Fig. 1: Mugecis, Kenneth, and Doug (L-R). From this cell phone shot, taken by Ivan, it is clear that we're early in the study because I have not yet burned to a crisp!
In case it's not totally obvious, we're having unexpected (for me, at least) difficulty finding shoebills to study. Since getting use of the Uganda Wildlife Authority boat and rangers about ten days ago, we've had only three sessions actually watching shoebills hunt, two with an adult male and one with an adult female (the male's likely mating partner, as they were both in the same marsh/swamp). The reason for this is evident in hindsight: I chose the month of October for two dubious reasons: (a) anticipated relaxation of covid travel restrictions/risks and (b) the desire to catch hatching for a study of behavior at the nest. Shoebills are among the handful of avian species known to practice 'obligate siblicide' (where the first-hatched chick almost always kills its hapless nestmate), so it seemed to me that I might park GoPro video set-ups by some nests and catch the action. Boy, was I naive!
Instead, the reality on the ground is that it's rainy season, which means there's a LOT of water and the suitable swamp/marsh habitats are vastly expanded. Shoebills are dispersed accordingly and their behavior during breeding is more secretive (less accessible for observation). Accordingly, instead of being able to double up on projects, observing foraging while collecting remote video records for later analysis of fatal sibling rivalry, we're scrambling hard to get even the observations of hunting behavior. Moreover, I'm now understanding more about why I forcefully advised my research students to pick very common, easily observed, and "data rich" study animals: otherwise, you spend all your time searching for subjects!
The laugh's on me. But one must learn from one's mistakes and forge ahead. (And more to the point, I'm now a retired old fart who differs from research advisees in not really having to produce impressive data sets!)
Meanwhile, here I am with a month in freaking AFRICA and for a field biologist, this is more than a treat! All the other visitors to Pakuba Safari Lodge are here as tourists, rising each morning and pouring into their guide-driven Land Cruisers to go forth and see elephants, lions, giraffes, hippos, hyaenas, antelopes, buffalos, wart hogs, and Cape buffalo. But Kenneth and I rise, eat the same breakfast, then take prepacked lunches and are escorted by Mugecis, a Uganda Wildlife Authority ranger, down a kilometer-long trail through high-grass and Nile-edge forest of acacia and palm trees to a UWA boat and Ivan, a second ranger tending it. We do not walk this path without the ranger because he carries a semi-automatic rifle to deter dangerous animals that might attack/kill us otherwise. Being gored to death by Cape buffalo (or knelt upon by a pissed-off elephant) is deleterious to effective scientific research.
Once in the boat, we shove off and search the riverside swamps for shoebills. Usually we don't find any, thus cannot be scientists. So how do we fill our time from 7 AM to 3 PM? Well, I pretty much become a tourist until we find a shoebill.
But my tourist experience differs in some interesting ways from my lodge neighbors. Most obviously, they are on 7-12 day choreographed junkets with only about three days here at Murchison Falls National Park. And they are most carried about in Toyota Land Cruisers with pop-up tops that allow them to view and photograph thee glamorous mega-vertebrates from a land-based perspective. I'm here for a whole month and will not be moving on to the next national park when time's up and, of course, I get around by boat. Their safety is ensured by staying in their vehicles, mine by armed guards. They are unlikely to see local residents trying to steal wild food from the national park, but my two ranger friends are constantly telling fish poachers to get away from the park limits (where there are more fish to catch).
Unlike my lodge neighbors, I also frequent an ATM in the nearby town of Pakwach so as to pay UWA for boat fuel (a decidedly non-trivial expense) and our two rangers. The ATM limit is 1 million Uganda shillings per day (1,000,000 UGX is about $320 US), which seems to be necessary every few days. So we dock the UWA boat in someone's backyard (he demands !,000 UGX each time...about 32 cents for parking) and walk up the steep bank through a slum into the town, walk or ride a motorcycle taxi ("boda boda") to the bank, secure the cash, and walk back with bulging pockets. I am typically the only Mzungu (white person) in Pakwach on these visits, which arouses a bit of curiosity and, initially, offers to buy things I do not want (e.g., hand-carved bows & arrow sets). I am recognizable, to say the least. One bow-and-arrow salesman greets me, "You're back!" and I am tempted to say, "Back? Do you think all us Mzumgus look alike?"
Another difference is that we re-visit the same habitats, driving along the same stretches of river and swamp repeatedly. You SEE things differently -- less variety and more detail -- . with such repetition. In our best spot for shoebills, we see a lone hippo every day. Kenneth tells me that a solitary hippo is almost certainly one that has been expelled from his/her herd. He delights in badgering the hippo with strings of derisive epithets that sound like Donald Trump or a schoolyard bully antagonizing an outcast 7th grader, making honking noises and jeering at it..."Loser!" This strikes me as inherently unwise, but what do I know of the costs and benefits of hippo-teasing? If our boat stalls, the hippo could easily toss our boat into the air and bite each of us in half afterwards or, more likely, force the rangers to shoot it repeatedly and hope for the best. But it's also very funny because human ostracism is likely of no emotional pain to a hippo. They have notoriously thick skin!
Finally, of course, I am somewhat different from most other tourists by being a field biologist. Animal behavior is what I do. The animals themselves are not 'cute' (well, maybe sea otters...) or cuddly. I am unlikely to think getting a selfie with a Cape buffalo is a good idea, which apparently happens sometimes to people whose sense of danger has been dulled by too much TV watching. To be fair, most tourists understand that these are not tame lions and that elephants are not interested in being pals with them. These animals are seriously big and strong, eliciting a healthy level of respect. We all marvel at them and feel lucky to have seen them up close. Awe is the common denominator, regardless of one's training.
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