I´d like to thank the governor of Alaska for...

My footsteps are slow, steady. They have life. They plod along the saturated mud, a dark brown. As I move, the boot tread lifts the brown to show a charcoal black print on the tideflats. The bay curves around, and from here I can see the mainland, a giant volcano in the distance, but only when its clear; and the smell of decomposing algae fills the air - an agreeable and nostalgic smell, almost fishy, until it gets directly under your nose and becomes half nauseating. I walk with ten other people to hide in the reeds that line the edge of this remote chilote beach to wait.
We read, chat, sleep, eat, we laugh and we take bets on numbers. Once or twice dolphin fins are seen slicing the surface of the quiet bay.

After three hours and much radio communication, the tension starts. Its like the hour before a race: you know what to do - everyone does - but Jim´s orders on the radio become more frequent - "Steve, please move slowly along the beach and see what happens" ; "Nathan, can you please cross the river and walk toward me very slowly" ; "Jiji, arm the box".
Our hearts are pounding. We crouch in the reeds, ready to run. The only one standing now are Jim and Humphry, looking through binoculars and telescope ona tripod. From time to time they speak in hushed tones. No one else says a word, we are almost holding our breaths, but every time we do breath, the rising tide and the light breeze that has started, bring the comforting smell of algae to our nostrils.
We wait.
Jim comes on the radio again and he mumbles something. BANG!! The canons go off and the net flies out. Before it lands, thousands of shore birds are in the air, crying in surprise. Confusion is everywhere, except in the reeds, where everyone knows what to do. We run to the net, across the soppy beach, through grasses, mud, water, slimy seaweed. Birds sweep away in the hundreds in different directions and by the time we reach the net the only sounds are our heaving breaths, the breeze and the frightened birds trapped in the net.
We then take the birds one by one into keeping cages, from which we bring them to be "processed." Each person has a job, some put number or colour tags on the legs, some take blood, some weigh the birds and Humphry examines plummage to determine age... Then we let them go.

I met Jean-Francoise and Myriam in Puerto Varas almost three weeks ago. We stayed in the same hostal for one night and that was it. They are biologists from Quebec and were going to Chiloe to study birds with a project run by the Alaska conservation organization (i think thats what its called). I headed to the same place, Chiloe, because those were my plans and after a few emails and much confusion Myriam told me they were in some cabins inLlau-Llao near Castro. So after travelling around the island with two Chilean friends that I met in Castro I packed my bags grabbed the first ride i could get to the turn off for Llau-Lao and got on my way. I was dropped off at the turn off, at dirt road, and saw a sign for the cabins so I walked the 1.5km and went to the reception asking for two Canadians. I was led to Jim, the leader of the project (who was naturally quite confused at my arrival). He brought me down to the cabins and my reunion with my canadian friends was enough to lead everyone to believe we were long time friends - oh how the road unites us!
After chatting with Jim about things I ended up, long story short, helping out with the project of catching and tagging these birds. I lived in a cabin with JF and Myriam as well as a gregarious and wonderful Chilean masters student. We all got along so well! Dinner was served and all food was paid for as well as the accomodation about 20 ft from a secluded bay.
I was welcomed into this community of biologists (some of them extremely well-known and powerful in their field) with open arms. I asked hundreds of questions and nobody ever treated me like I was an idiot; they simply explained what was happening or what such and such meant; we talked about politics, (I was surprised - or maybe not - to find out that Alaska as well as being one of the most beautiful states in the US is also among the most conservative). We laughed together, and some even cried when JF, Humphry, his bubbly wife Jacky, and I got in the truck to leave today. A few of us spent the last night on the beach below our cabins, with a fire, a few bottles of wine and a jug of Pisco sour (not me of course).

This is what I love about travelling, and of course what I hate about it as well. As I stood along the highway, alone, with my thumb out, I could feel a lump in my throat, and it hasn´t gone yet but I´m sure it will because this is a roller coaster where the hills are much longer and higher than the lows. As for the road ahead, I don´t know what it brings but I´m hoping some more lumps in my throat because that will be the sign of a beautiful experience!!