The Ocean Tracking Network and the Institut National de la Recherche Agronomique (INRA, France) are collaborating on a study of the successful colonization of the remote French Kerguelen Islands by brown trout, introduced to the region in the 1960s. The project presents a unique opportunity to study large-scale colonization by a species in the context of climate change and glacial retreat.
Colin Buhariwalla is an OTN Masters student at Acadia University in Nova Scotia. Over the next three months, Colin will be conducting acoustic range tests and documenting his time on the Kerguelen Islands. Colin shares his unique experience at this remote research site through comedic updates and poor grammar (though mostly edited below).
These are his stories…
Kerguelen Islands (population: 61)
We landed at Port-aux-Francais (PAF) on Saturday, January 16, to a crowd of 25-30 Kergueleners eager to greet the new arrivals from the Marion Dufrense.
Now, as I’ve come to learn, the French greeting involves “bonjour/salut, ca va?,” a handshake between men, a kiss on both cheeks between women, and again kiss on the cheeks between men and women. This process happens each time you greet someone for the first time that day. For me, a North American who’s society seems to be headed towards the filling of waivers and forms before you can even think about touching another person, the cordial backslapping and intimacy among strangers and friends alike was a kind of culture shock. Don’t get me wrong, I like the camaraderie… it’s just a new culture to get used to.
Port-Aux-Francais is a small village with lots of little French vehicles driving on two-lane gravel and concrete roads—still better than Nova Scotia’s—interspersed between the numerous buildings on the base. There are elephant seals and rabbits all over the base and penguins along the shore. There is the small village mentality and everyone pitches in to do their part for the common good and smooth functioning of the base.
There are numerous groups: French marines run the bar, firefighting service, transport, logistics, etc.; maintenance staff (carpenters, plumbers, electricians, waste services, food, etc.); logistical operations for the different groups (IPEV, Institute Polaire Francais, Institute Paul Emile Victor; TAAF, Terres Australes et Antarctiques Francais, etc.); Natural Reserve folks (like our Parks Canada); Meto France (weather service); France’s version of NASA; scientists and others I am sure I have missed. All of these groups coordinate with each other for daily operations in keeping this place running.
Scientific operations/research projects are handled through IPEV, who we go to when we need food for the field, transport, and anything else one could desire at the far reaches of the southern Indian Ocean. For instance, the director of IPEV, Yann Le Meur, departed with the Marion after we were settled and he left me his field gear, saving me from the misery of my winter gear/clothes having been lost in transit. All field projects and base activities are coordinated among all of the groups so that everybody is in the loop on what is going on, resources can be allocated appropriately, and smooth daily operation (essential to our survival) is constant. It’s all fascinating to watch!
The food situation…
… is less formal than on the boat, but there is always enough to eat. Breakfast is 6-8/830, lunch is 12-1300, and supper is at 1900; there is always food in the leftovers fridge if you miss a meal. Meals always start with the morning/lunch/dinner greeting of people with a handshake/kiss (if you haven’t seen them yet that day) and are buffet style. The most notable thing about meals is the cleanup afterwards. Everyone does a round of rinsing, drying from the industrial dishwasher, and putting away the dishes. The first night we were here, the additional crew from the Marion and the Kergers who hadn’t rotated out yet meant that we had ~100 people on base/eating. This caused a brouhaha in the kitchen with a constant rotation of ~15 people crowded around shouting, joking, and even singing to get the work done as quickly as the dishes were coming in. It was all overwhelming for an Anglophone, but I nodded and picked up the rhythm of the work flow.
For fieldwork, we send our list of food wants from IPEV to the kitchen (72 hours in advance) and they give us what they can accommodate. For day trips, we pack what we need in our backpacks; for multiday excursions we pack the food and other supplies into 60L blue waterproof containers (tukes) for transport into the field (more to come on this).
Our group is working under the SALMOEVOL-1041 project. Currently our work is focused on electrofishing rivers around Kerguelen to update the inventory of salmonid species (Coho & Atlantic Salmon, brown trout, brook trout/charr, arctic charr, and some hybrids), but our work will include collections for other collaborators (Fred Whoriskey and Glenn Crossin from Ocean Tracking Network, among others) to answer questions related to the dispersal of these introduced species around Kerguelen and the genetics of anadromy—for non-fish folk, anadromy is when fish leave freshwater to live/forage in the ocean, but need to return to spawn in freshwater.. google diadromy for more info).
Our first field day…
…was on the 19th when we hiked the stunning Kerguelen coast westward along the northern shore of the Golfe de Morbihan to fish riviere Otarie and riviere Borgne to look for ‘truite de mer’ and ‘omble’ (brown trout and brook trout, respectively). It was ‘an easy’ 10km trip to test our gear and the newly minted team. Some of the more notable sights along the 10km hike were the copious amounts of rabbits (invasive). They’re everywhere and apparently protected in the ‘reserve naturalle’… shame, I think a rabbit fur industry would do quite well here (hats, mitts, and boots for all!).
Along the beaches we encountered royal penguins and moulting elephant seals. The penguins are quite wary, unlike on Crozet, but the elephant seals are quite oblivious of everything around them. A lack of natural terrestrial predators has made the sleeping elephant seal easily approachable, especially from downwind, and they not-so-quickly retreat when they see us 3-4m away (our coastal routes usually have to cut through many groups of ‘elephant de mers’.
January 20, 2016 – The cabin
We loaded up the reserve naturalle 20-23ft rigid hull zodiac (quite a beast used on base to deposit researchers, do work in the reserve, and as a rescue boat) and headed for a cabin called Malloy (‘Mol-wah’ French pronunciation). The seas were flat calm and we must have hit 40-50 knots on the 15k trip–stay tuned for results of zodiac and not so calm seas.
Now, IPEV and TAAF have dozens of cabins located around the Kerguelen Islands in varying states of luxury and use. Molloy is a cabin that is not used too frequently and has a moisture/mouse problem; it’s an old house nestled in the lee of a cliff, sheltered from the prevailing westerlies. The musty old smell of moist wood immediately reminded me of the Mumbai airport pre-makeover and there were interesting/diverse fungal communities in each room of the cabin. Fungus aside, we set up camp and lugged our gear up from the beach. After a quick lunch, we headed for our first outing ‘en terrain’ (in the field) and so it began..
The terrain ranges from bogs to a martian-like post-glacial debris fields and all around ancient volcanic cones rise out of the gulf and inland–the only flat land is the area around PAF to the east. The beautiful coves, filled with a kelp-like plant (related to kelp, but I forget the name), quickly lead to steep cliffs and frigid gulf. Inland, glacially carved valleys and small rivers crisscross the landscape. There are several gorges that you must navigate to traverse some of the mountain streams. Distant mountain peaks are snow covered and seem untouchable. Hopefully some of the attached pictures do the landscape justice.
January 21, 2016 – Stolen supper
We navigated a westerly route around the coast to survey a few rivers in a valley. We hiked 8km with all our gear and set up to fish in the short estuary (place where river meets the sea). Philippe and Pancho were successful in catching dinner (two beautiful sea run brown trout), however, a skua (bird) managed to steal one of the cleaned trout without us noticing. We crossed ‘Riviere des Glacieres’ and started up the river to do some electrofishing when we saw a group of six reindeer foraging on the hill ahead of us (200+ m). It was quite a thrill to see, especially since I just finished ‘People of the Deer’ by Farley Mowat (highly recommend to all). Finally after several minutes we got to work and had to navigate several dozen elephant seals to get a good position.
We electrofished our way up ‘rivieres des trois lacs’ and ‘rivieres des joncs’ finding all brown trout parr and smolts (stage when the fish are changing their physiology to head to the sea), but turned a few good 30cm+ fish. The scenery was breath-taking, with waterfalls in front of us and a babbling brooks around us and small native acaena (perennial plants) and sphagnum mosses lining the banks… a few dandelions scattered throughout). Keep in mind there are no trees outside PAF (there are two ceders on base) so you see as far as the cliffs and mountains permit. Away from the immediate vicinity of the water sources and areas of poor drainage, the landscape quickly changes to the Mars-like boulders discussed earlier. For the hike back we hiked up a small mountain/hill (200+ m) and traversed this tough terrain for two hours, navigating gorges, debris fields, and cliffs. It was a relief to round a cliff and see the fields of green acaena and the cabin nestled at the bass of the rocks—16k with 15-17kg of gear and difficult terrain was fun, but tiring.
January 22, 2016 – Return to base
On the last day at Malloy, we hiked 16km along the coast to fish a few more rivers and then returned to base in time for dinner and a hot, well deserved shower.
I promise, this update ends soon…
January 25, 2016
Yesterday, we took the zodiac to survey a river, ‘val d’orge,’ and recover gear we couldn’t hike out of Molloy (kitchen gear, extra food, etc.). Well, the westerly wind was gusting > 50 knots (103 km/h when we left) with 1.5-2 m waves. The cold ocean spray was going everywhere (nose, mouth, etc.), but we were decked out in full rain gear, helmets, ski goggles, boots, and gloves. This was one of the craziest rides of my life. The zodiac relentlessly fired into waves one after another. We would leave the water and smash down in the trough of an oncoming wave; when we landed on the crest or backside of the the wave, the landing was tolerable, otherwise it was bone jarring. At one point, we had to turn around and send Pancho back to shore with an injured back and then head back out. A few thoughts run through your mind when you are holding onto the seat in front of you being pummelled by wave after wave:
- damn, that water is cold;
- hm, you wouldn’t last too long in there if you fell in;
- I am on the other side of the world, battling the elements to go fishing.. AWESOME;
- the only rescue boat around for several thousand km is the the one I’m riding in…; and
- when will this onslaught end?
Well, it took us over an hour of punishment to make it to our destination. We fished some trout (all sea run browns/smolts), took in the amazing valley, and headed back to PAF. I must say, my body feels like it has been hit by a car (or rag-dolled down a mountain for you skiers/boarders out there). There is a baseball sized purple/black/red/magenta coloured bruise on my thigh from where the seat kept smashing me on in the troughs of the waves–we had to stand so as to preserver our tailbones/vertebrae. I have some GoPro footage of the event that I will have to share, but it doesn’t do the ride justice and the camera falls down to my face halfway through the ride.
To the fish
So far we have only caught brown trout (parr, smolts, sea run, and residents) and brook trout (parr and residents) in all of the rivers we have been searching. The majority of fish are browns (truite de mer) with a few brook trout mixed in. The fish here sometimes have deceptive colouration and sometimes I am wondering if I am looking at the same species as we have back home. All in all, we’re seeing a lot of browns most places we go. It’s all quite interesting and I can’t wait to see some novel species…
Time to go prep for the field tomorrow (430am at the jetty.. yuck). More about prep and the dreaded ‘biosecurity’ to follow.
Hope all is well wherever this finds you!
Much love,
CB