More Science in Brazil

Part 4. A Different Kind of Environmentalist

Forrest M. Mims III

Editor's Note: The author's research for NASA in Brazil's Amazon basin in 1995 was described in three previous columns (see Part 1, 2 and 3). This is the final installment of a series about expanded research in Brazil during 1997 (see Part 1 , 2 and 3).

Last time Brad White and I were at the remote Cristalino River in the Amazon basin. The Cristalino is a favorite destination for bird watchers. We had met Bob, a compassionate Australian guide whose bird watching client was a paraplegic.

But there was another side to Bob, as we learned when the bird watchers found a dead bird a few kilometers up the river bank.

"He who killed the bird himself should be killed!" Bob proclaimed at supper.

He then announced that helicopter gun ships should kill those who burn the rain forest. Brad and I were there to study the atmospheric effects of the smoke from the massive burning. While we often reflected on the environmental destruction we saw, it never occurred to us that the best way to stop the burning was to kill the fire starters with armed helicopters.

That evening at supper, the conversation turned from Bob's praise of Charles Darwin, who visited Australia during his voyage on the HMS Beagle, to his hatred of Australian aborigines.

"They're garbage people!" Bob blurted. Those were his exact words. He then laughed and said they should be bulldozed along with their houses. Brad and I were so stunned by Bob's outbursts that we began recording them in our notebooks.

The next evening the topic turned to the destruction of tropical forests. Bob said that a few Chinese businessmen in Malaysia were responsible for most of the logging in the tropics. He then proceeded to ridicule Chinese people in general.

If there's one thing we need, it's an environmental assassination squad!" Bob announced. These were his exact words recorded in my field notebook. By then he almost had me convinced that Chinese businessmen are as wicked as Caucasian racists.

Earlier Bob's attitude toward Brad and me had cooled when we asked him questions for which he had no answers. It was bridge burning time, so I asked Bob how he liked his steak.

"Fine," he replied. "It's really quite good."

"It's rain forest steak, you know," I said. "The cattle were raised on pastures that were once rain forest filled with birds."

Bob made no reply. He glared into space as he wolfed down his steak.

A gentler kind of environmentalist worked at the river lodge. He was an American a few years older than Brad. He often told us that he was god, but his real name was Ken.

One day after the noon measurements, Ken took us on a canoe trip to see some huge Brazil nut trees. As we were leaving the biggest of the giants, we looked back and saw Ken praying to the tree and asking it to forgive us for disturbing it.

Back at the canoe, Ken went for a swim in the Cristalino while Brad and I stowed our cameras and equipment. While Ken was chanting that he was god, we wondered how he managed to stay in the water so long without being devoured by piranhas are attacked by the various parasitic creatures that lurked in the water.

Later, Ken told us he had developed a bad rash that constantly worried him. He showed us a large red patch on his waist. Ken said he had asked the lodge people to bring him some ointment on their next trip to Alta Floresta, but none had arrived. So I suggested he use his divine powers to heal himself. Suddenly Ken had to face the prospect that he was not a god. He looked totally dejected, and thereafter we never heard him claiming to be a god. Brad and I helped get some ointment for the humbler Ken.

Our adventure on the Cristalino ended much to soon. Back in Alta Floresta, we retrieved a sunlight data logger that I concealed on a roof before we left, downloaded all the data into a memory card for safekeeping, washed our clothes and enjoyed a final steak dinner before leaving for Sao Paulo.

Dr. Paulo Artaxo, who had provided the official invitation to do research in Brazil, sent a message asking me to give a seminar at the University of Sao Paulo. This caused some major last minute changes in our plans, and two days later we finally arrived at the university. It was a strange experience to be in such a huge, busy city after nearly three weeks in such a remote region of Brazil.

After the seminar, I asked Dr. Artaxo how many other scientists were in Brazil for the burning season.

"Just you two!" he replied.

Dozens of scientists had been in Brazil during the 1995 burning season. This time NASA had not been allowed to conduct research during the burning season. Brazil's tiny group of smoke scientists were preoccupied with serious pollution in Sao Paulo. Suddenly our data became very important. It was the only data.

At the airport we remembered the woman who tried to cheat me when we changed money on arrival. So we went to a different bank to change our Brazilian money back to dollars. The teller sat at a desk with an armed guard standing to his right. When the teller tried to cheat me by failing to count one of the large bills, Brad and I burst out laughing. The teller frowned, recounted the money and gave me the correct amount.

After we made it through the maze of security and were in line to board our plane, three airline people ran up shouting "Brad White! Brad White!" They insisted that Brad go with them so they could search his checked baggage. I assumed Brad's big knife looked suspicious when x-rayed.

But Brad's bag had not caused the problem. It was my instrument case, which Brad had checked for me. Soon more gate agents returned and insisted that I come with them. When I asked for Brad, they said he had been taken to the plane.

The armed agents whisked me off in a security van to an isolated area apparently reserved for suspected bomb inspections. Some of my sunlight sensors resemble bullets when x-rayed, and that's what caused the problem. Someday I need to redesign those things. Anyway, I showed them how they worked, and they then drove me to the plane.

Brad was already on board, having been taken to the plane earlier by the same van. The other passengers had to take a crowded bus to the plane, but we were taken to the plane like VIPs. As the plane prepared to leave, Brad and I agreed that our special trip to the plane was a fitting way to culminate our three weeks of hard work in smoky Brazil. Later I learned that our scientific findings were even more exciting than that final adventure.

This concludes two sets of articles for The Citizen Scientist about my adventures in Brazil in 1995 and 1997. Brazil is a fantastic country. Cuiaba reminds me of parts of Texas. Alta Floresta is like a frontier town in a vast forest. The people are friendly, courteous and considerate. The attempted theft by the airport bank tellers in Sao Paulo was made up for by the very helpful and totally honest tellers in the interior. I'll never forget the compassionate manner in which nurses gingerly placed two badly injured wood cutters on a commercial flight to a big city hospital. If I did not live in the United States, I would live in Brazil. I hope to write much more about doing science in Brazil in a future memoir. If ever you have a chance to tour Brazil, stop everything and go.

Forrest M. Mims III and his science are featured online at www.forrestmims.org.