I have a thick scar on my foot |26 August 2013

I have used a machete on three occasions in my life. The third time I used a machete was on Aride Island. The machete left a gash on the sole of my foot. (A machete is a large cleaver-like knife.)

My considerable experience and enthusiasm for wildlife research and conservation at home in Ireland have prepared me about as much for life as a volunteer on Aride as my previous machete-wielding experiences prepared me to use a machete on June 25 last. My day on Aride consists of a series of fumbles and stumbles, boat launches, Fodies defecating in my kitchen, collection and entry of data, and maybe a Seybrew in the evening. Seychelles appears different from Ireland in almost every aspect I can see. It seems that the only thing here that resembles my life at home is my own clumsiness. I make mistakes constantly. A stream of stumbles with occasional glimmers of brilliance – that’s me.

Having had 23 years to become accustomed to my own clumsiness, it doesn’t bother me. In fact I don’t think I’d enjoy life without it. The mistakes I’ve made have shown me a lot more than the things I got right first time. Wrong turns on my bike have taken me to beautiful, hidden parts of Ireland. As for my life on Aride, everything is new and therefore I get almost everything wrong first time. But I’m learning, slowly.  I’ve gathered a hand-full of Creole curse words; I’m getting steadier as I climb the island’s granite boulders; I’m getting used to the methods for the various monitoring projects.

Maybe in another month I’ll be able to claim that I’m ‘good’ at understanding Creole, or ‘good’ at spotting Fairy Tern nests. Maybe not, maybe it doesn’t matter if I get good at anything. The important thing is that I do what I can for conservation and research. And maybe I’d rather not get accustomed to life on Aride - I would prefer to remain fascinated by this place.

It would be terrible if I became complacent or bored at the sight of looming Frigate Birds and swinging Sooty Terns. I still get a little bit scared by the screech of Tropical Shearwaters as I walk in the dark to turn on the island’s generator. That’s ok – they make a scary sound. I like that I’m still awestruck by the sun rising over the eastern hill and setting on the west. It’s good that I know I may stumble on the boulders – it makes me careful, and care must be taken because Shearwaters have burrows just under the surface.

Maybe soon I’ll be able to handle a machete with dexterity. Dexterity will mean nothing though, if I haven’t learned to be careful when the machete is out of my hands, stuck into the soil behind me: waiting for me to step back and cut my foot. This is real experience – it happens to you by mistake and you learn from it.

Darragh Murphy
Volunteer of the Island Conservation Society