chapter 1
Contents: (Note: Chapters 1-8 are now available on this website)
PART 1:
Chapter 1: New Life Down-under
Chapter 2: Parrots in a Wooden House Chapter 3: The Lab
Chapter 4: Koala on the loose
Chapter 5: Wildlife Shenanigans
Chapter 6: Wetlands Village
Chapter 7: Fiascos Alone
Chapter 8: Dodging Traffic on the Beach
Chapter 9: Birthday Trek in the Rainforest
Chapter 10: Weirding out the Boyfriend’s Family
Chapter 11: Mountain of Bats and Bugs Chapter
12: It's a duck in a box
PART TWO:
Chapter 13: Jumping In with the Kangaroos
Chapter 14: Kangaroo week Continued
Chapter 15: Wet Roos
Chapter 16: Journey Back to Brisbane
PART THREE:
Chapter 17: Stradbroke Island
Chapter 18: Research Station in paradise
Chapter 19: Plastic beach
Chapter 20: Beach Cleanup
Chapter 21: The Night dive
Chapter 22: Goodbyes
Index: Glossary of Marine Bird Species
Note from the Author:
I first met Cassidy when I studied abroad in Brisbane, Australia, three years ago. I’ve always been interested in animals and biology conservation work, but never wanted to commit to the full lifestyle of a researcher. Instead, I went for the short-term, trying out this life and volunteering to join the adventures of a field biologist. Hence, I am only an “amateur naturalist”. All of the names have been changed in the book, but the events are all real, and quotes to the best of my memory’s ability.
Intro
Cassidy had always been the type of girl who would pull a snake from a bush just to show you its scales.
Unfortunately, on the latest adventure, she had left me in the car. Although she seemed to show no caution in regard to her own safety, she did show concern toward others. That said, I had no desire to sit around while she went into the back rooms of the Australian wildlife rescue facility. When I snuck out of the car and into the building, I had expected to walk into a neat back room of exotic animals. I did not expect to find myself alone with a koala, scampering around freely, Cassidy and the staff nowhere to be found.
The koala skitters across the room, its long nails sounding like the paw of a poodle's scratching against the hardwood floor. I attempt to round him away from pointy objects. He crashes past a cart, launching tweezers, clamps, and broken glass to the floor with a bang.
I'm pretty sure he's not supposed to be back here, but hey, neither am I. Truth be told, I'm afraid to launch myself in his direction and attempt to pick him up. I don't know the proper protocol for tackling loose marsupials.
Maybe this is why Cassidy was nervous to let me back here-- lest we get kicked out and never allowed to return. I was just trying to help. I’m here in Australia for three months to assist Cassidy with her biology honors project (the Australian version of a master's degree) investigating plastics in seabirds that are dying in record numbers. The hospital tries to save them, but when they can’t, they call Cassidy. She picks up the marine birds discreetly, and takes them for autopsy, trying to figure out what’s killing them.
A voice from down the hall startles me, followed by rushed footsteps. "What’s going on in there?"
I slip and my head crashes into the bottom of a table, as the koala crawls away and skids against another rolling cart, knocking a metal tray to the ground as he makes a break for the door. A glass wall separates the examining room from the hall, and I look up to see Cassidy and a nurse coming down the hallway. I rush out the door and down the hall to intercept them before they see me with the koala.
"What are you doing back here?" Cassidy looks both startled and upset. “You were supposed to stay in the car.”
I act natural and introduce myself to the nurse, “Hi, I'm Julia, Cassidy’s research assistant."
Before Cassidy can scold me, the nurse is already validating my presence. "Ah, visiting us, are you? What's been your favorite thing about Australia so far?"
"Well, I love how your animals are so . . . free-ranging."
"How you reckon?" She looks puzzled.
I decide to break it to them. "You know, the koala in the other room."
The nurse's eyes widen. "What koala!?"
She rushes past as Cassidy and I follow her down the hall, to the examination room. Through the glass, we can see the fuzzy grey toddler about to leave the room. The nurse blocks the exit, so the koala responds by pivoting and trying to run up the glass wall, its paws paddling on the glass, which is very adorable.
The nurse swiftly scoops him off up into her arms like a big baby. Or, like a koala at home in a eucalyptus tree. Now calm, the koala allows me to stroke his grey fur, so dense and soft. “Ah, Luke! He’s a naughty teenager.” The nurse coos.
"Sorry about the commotion!" I say.
“Nawr, Koalas can be very sneaky. This little bugger is always slippin' outta his enclosure. We just bring ‘em right back."
Although the nurse isn’t upset, Cassidy is fuming at me for disobeying her previous instructions. We follow the nurse through swinging doors, past a room with a pelican in surgery, to an outdoor area. The nurse gently returns Luke to an open enclosure with a very small fence surrounding a faux eucalyptus tree for him to climb. Fresh, real branches cover the structure, where the koalas can sit, eat, and sleep. Several koalas are happily munching in similar enclosures next to his, and don’t seem to notice Luke’s return.
We chat and I learn that even though koalas are adorable, with their big noses covering half their sleepy-eyed faces, they are one of the least intelligent mammals ever. Studies show they have a smooth brain and low cognitive functions, and are the only animal that doesn’t run away during a forest fire. Sorry to bum you out with that sad fact . . . though in a cartoonish way it is a little funny. They are simply a dopey cartoon creature, and it simply delights me that they exist. Though there is a disease going around, which has become a serious problem for koala survival. Known as “dirty dum disorder”, it is an STD like chlamydia. To protect the wild population and prevent it from spreading, infected koalas, like Luke and the others here, are collected by wildlife rescue facilities, and live out the rest of their days in quarantine. Unlike a zoo, they are not here for human entertainment.
"Well, better be getting back to the specimens now,” Cassidy says, and we went to collect our bag of bird samples and headed out. We had work ahead of us. Did I mention we still need to check them for gut plastics?
Chapter One: New Life Down Under
Balancing on the curb of the Brisbane International airport, I eagerly anticipate Cassidy’s arrival. I squint up at the early June sky, marbled with rain clouds and marvel the approaching winter. My flight from Los Angeles took twenty hours. My head's still in the clouds when I'm snapped back to the moment from a loud ring from my cell phone.
I recognize her battered red car. A colorful toy seems to balance on her steering wheel. Were those feathers?
The car passes me by, and I chase after it, waving my arms. Luckily, it doesn’t get too far before it parks and my fears are abated. Cassidy springs from the right-side door, keys in hand. I always forget they drive on the right side here. Cassidy’s long brown ponytail sways wildly as she approaches, wearing casual blue pullover and jeans. I bound into a hug, she awkwardly pulls away. Cassidy never was big on physical contact but I forgot, caught up in the excitement.
“Brr! It’s colder than I expected, are you sure Queensland is subtropical?” I ask, digging in my backpack for another sweater.
“Oh yes! Trust me, you're smarter to come in winter- the cold is more pleasant than summer’s scorching heat! It gets to be 40 degrees for days!” I know Cassidy is using Celsius. I do the math and know that's hot-- about a hundred degrees Fahrenheit.
Matt, Cassidy’s boyfriend, slowly emerges from the left passenger side. He is a head taller than Cassidy, yet with a thinner frame.
“Hello,” is all he says, timidly lifting a noodly arm in greeting. I smile and greet him. Although I've known Cassidy for a while, this is the first time I've met Matt. His thick brown hair is tied into a long scraggly pony-tail. He’s wearing a red plaid shirt and dusty jeans. His pale blue eyes match the faded denim.
“Hey, I’m Julia, I’ll be assisting Cassidy on her research this summer— er, winter.” “Right, mate,” Matt says and kindly takes my backpack to the car.
“He isn’t much of a talker.” Says Cassidy.
Something is moving inside the car window. What I had mistaken for a bobblehead toy is alive- squawking and jumping on the steering wheel.
“Julia, I see you’ve met Tiki! He’s a rainbow lorikeet.” Tiki bobs his handsome head and squawks like a cartoon character, proudly puffing out his bright orange chest with matching beak. He pauses to bob his brilliant blue head while gingerly picking at his green wing feathers. “Hello, Tiki!” I say.
“Hello, Tiki!” he mimics my tone in his raspy parrot voice.
My jaw drops in amazement, to which Cassidy replies, “Oh yep, don’t be too impressed. He has a limited vocabulary for a lorikeet.”
I never took an interest in parrots before, but this one is alright. Cassidy takes the wheel while Tiki commands from the top. He's the captain of the ship. I am utterly shocked and amazed. When Cassidy turns the wheel, Tiki leans into every turn. “He comes with me wherever I go— at least when he can,” Cassidy beams with joy.
We stop for a quick bite of lunch, veggie burgers at a roadside rest-stop. Cassidy and Matt are vegetarians with an exception, they do eat the occasional fish. Tiki stays in the car; he’s perched on the steering wheel, bobbing and babbling. “Hello, Tiki, Hello, Tiki . . .”
“So, what will you be doing every day with Cassidy?” Matt asks. By his gentle disposition, I’d swear he’s British. Cassidy insists on his behalf, that he grew up within an hour of here. But what do I know from accents? I guess they can be subtler than we tend to stereotype. Not every person sounds the same from within any country.
“Well, you know her Honors project is on plastic in seabirds. And we will be dissecting samples in the lab, and collecting them . . . where exactly?” I look at Cassidy to provide details. “Yep, I have a deal with various zoos and wildlife parks, they call when me when they have dead birds for me to pick up. We get to go behind the scenes and see unusual things. I was also thinking we could scout the beaches between Noosa and the Gold Coast. It would also give you a
chance to explore some interesting Australian towns.” I can hardly contain my excitement; a chance to see Australia and its animals from a unique perspective. “Got it. We’ll go to interesting places, meet interesting animals and dissect them.”
“Something like that.”
“One question, why did the birds die?”
“Ah,” she says with the wave of a hand. “People turn in injured wildlife to these organizations all the time, they do what they can but the birds don’t always recover. I get them from the morgue, thaw them out in our lab, and then check the cause of death and look for stomach plastic.”
I nod. I’ve come to know that drawl: ‘Ah’ with hand wave pairing as a common Australian quirk, often short for, ‘ah, she’ll be right. 'Ah', as in, more like a combo of a and o, nasally spoken.
Matt laughs, putting down his veggie burger. “And what makes you wanna study this again?”
Cassidy says, “I saw in a doco, how there’s an island where baby albatrosses are dying in the nest. Their bodies were full of plastic trash bits. It was the saddest thing. I asked my supervisor if anyone knew if this was happening in Australia, and she said nobody has studied it yet. So, I am taking it on as my research project.”
“Okay, fair enough.” Matt nods and pulls her into his arms. Then he asks me, “Cass told me you just finished a degree in psychology? So why come to dissect stinky birds?” his face contorts into a grimace.
“Ah, come off it. They really aren’t that stinky!” Cassidy chuckles. She leans toward me, escaping his embrace, and whispers loudly, “He doesn’t understand. Engineers.”
I shrug. “Lots of people with different backgrounds want to help animals. I’d like to think I’m bringing a unique perspective myself. And I believe in her work, it will help inform about the health of the world ecosystem.”
“Yep!” Cassidy smiles in agreement. “Oh, by the way, Next month, Matt and I will be going away for a week on holiday. If you’re keen, I can put you in touch with some girls from the uni, who are conducting a wild kangaroo study. They need a volunteer to join them in the outback for a week. Could be a good experience for your animal resume!”
“I’m definitely keen!” I say, lovingly mimicking how they say “keen” instead of “interested”. On that note, our conversation quickly devolves into all so necessary banter over Aussie-American language differences.
I say Lox, they say smoked salmon.
I say ketchup, they say tomato sauce.
They say Vegemite, I say there’s no equivalent.
“Why do Australians insist on calling things by their literal descriptions?” “Oh, that’s nothing! You should see how we name our frogs.” She starts counting on her hand. “Let’s see, there’s the Australian green tree frog, the green and golden bell frog, grass frog, striped marsh frog, southern brown tree frog . . .”
“Nice.”
She continues, “Then there are the marsupials. Brushtail possum, red kangaroo, grey kangaroo, rock wallaby, paddymelon.”
She's referring to a type of small wallaby that looks like a melon as hangs out on fields. Yep, that’s as literal as it gets. "Speaking of, not to sound ungrateful about the bird project, but will it be easy to see other wildlife around?”
“I reckon so. I also work part-time at a wildlife reserve education center. I can bring you ‘round some time and take you on nature walks. Including dusk and night hikes looking for rare critters. Like sugar gliders.”
These are an adorable marsupial that flies with folds under its arms and has huge eyes because it's nocturnal. It licks the nectar from flowers like a little pixie. Pure magic, I can’t wait. "We will also probably spot animals in the wild. Our animals aren't shy. But I'm more into birds!" She smiles broad, goofy, and proud of her passion.
I must admit I'm already excited to get started. Her love of birds is actually contagious. Back in the car with Tiki, facing Cassie at the wheel, we drive into Brisbane city from the airport suburbs. As the Brisbane skyline rises in the distance, memories flood in. I’m sentimental for every eucalyptus tree, building, and signpost we pass as we speed along, with the river to our left. That same river where I jet-skied, more like was flung. Several times until finally clobbering my head and calling it quits. The same river is rumored to contain aggressive bull-sharks who swim upstream. You don't mess with Bull sharks that live in murky brown water. When I studied abroad three years ago at the University of Queensland, I had tried all sorts of clubs. I had also joined the rock climbing club. The group met at the base of a hundred-foot cliff on the far side of the river, known as Kangaroo Point. That’s actually where I first met Cassidy. Protected with just a rope and helmet, I was sitting among fifty or so other harnessed figures, who were chatting, some munching kangaroo sausages, and waiting for our turn to ascend the earthen puzzle.
Cassidy and I had been chatting about possums, and I mentioned how I longed to see more wildlife. Nothing has changed.
“They have possums in the trees here! You’ll like em, they are heaps cuter than your rat faced American opossums."
“Oh wow, could we climb and go see them now?” I asked.
“Sure!”
Up in the trees, she handed me some bread to attract them, and soon we were staring at the adorable, wide-eyed innocence of the chubby Australian possum. That’s when I knew I would return to Australia and its wildlife someday. Cassidy and I were friends from that day on, based on a mutual love of animals, and stayed in touch after I returned home to California. Such were some of the fond memories of my college junior year abroad studying at the University of Queensland— or The Uni as it's known locally (and will henceforth be called). Now I am back to study. More like independent study, on the life of a biologist.
Brisbane is a mess of neighborhoods entangled along the banks of the winding Brisbane River, and I have never been to Dutton Park, the neighborhood we were now approaching. “What happened to your place in Toowoomba?” I recall the old rooftop flat where she had lived with a bunch of housemates during my study abroad year, a couple of years ago. It had an incredible twinkling view of the Brisbane skyline along the river. It was a pity six college kids— kept the place so messy.
“Yeah, I loved that flat, it was right fun! But after undergrad, I signed a lease on a house in Dutton park with another bunch of housemates. Along with our other parrots, our chooks, and the wild brush turkeys who roam out back . . . the possum who climbs in the kitchen window. We get a lot of wildlife around us.”[ https://www.abc.net.au/news/2018-10-27/brush-turkeys-are booming-in-urban-areas-and-we-dont-know-why/10406294https://www.abc.net.au/news/science/2017-01-17/five-reasons-to-love-brush-turkeys/7199724 https://blog.nature.org/science/2015/11/23/introducing-australian-brushturkey/ ]
“What’s a chook?”
“Oh, like hens.”
Sounds good to me, the bigger the menagerie the better, and living close to so much wildlife. “It’s a great neighborhood, just on the other side of the river from the Uni, with a ravine out back. It’s convenient except for driving to Uni . . . I have to carry the bird bags across the footbridge to the lab . . .” she says apologetically.
“No problem.” My heart races, it all sounds very exotic. what will this be like? ...It turns out better than I ever expected . . . What have I signed up for here?