Tambarikosy

Often in science, researchers fear their results will not be statistically significant. People are afraid of 'negative' answers. I've always found this rather bizarre, because an answer is an answer, be it yes or no. Especially in science, a negative answer is just as important as an affirmative one – it's not the same as if the question hadn't been investigated in the first place. Anyway, to stop myself before I ramble any further (before I am tempted to write an essay on great answers born from non-significant results)... I was actually glad to find that the results from my research in Payamino over the past year did not yield any statistically significant differences. Analyses of my field work data did not reveal any significant differences in mammal diversity between primary and secondary rainforest samples. I shall post about the results and conclusions at greater length some time, but for now I will just say what the results of this relatively small-scale st...

· 00:20 GMT-5, 2nd July 2012 -  Arrived in Ecuador's capital, Quito, when the airport was still smack bang in the middle of the city. · 18:55 GMT-5, 22nd July 2013 -  Watched the sparkling night lights that sprawl over Quito's mountainous façade shrink beneath the plane that took me from the equator. In an attempt to summarise the uncompressable and spare you my rambling, I've selected five photos from each of the months I spent in Ecuador on industrial placement. They're not necessarily the best photos nor personal favourites, but they all mean or represent something.

Earlier this week, I set out from the Amazonian research station where I am based with with two Kichwa guides, three hammocks, food for two days, and six camera traps. The intention was to place as many camera traps as possible within those two days. Image 1 -  The Churuyaku is born on the west side of Armadillo Hill, Payamino's tallest point, and snakes around until it ends up east of the mountains and near the village, where it spills out into Rio Payamino.

About seven weeks ago, I began the second part of my mammal diversity project, setting camera traps out in primary forest. The largest contiguous tract of primary forest in Payamino is probably that which surrounds and englobes Armadillo Hill, the highest part of Payamino. Armadillo Hill isn't actually that high (700 m at its tallest peak, so just 400 m higher than the research station), but the steep and hilly terrain of the surrounding area makes hiking challenging, especially once off the few trails and in the thick of virgin rainforest. Image 1 - View from the highest peak of Armadillo Hill, looking out onto the low(er)lands.

When you are doing a camera trap project in the Neotropical rainforest, a part of you expects to get all sorts of exotic wildlife, like big cats and fancy herbivores. Really, what you more often end up with, is a lot of rodents and the same deer species, with some birds and the occasional carnivore. After a while camera trapping in pre-determined random places (science, go figure), you still pray that you'll get something large, new, and exciting, but at the same time have resigned to expecting the same species over and over, hoping that you'll at least catch an agouti with a funny pose or a brocket deer pulling a face. Nonetheless, it's always great to look through the latest catch my camtraps have to offer. The locals who work with me (and whoever they may have been talking to about the camera traps) are equally fascinated to see the pictures, even if the animals are more familiar to them than to I. I realise that this is usually because they realise where they can no...

As I mentioned in a previous post , I've never been that big on birds – except penguins, but subconsciously I think my brain does not want to acknowledge them as birds. I'm not sure why, especially given my obsession with dinosaurs, the only living representatives of which are the Aves of today. In my second year of Zoology at the University of Manchester, I became extremely interested in bird physiology, especially their respiratory physiology, and the evolution of avian flight. And I've occasionally painted birds : they're pretty and they sell well. Only recently (now that I live in an avian hotspot) have I started really started to appreciate their diversity and make a genuine effort to understand their taxonomy. Here in the Ecuadorian Amazon I have been conducting a camera trap studies on mammals for several months now, and am considering switching the theme to medium-to-large terrestrial vertebrates, on account of the amount of bird species and individuals s...

When putting out camera traps, I carry a backpack full of photographic equipment, yet I don't usually bring my good camera with me, because often my guide and I cross water on foot or end up floating down Payamino River for 3 km. Unusually, yesterday I had a motorised canoe at my disposal, because I was filling the points of my camtrap grid furthest from camp, and it would have taken me more than one very gruelling day to get them out otherwise. The motorised canoes are wide and strong, and through most things still get wet in them, I'd be comfortable to carry my camera in a dry bag in these boats, as there'd be no need for my camera to be submerged. Unfortunately, I wasn't expecting my guide to turn up until today and so got ready in a fluster yesterday, forgetting my camera.

Figure 1 - Camtrap grid design When people ask what kind of research I am carrying out in Ecuador , there's a part of me that worries my project will sound lazy. Camera trapping – leaving cameras out for 21 days, picking them up, downloading pretty pictures of animals, and putting the cameras back out again. The truth is, it's as tough as any project. Usually I position 2 or 3 cameras at a time until all six the station possesses are out. The maximum distance between each consecutive camera is 1.4 km (if measuring the distance between two cameras placed diagonally in relation to one another on the grid) or 1 km if in the same row or column ( figure 1 ). This does not sound like much – so why position so few cameras at a time? Walking 1 km on a path does not take much time at all; walking 1 km down a forest trail (especially if you're used to the relief of the jungle floor and don't get stuck in mud) shouldn't take much longer. But walking 1 km through unc...

From the lastest camera trap placement comes this little guy... Leopardus pardalis  captured by a camera trap placed in Payamino secondary rainforest, Ecuadorian Amazon. © Xaali O'Reilly

Admittedly, I am very bad at birds. Their beauty and diversity fascinates me, though I am far more interested in their respiratory physiology and the fact their dinosaurian ancestors. However, I now think we know most of these guys, thanks to the help of fellow zoologist Terry Garner, who pointed me in the right direction for most of them, and University of Glasgow MSc student Carly Aulicky for confirming their identity – cheers guys! Image 1 - N octurnal curassow,  Nothocrax urumutum . © X O'Reilly

Unfortunately, my main research project while I'm in Ecuador does not concern bromeliads or involve climbing trees – that is a side project I'm doing as a way of continuing the work I started during the Tropical Biology field course this summer, out of personal interest. My principle project here is just about as interesting as well as probably providing information and materials more useful for conservation efforts, rather than simply sating my own curiousity. I'm studying the differences in mammal diversity between primary and secondary rainforests, using camera traps.

Picture from a camera trap set-up outside a tarantula burrow. This is its resident, Susana. © Xaali O'Reilly, 2012

© Xaali O'Reilly, 2012

August 2012 – This time round, got more than just biologists on the camera traps – below is a tayra ( Eira barbara ) and a lowland or spotted paca ( Cuniculus paca ). Tayra, Eira barbara.  © Xaali O'Reilly, 2012 Lowland paca,   Cuniculus paca.  © Xaali O'Reilly, 2012 September 2012 – From a third camera trap trial, agoutis and a squirrel: Agouti,  Dasyprocta punctata.  © Xaali O'Reilly, 2012 Agouti, Dasyprocta punctata.  © Xaali O'Reilly, 2012 Squirrel, Sciurus sp.   © Xaali O'Reilly, 2012

Sitting in hotel reception wondering if there's any coffee in this milk. Been suffering from caffeine withdrawal symptoms ever since crawling out of the jungle and into town. You'd think there'd be coffee in every eatery in South America (or I did) – not the case, unfortunately; not in Ecuador at least.