2019-05-01 Outdoor Photographer

A

s the day breaks on a foggy
February morning, I’m in a
metal boat on Rio Eiru in the
western Amazon with a wildlife biolo-
gist and a local guide. We scan the tree-
tops for the elusive Vanzolini’s saki,
a black monkey about 3 feet long with
an impressive fluffy tail, golden fur
on its forearms and legs, and hair like
a crooked toupee. I have two cameras
in dry bags on my lap and am ready
to document the search for this rare
creature not seen alive by scientists
since 1936.
I met Dr. Laura Marsh, the lead sci-
entist for this expedition in the Bra-
zilian Amazon, by chance over a year

before. Marsh, the world’s expert on

this obscure South American monkey,

and I, an emerging conservation pho-

tographer and writer looking for stories,

met when our flight to a small town in

the western Amazon was canceled due

to fog. Put up in a hotel for a night,

Marsh and I ate dinner together, where

we discovered we lived near each other

in New Mexico. The moment I learned

of her plan to mount an expedition to

find a monkey lost to science for over

80 years, I asked, “How do I get on

your boat?”

Many meetings, phone calls, story

pitches and a year later, I landed an

assignment with a magazine to doc-

ument the expedition. For 42 days, I

lived off a houseboat surveying the

massive watershed where the saki mon-

key was last collected by scientists.

From dawn until dusk, I accompa-

nied teams of Brazilian, Mexican and

American scientists into the field. We

surveyed forests for animals in dug-

out canoes or motorized rowboats and

hiked on what strips of dry land we

could find.

Daily rains filled rivers and lakes,

which burst their banks until the land-

scape became a labyrinth of flooded

forest. Our guides through this maze

were local villagers hired for a day or

two to keep us from getting lost on

trails marked by small broken branches

visible only to them. We paddled care-

fully through a submerged world. One

dink of the canoe against a tree trunk

would often release a torrent of ants

and spiders down upon us.

Documenting a scientific expedition

of this nature is all about action, chance

and a quick hand. Most days I felt like

a photojournalist working to keep up

with events as they unfolded. But I also

saw my role as a conservation photog-

rapher to capture the essence of the

place, with varied images of plants,

animals, landscapes and people. I was

collecting evidence in an effort to

persuade those who have never heard

about the Jurua watershed in the far

western Amazon, and might never visit

it, to care enough about it to protect it.

We did find the missing monkeys.

Yet in a month of searching, I only got

fleeting glimpses of the Vanzolini’s

sakis. The few times we came upon

them in a tree, the encounters lasted

for 10 seconds or less before they

were gone. We tried to follow them

on foot and in the boats, but they were

too fast. After several weeks, my neck

was sore from holding the camera up

to the treetops, my back and legs numb

from being cramped in small canoes

with dry bags on my lap and cameras

at the ready. And I was having the time

of my life.

Expeditions are no longer just for

those intrepid conservation photogra-

phers with a penchant for adventure and

a willingness to suffer for a good story.

Organizations like Earthwatch and Bio-

diversity Group offer photographers the

chance to participate in and document

scientific expeditions in relative luxury

and comfort.

This work has afforded me the oppor-

tunity to experience wild places where

few outsiders ever go, witness breath-

taking beauty and glimpse wildlife still

mostly unknown to science. I’ve been

on several other expeditions in envi-

ronments as varied as the Indian Hima-

layas, Brazilian Pantanal and desert

Southwest. Here are the insights I’ve

gained from these experiences that, if

you’re so inclined, can help you get the

shots you need while working within

the unique schedule of expeditions.

Expedition Planning

Nothing can quite prepare you for a

place you’ve never been before. When

you arrive, it’s important to stay open

to the awe and newness of the place

to capture that for the viewers of your

outdoorphotographer.com May 2019 67

Searching for monkeys in a dugout canoe with one of the many local guides who could

navigate these flooded forests. While the guide was amazingly adept at keeping the

canoe stable, any small movement would dip the sides into the river and soak the boat.

We carried a small plastic jug to scoop out the water. For this shot, I set the camera on

my bent knees to stabilize it and took images in between paddles.