1910 – Some days are tougher than others. This morning we wake up to dirty, muddy baskets packed to the tops with the garbage of the ocean. We shimmy down the hatches into solid darkness – not a shimmer of sunshine is seeping through the materials stuck to the screens. My companion and I each emit a deep sigh, ‘it’s going to be a long morning’, and we start plucking away at the plants, ropes, wires, nets and other odd things that have entwined themselves around the grates. It’s only after we’ve been plucking and chucking away at the debris for two or three hours that we hear the nerve-testing news. We’ve taken so long to clear the baskets, that we’ve missed the time for flushing and dumping through the bottom hatch… Instead, we have to haul all our trash into garbage bags, pass them up through the hatches and chuck them onto the deck. Sighs X two. Angels appear in the form of our two deckhands who jump in the baskets with us and help the production line of trash make it to the deck. By the time the job is done and we’ve hosed ourselves free of mud, it’s time for lunch. It feels good to sit down; it feels good not to be covered in mud.

 It’s amazing how some fresh air can turn your day around… some fresh sea air and a spectacular sunset. The hazy horizon provides a wonderful array of colors. As the clouds of orange and purple mesh into the sky, the sun drops behind the haze. Moments later, a pink plate of sun reappears in front of the haze and slowly sinks below the horizon line, taking with it the stresses of a day at sea.

 Tuesday 1 March 2011

 1547 – I’m jolted awake! The doors, cabinets and even the wall-mounted phone are rattling anxiously. I feel like a straw in a hotdog bun… bouncing around my bed between my side rails. BANG! Rattle. THUD! Shakity-shake?! What in the world is going on? I feel like I’ve been relocated to that classic scene of Jurassic Park where you can see and feel the vibrations of the T-Rex before it comes to claim it’s victims… No, no, this is no T-Rex and I’ve only been asleep for thirty minutes, so maybe I can just roll over and ignore this persistent banging…

 1616 – Sleep is useless. The banging has yet to stop and I decide to get dressed and see what the fuss is about. Upstairs on the bridge there’s an eerie quiet and I can sense the tension as I ascend the stairway. My companion signals me to be quiet, as only the Captain is around, looking serious and talking away on the phone. She fills me in that we’ve been having winds of over 25 knots an hour causing or vessel to slam into the barge that we’re currently pumping our beach quality loads through. It’s becoming dangerous and eventually, we stop. There’s a change of course: we’re heading to drop the rest of the load at the offshore site – a blissfully barge-less location – and then we’re off to pump the wonderful sulfurous mud that we’ve only just had a 24 hour break from.

Wednesday 23 February 2011 – Day 6, ‘Rock the boat!’

0330 – Not dumping until sunrise means I have hours to kill. I clock over an hour in the ‘gym’; boxing, doing yoga and laps between the ‘gym’ and the ‘Laundromat’. On deck, between stairwells, it’s windy and wet outside… where did this rain come from?! But once showered and up on the bridge, I see we’re in a very dense fog. We have a warning light and fog horn going and we’re still pumping in, but moving at a safer speed. The waves have picked up more than I’d experienced so far, but I was pleased to discover no sickness and a rather childlike enjoyment in the bouncy sensation! Everything swings, creaks and moans from side to side. In seconds, my view of the blackened sea becomes a view of the blackened sky.

0800 – The offshore material that we’ve been dredging is a smooth, black mud. It smells sulfurous and coats the inside of the baskets like dirty molasses. The amount of marine life being sucked up has tripled. Dozens of horseshoe crabs, starfish, conches, spider crabs, king crabs, sea weed, plant life and a handful of odd trash (plastics, metals, clothes, water bottles, goggles, flippers, etc.) are coming up in every load. So far, no turtles, which is a good thing. Despite the sadness of the amount of death that dredging brings, I find it interesting and educational… I’ve genuinely come to like rummaging through the dirty baskets. It’s not always so pretty, but if we weren’t here looking over the shoulders of these operations, they could stop using turtle deflectors, or not follow the strict regulations set in place to protect marine life. It’s a dirty job, but someone’s got to do it.

1215 – Cabin fever! We have lunch and I’m too energetic to sleep. I decide to stay up and explore the next load with my companion so we can get some photos of us going down the hatch and getting rather dirty. The boat is rocking rampantly again, and we find ourselves in fits of giggles. Is this cabin fever? I feel like a pinball swaying and bumping about. Everything sets us off in bouts of laughter… the rocking of the boat, my worn muscles struggling to pull open a door that I needed to push; mud stains on the bum of my wet gear… We head into the baskets, count our specimens and have a muddy modeling session. I overhear one of the deckhands on the radio, “Turtle girls’ gone crazy!” and am sent into another fit of laugher.

Tuesday, 22 February 2011 – Day 5, Open Seas

1050 - The land workers came aboard today. These are the company office workers who plan, prep and organize the operation from a financial, governmental and scientific stand point. There’s talk of changing location for awhile, as the pumping station barge was in need of some maintenance.

Half an hour later, we’re heading to an offshore pumping sight. The game plan has changed temporarily. Rather than collecting and dumping loads continuously, we’re collecting for a given amount of time and dumping out at dawn and dusk only. I’m not quite sure I understand the whole idea… but I’m excited about heading further out into the deep blue!

Monday 21 February 2011 – Day 4

0705 – In just a few days, we’ve settled into a routine. I wake up at 2315, check what’s going on in the bridge, and then head to the galley with my fellow observer for my supper. We catch up on the past 8 hours where I’ve been sleeping, and bid each other good night. Now… my fun begins!

At night, between loads, there is no observing to do, (too dark to spot marine life at sea) so for some time, I’m free to do what I want (within reason!). If I’m feeling lazy, I’ll curl up on the galley sofa and watch TV, read, or look at magazines. If I’m feeling more energetic I’ll head below deck and do laundry or kill time in the ‘gym’.

What we call a ‘gym’ is really a machinery room with a semi-functional Bowflex, free weights, a bench press and – to my delight – a punching bag. Exercising on a ship is somewhat challenging… the boxing bag has an extra swing to it and doing yoga (especially those one-legged poses) seems to require twice the concentration when the boats a-rocking!

In my late night explorations, I also found the ‘great white freezer’. With an assortment of frozen pizza, fries, burritos and other such goodies I was fairly pleased. But when I arrived the next night, and found the freezer half-empty, I was even more delighted! I noticed something familiar peeking out from the deep depths of one corner… Oh, yes! I’ve found it now, folks, I found the buried treasure this time… eight whole two-pint cartons of Ben n Jerry’s ice cream!

Saturday 19 February 2011 – Day 2

0416 – Finally a load where we can explore! My trainer and I take turns going into each of the four baskets. We climb down the hatch it’s like a different world inside. Half the basket is solid steel walls and the other half is a grid of bars like a cage. It’s wet, dripping, smelling of salt and sea – I feel like I’m in a cave off the coast. I rummage round the corners, finding sand, shells, giant conches and scraps of metal and wood. No turtle remains, no sign of life… The last basket is still slightly flooded with water. We stick our heads down the hatch and glance around – debating whether it’s worth the wetness or not. Small logs, big rocks, clay… and then, I see a pair of eyes, floating and disappearing between the logs. I clamber into the hatch – ignore the water that seeps into my boots – and stick my hands into the water. Through my gloves I feel something rubbery and super slippery! I finally get a good grip and pull out a small skate. It managed to make it through the tubing and dredging relatively unscathed, but unfortunately, dead. After the baskets, we peek under the dragheads for any turtles or marine life that could get caught, but they’re clean and in good shape, so we head back to the bridge to record our findings.

I’ve finally completed a full load check, and my trainer and I are in agreement… next time, I’m flying solo!

Day 1 - Friday 18 February 2011

0440 hrs – After weeks of waiting the day has finally come. The dredging operation is ready for us Observers and this morning I finally get to see what my life on the ‘floating vacuum vessel’ is going to look like!

0600 – We’ve made it to the marina where we follow some other hard-hatters to the crew boat. There’s a buzz of excitement in the air. Others on board include technicians, engineers and members of the crew. Friendly chatter and banter continues and the basic safety issues of transferring from small boat to big dredge are reviewed.

The full moon hangs low over the horizon. It’s one of those magical mornings where sea and sky have merged into one endless vision of blue-grey… only separated by slight patches of early morning fog.

At last all of the crew has arrived and we take off for the dredge. The water is smooth and glasslike as we glide out of the marine… we spot dolphins… and then we spot the dredge. Around 350ft long, red and white, with a yellow crane atop and plenty of metal mechanical gear, it looks interesting to say the least. Anticipation has reached its peak – I’ve heard good things about the food, the crew and the accommodation, but who really knows what to expect! Moments later, we’ve arrived. Welcome to my new home – the Terrapin Island!

0900 – Onboard, we’re given a small tour. We thrust our gear and bags into our room; two beds, cabinets, drawers, a TV(!), and best of all our own head (ship-talk for bathroom). Then we follow one of the engineers, first (and very importantly, might I add) to the galley – aka the kitchen/dining area – then up two more ladders (stairs) to the bridge. The bridge is the most important area to know about. It’s the navigational deck where the captain and different mates will control the vessel. It’s large and wide and wondrously surrounded by windows. This is also our work station. As an observer, by daylight this is where I’ll watch for whales, dolphins, manatees and turtles. When it’s dark, I’ll wait for my cue to inspect the dredge baskets for the remains of turtles and other marine life. The view, of land, of beach and an unthinkable quantity of water from 60ft high is beautiful and I know in a second that I’m going to like it up here.

1030 – We take a short trip back to land for a corporate safety meetings and overview of the dredging plans. The basic idea is that the vessel has two arms, called dragarms, on either side, that shuffle along the bottom of the sea floor and suck up the desired materials. There are TEDs (turtle excluder devices) deflectors attached to each  draghead (the bottom park of the arm that does the actual suctioning) that is intended to push aside any turtles hanging down below. This vessel’s mission is to supply Fernandina Beach, FL with more sand. We’ll be dredging a channel between Georgia and Florida all night and day continuously stopping to pump our sand through tubes to a booster station. This station then pumps our load through more tubes down to the beach where a bulldozing crew is ready to take over.

Feeling better informed, we leave the meeting and head back towards the marina to re-board the dredge. Not without a quick stop at Starbucks, where I briefly dwell on the fact this could be my last gourmet coffee for some weeks….! A small price to pay for an adventure out at sea!

1515 – Back onboard the dredge, the bridge is busy and hectic. The engineers and technicians are running tests and the deckhands outside are working on last minute preparations. As a relatively small part of the operation, we hide out below organizing our room. Later we explore the deck and further below, where there are the laundry room, cleaning supplies room, incinerator, small workout corner and engine room.

There are a lot of funny things to remember while living and moving about the ship. Every doorway has a small threshold to step over (thank goodness for steel toed boots!), every open door is being held so by a hook on the wall, and all closets, drawers and cabinets are latched shut. Fire doors and those leading outside are thick and heavy – and don’t even think about going on the lower deck without your hard hat, steel toes, and safety glasses on! But otherwise, the onboard set-up is pleasant, the crew is nice and helpful and the food has been excellent [salad, rice, potatoes, fresh rolls, lots of meat (this is, after all, an all male crew), fish, and desserts of cake and ice cream].

1810 – We watch the sunset from the stern (the boat’s derriere). The horizon is a smear of pink and orange, fading into the rich blue of dusk. With all the chaos going on inside the bridge, it’s both a calming and exciting moment. The real work has yet to begin, but it’ll hit us soon enough. As we watch the last layers of light disappear, we spot bottlenose dolphins along the breakers to the north, and it dawns at me, that I am now living at sea…

2130 – After dinner and an attempt at napping, we overhear from the bridge that it might be another three hours before the dredging gets going. With permission, we retire to our rooms for another attempt at some shut eye!

2255 – Ring ring! Ring ring! A bell sounds and, half asleep, I sit up fast and worried that it’s the fire alarm. ‘Is that the alarm?!’ I blurt out. ‘Yes! Pick up the phone!’ my trainer says. The phone? I think to myself. I flick on the light and see a phone on the wall next to me, ringing with urgency. ‘Hello?’ I say. ‘Yes, we’ve started dredging.’ I hear; they hang up. Of course! It’s our wake up alarm for when the dredging started.

Sleepily we dress ourselves and prepare our ‘getting dirty’ gear. We head to the bridge, accessorize ourselves with cups of coffee and watching the dredging action.

2304 – The dredging hits a standstill. The inflow baskets which screen turtle and marine life remains are jam-packed. Time to gear up and investigate! Out on deck, we’re met by two friendly deckhands – our escorts through the walkways above the hopper (the center of the ship that collects all the material). We climb down a ladder to the top of the baskets, which are about 6ft high, 8ft long and 6ft across. They unscrew a hatch for us and the sand and clay is packed to the top making it impossible to get inside. We see from there that the other three baskets are jammed as well. We scan with our flashlights for any marine life to record, but it mostly looks like clay and shells. We give our approval to dump the load and we head back to the dump site to get rid of the materials collected.

From the moment that your private boat and driver meet you at the dock, you realize that your Fantastic Voyage is underway. Upon arrival at the Funship, you are met by the crew that welcomes you aboard and assists with your bags (along with any groceries or other supplies that the crewboat brought) onto the ship. After you deposit your bags in your modest stateroom, complete with bunkbeds, wardrobe, table, and twenty five square feet to spread out, a brief tour of the vessel is given. Down the short hallway you will find the community restroom (aka the Head). The dining room (Galley) and other staterooms are also located on the Main Deck. Below are more crew quarters and the engine room along with the rest of the mechanical heart of the ship. Above is the Observation Bridge, complete with state of the art (1990) technology (ok, it’s a GPS and radar) and comfortable seating for extended periods of watching all the wonders of the open water (that Mobile Bay has to offer). Meals are served around the clock (when the clocks hits 5, 11, and comes around to hit 5 again), but not to worry because exercise equipment is on board. When you are not sleeping, eating, working out, standing in line for the Head, or observing the scenery, you can enjoy the aft Sun Deck where the off-duty crew often gather for relaxation in the sun.

Ok, so it’s not a Carnival Cruise to the Islands, but it is so much more enjoyable than an office job, plus you did say that you were looking for “Field Work”, didn’t you? Well, my friends, this is field work at its best. There are no cubicles onboard the ship, no corporate dress code, except for steel toed boots and hard hat. The Environment doesnt come to you, you’ve got to get out in it. And whether you are fishing the guts of a dead pelican out of the lander box or washing the mud off your boots, you’ve found The Environment and you are up to your elbows in it. The crew is there to do their job of moving cubic tons of muck from the shipping channel and you are there to do your job of monitoring for endangered species on board. They are rather supportive of our presence on board because of it being a necessary evil, in their eyes. If you work together and give each other a little space and respect, everyone can do their jobs. They can ensure that commerce continues to travel the waterways and we can help ensure that marine endangered species are protected.

It takes a few days to get used to life aboard, especially if you are working the midnight to noon shift. There’s the community restroom to deal with, its noisy and the engines only shut off when you are at the fuel docks or on anchorage in crazy weather. The ship is alive and is always moving. Once you get used to the gentle sway of the ship and the rumble of the engines, there is quite a lot to enjoy while on board. When the weather is nice, you can stand outside of the Bridge and watch the water. If you are a River Rat like myself, that is enough to make you never want to work at a desk. While transiting between the dig site and the dump site, you can watch the dolphins bow ride on the passing ships in the channel and the seagulls and pelicans as they play on the currents of air formed by the ship as it cuts through the water. I mentioned going to the fuel dock previously, and on this job that’s about once every two weeks. Most times you will be able to get off the ship for a few hours while refueling and scheduled maintenance is performed to run into town and pick up any supplies that you may need. The crew will often add a few items to your list if you are going ashore, and in exchange for picking up the miscellaneous tube of toothpaste or bottle of salad dressing, you will quickly gain acceptance from the crew. They are a pretty good group of guys, they’d almost have to be to work for nearly a month at a time right on top of each other without killing each other.

It’s like no other job around. It has it’s ups and downs, but like I said before, it beats a desk job anyday.

Observing is a field in which there are often times of high turn over. Observers inherently move from project to project which brings us the opportunity to hire new people, at times we run across biologist who have worked in similar fields before but have yet to do ship-based work. Recently I had the opportunity to train just such a person. Not everyone is cut out for being away from friends and family for long periods of time with limited communication, thrown into a situation where you know no-one and must live together in close quarters and still manage to thrive. I am glad to say she did wonderfully and picked up everything easily. When I asked if she wanted to write a post for the blog on her experience, she agreed. Below is her take on being an observer.
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New to the Observer Scene

As someone with several years experience working in the biology field, I was excited to get a job as a Marine Endangered Species Observer. It was hard to imagine what it was going to be like working out on a ship even after talking to several observers. One would think that I would have a thousand questions but honestly, until I was out there I couldn’t really picture it fully and think of anything to ask other than the general questions someone would ask who has never been on a hopper dredge – what type of gear do I need?, what should I bring to do on my off time?, etc. After purchasing all my supplies and packing, I had plenty of time to prepare for the job seeing as how the start date was delayed several times – I quickly learned that this is not an uncommon occurrence. Soon enough though, I got the call about our official start date and less than 24 hours later I was on the road heading to Mobile, AL and in eight short hours I would arrive for my first day of work.

Next thing I knew, I was on the crew boat heading out to board the ship. As we approached the ship, it was everything I expected it to be – a large, partially rusted ship that looked somewhat similar to a barge. Once I climbed onboard the ship, I was taken on a quick tour and introduced to some of the crew. It was small living quarters- just as I was told it would be. After getting settled in the observers’ cabin, I began my training – it lasted about half a day before we received the news that Hurricane Ida was heading directly for us! It made sense – the seas were rough and getting worse as time went by so we headed to anchor to ride out the storm. I never would have imagined my first day onboard the ship as an observer would be spent on anchor due to an approaching hurricane – what are the chances?!

About a day later, the storm passed and we were able to go back to work. The next couple of days were spent learning the ropes. Easily, the hardest part was getting used to working from 11:30 PM to 11:30 AM. I ended up spending most of my time off sleeping but after a few days, my body adjusted. Everything was pretty smooth sailing from there on out.

The work is pretty straight forward. At night, when my shift begins, I check the draghead and lander in between loads which is about every five hours and during the day I also observe and document marine mammal sightings. While there are not many dolphins out in the early morning, there are always birds to be seen everywhere.

As time passed, I was even able to tell whether we were digging or dumping based on the vibrations and noises of the ship – this allowed me to leave the house and wander out onto the stern or bow of the ship to look for marine life. It also gave me the opportunity to get outside more which is nice when you’re cooped up on a ship for three weeks!

Overall, it’s a quite relaxing experience being out at sea. I have the opportunity to see things most people don’t get to see – beautiful sunrises/sunsets, birds perched on the ship, sea gulls swooping into the hopper to catch a small fish, brown pelicans flying along right beside the ship and tons of dolphins surfing the wake from passing ships. My first trip out turned out to be a great experience. The crew was great and the work was new and exciting. In the end I left with some good memories, interesting stories and new friends and I’m looking forward to returning soon!

As the daylight hours have shortened and the end of the year nears it has finally turned to winter in the South. I am currently working a project off the coast off Alabama. What many people do not realize is it does get cold in the southern United States, and it is quite a different cold than many areas of the US. It is a damp cold. This is even more prevalent when you work on a ship.

View from the bridge

The water temperatures have decreased to a cool 52-55 degrees from the nice mid to upper 70s of the summer. And the air temperatures are ranging from upper 30s to low-mid 50s. This might not sound too bad to some, but add in a 20-25kt wind, daily overcast skies and the steel walls of a ship and it quickly becomes a place where you are constantly wanting to stand in front of a heater with a nice warm mug of hot chocolate. However, all dreams of a heater and cocoa go amok when crew members want to run the air conditioning on the bridge. Which is why we observers have a permanent blanket here on the bridge and we dress in layers.

Humans are not the only species affected by the cold of winter. As the water temperatures have decreased so have our observances of marine life. When the temperatures were warmer on a good day we could have over 50 sightings of 100 or more bottlenose dolphins. However now we might see 20 in a day, most of which are extremely quick surfaces. We still have a few adventurous dolphins that bow ride occasionally which makes for an exciting distraction during the day.

As the number of dolphin sightings have decreased the number of bird species has increased. The annual migration is in full swing. In addition to our daily sightings of brown pelicans, laughing gulls, cormorants, and terns we now have white pelicans (which are an amazing sight), Northern gannets, and a number of gull species.

The white pelicans are primarily seen around an island here that is a known breeding ground for numerous bird species. They stand out among the other birds in the area because of their large size and color. White pelicans are even larger than their relative, the brown pelican and they are a brilliant snow white color with black tipped wings which are only visible in flight.

Northern Gannet in flight

The North gannets are usually at the southern end of our project area. They never ride the draft of the ship like the other birds in the area. However, they can be spotted searching and diving the waters about 300′ from the ship for fish. Occasionally they can also be seen simply bobbing at the surface taking a break from hunting.

Although the daylight isn’t as long and the weather is not as comfortable as it was over the summer, there are still beautiful and amazing sights to be seen at sea each and every day. All you have to do is keep and eye out and observe.

After being home for a few weeks while the ship I have been working on was in dry dock I was finally able to return to work on the 8th. There are always a few minor glitches to work out when a ship begins to work again after being pulled out of the water for work. However, at the beginning of this tour there was something more than small glitches – there was Hurricane Ida! Of course when we mobilized Ida was forecast to diffuse into nothing more than a thunderstorm and likely head towards the west coast of Florida. After just 7 hours of being aboard we get news that Ida is heading directly toward our location and it is a hurricane. The seas had already begun to increase offshore (7-10′) and for our flat-bottom ship this made for an extremely rocky and approaching unsafe ride. So we head to anchor to ride out Hurricane Ida.

A view from the bridge during the storm

Luckily Ida was downgraded to a Tropical Storm the next morning so instead of going into the dock we remained on anchor. For the next 36 hours we listened to the wind whip and whistle through cables, rain pelt the ship, and waves crash against the hull as we rolled around in 6′ seas. All this inclement weather didn’t deter the dolphins. Once morning came and light emerged we saw a feeding pod of 15 animals hanging ~300′ off the stern of the ship. They stayed around nearly the entire time we were anchored moving from our ship to the Coast Guard buoy tender anchored beside us.

For someone who chose a career where she could be outside, nearly 24 hours being cooped up inside the house of a ship can make you a little stir-crazy. Although it was still windy, the rain eventually stopped and I was finally able to go outside and enjoy the fresh air.

At last the following morning the winds and seas had calmed enough where we could begin working again. As the day progressed the clouds dissipated and the sun began to shine making for a beautiful day.

Although we had our pod of dolphins with us while we were on anchor there was very little marine life spotted once we left the anchorage. However, there are migrating sea birds in the area now, including juvenile gannets, terns, plovers, and numerous species of gulls.

As the end of my shift nears – I bid you a good day, and ask that you check back soon.

My office

Nearly every person I meet nowadays is in awe that I am a marine biologist. When I meet people and they ask what I do for a living 99% of the time the next thing out of their mouth is “Wow that is so cool, I wanted to be a marine biologist”. Has being a marine biologist become what children dream of becoming when they grow up instead of firemen, ballerinas, doctors, and policemen? Did movies and TV shows like The Abyss, Seaquest DSV, Seinfeld and Finding Nemo inspire an entire generation? Don’t get me wrong I’m pleased that my chosen profession is something that kids aspire to become. However, it isn’t easy work. There is a lot of education required and once you graduate the competition is fierce and the pay, well to quote one of my professors “If you are in this to get rich you need to choose another major…we choose this career because we love what we do and want to help and learn more from the oceans NOT become rich.” Of the people I went to school with there are only a handful that are actually working in the marine biology field, like I said competition is fierce. Fortunately I am one of the lucky ones to have a successful career doing something I enjoy and to top it off I get to work with protected, threatened and endangered species. I began working with manatees and cetaceans then added North Atlantic Right Whales to my list and finally sea turtles.

How you may ask am I able to work with all these animals? After many years working with marine mammals for various government agencies I discovered there was something called a Marine Endangered Species Observer or MESO for short. A MESO is certified by the National Marine Fisheries Service (NMFS) as capable of sighting and identifying marine mammals, sea turtles, and sturgeons. Observers work on a variety of projects ranging from commercial dredging to beach nest survey for sea turtles and migratory birds and pretty much any other activities that may impact marine protected/threatened/endangered species.

We work as self-employed contractors and travel where the work is taking place. This means we can work when we like and have the opportunity to work in numerous locations with a variety of species. Projects are fairly constant throughout the year, but there are slow periods. Project lengths vary and typically there are no weekends off. Currently I am not on a project, but should be returning in a few weeks, so check back soon to discover what adventures await this observer.

Coming Soon!

This blog is under construction but will be live very soon!  Please check back regularly as I hope to have this figured out in the next couple of weeks or so.

This will be an account of a Marine Endangered Species Observer’s daily account of life on the job.