In this second instalment, MSci Biodiversity and Conservation student David Blahout recounts his experience his research expedition in Croatia, with the Operation Wallacea programme. Despite the challenges (both pandemic and otherwise), he witnessed some truly astounding moments while studying a wealth of nature.
Imagine you are in a foreign country in the middle of nowhere. It’s 4 am, and you’ve just woken up with heavy eyes after you’ve spent the last night looking for nocturnal snakes. There are about 20 minutes for breakfast before your peers, and you have to leave for a bird survey in a nearby forest full of thorns. Most people would give up on it. Yet you still do it because the first caught long-tail tit makes it all worth it. Operation Wallacea’s (Opwall) research expeditions may not be the most comfortable, but they offer the most intense field research experience I have witnessed. It’s the perfect starting opportunity in biodiversity research for all of those who are adventurous, curious and can’t help being out there in nature.
I was fortunate to be a part of it this summer, after postponing my expedition for a year. Frankly, I nearly gave up on joining my adventures as my original dream to see pink dolphins in Peru got crushed by the Lambda variant of Covid, which surged throughout Latin America. However, I already had some money from work and grants saved up. I didn’t want to wait another year. In January, I had reconsidered my choice for Transylvania, but again, I couldn’t be sure what would happen. Finally, I switched to a two-week terrestrial expedition in Krka National Park in Croatia. It was the safest bet, and as it turned out, the correct one. I talk about this because I want to illustrate how difficult choosing an expedition has become recently. I got lucky with my choice since neither the Peruvian or Transylvanian field trip went ahead. An interesting case of ‘luck favours the bold’.
My expedition started at the Split airport, where I was picked up by Opwall staff. Right after the landing, it became clear that the mood in the camp would be relaxed and friendly. All students, staff and scientists were on the same boat. We were all there to do science and enjoy wildlife. Our days consisted of three sections, each including a survey.
All of the surveys were engaging and rewarding regardless of whether we collected data on birds, butterflies, bats, reptiles or just the general state of the habitat. Every day I looked forward to seeing more and more new species. I got to work with snakes for the first time, and learned how to mark them for a census. Our long Pollard walks instructed me in the basics of butterfly surveying. I certainly won’t forget the early mornings rewarded by close encounters with numerous birds, or the long nights spent sampling bat parasites at a pond beneath a starry night. All of the surveys engage you so much that you become willing to give up an hour or two of your sleep. That’s how good they were.
All of the surveys engage you so much that you’re willing to give up an hour or two of your sleep.
The highlight, however, was the sighting of an Olm. These rare cave salamanders are incredibly difficult to find. The impression that we got from our amphibian experts painted this creature as nearly mythical. But on one afternoon, we went into a deep cave and observed an underground lake. And there it was. The Olm, no bigger than a slowworm, was feeding on tiny cave shrimps in the glare of our head torches. We were all stunned and couldn’t comprehend the situation.
I think that this moment summarises the very best of the Opwall experience. I recommend always going for opportunities such as this one. No one ever knows which rarity you might discover. And I know that I will brag about the Olm for a long time!
If you enjoyed David’s article and want to get in touch, you can email him via your UCL email address.