Chapter 1

On my first day at the CSIRO’s Division of Entomology, Black Mountain, Canberra, ACT, my ‘boss,’ Kevin, said: “There’s all sorts of work. Here and in the field. You’ll have to do a variety of things. But the important thing will be to take the load off Steve.”

The word “Canberra” is popularly claimed to derive from the word Kambera or Canberry, which is claimed to mean “meeting place” in Ngunnawal, one of the Indigenous languages spoken in the district by Aboriginal Australians before European settlers arrived, although there is no clear evidence to support this. (Wikipedia)

The next morning I found out what that meant. Dr. Shattuck (“Call me Steve”) was involved in a massive project: a book on “Australian Ants” to be published by the CSIRO. He thought it would be a year or so before it was ready for editing. I was to “help and do the drudgery.” I had no notion as to what the “drudgery” entailed. Nor what the rest of the “load” was. But it didn’t take long to find out.

I was assigned an office in the “new” lab building – opened in 1991. I moved my books and specimens over the first two weeks. My “load” was perfect for me. I examined ants. I measured ants. I answered letters about ants (squashed ones enclosed with letter). I located photographs of ants. And I chased down references for Steve. It was sufficiently varied that I was really engaged for six months or so. Then it was just my job.

I visited several of the museums in Canberra and got to an opera or two, that first season. Then I became aware of the active theater scene and of the chamber opera.

My colleagues at Black Mountain held barbies and every one of the wives had friends and acquaintances I “had” to meet. But there was no one I was taken with. In fact, there was none as interesting as Winnie – and I hadn’t seen her in over two years. Nor Laura. (Who did, once, visit for a weekend, after which I realized that I’d never finish Orlando Furiouso.) Oh, I took some of the women to dinner or to a concert or the theater, but twice seemed to be the maximum for any one of them. I got the rep at Black Mountain as a congenial, but unattached loner. I did, frequently enough, have an overnight guest, or visited someone overnight. As one of the blokes put it, I “got my rocks off.”

I also got rid of my aging 4×4, trading it in for a ‘96 Holden Commodore with a V6 engine. It felt very grown-up. My ‘dates’ seemed to like it.

Once the schools restarted, I was sent to a junior school and a senior school to talk about beneficial and destructive insects. I also went to South Australia in September and to Tasmania to “represent CSIRO Entomology.”

As it’s impossible to fly directly to Port Augusta, I flew to Adelaide and went to the South Australia Museum, where I visited the parasite collection. [The South Australian Museum is home to Australia’s most important repository of preserved parasites, the Australian helminthogical collection, also known as the parasitology collection. There are over 42,000 specimen ‘lots’ in total.] I’d not done much work on parasites, so I really paid attention to the exhibits. But the reason for my trip was to act as the formal representative of the CSIRO at the opening of the Australian Arid Lands Botanic Garden. The Garden features Australian and overseas plants from arid environments within its 250 hectares, just north of Port Augusta. I was polite and shook a lot of hands. I added eremophila to my vocabulary. [“Eremophila is a genus of more than 260 species of plants in the figwort family, Scrophulariaceae all of which are endemic to mainland Australia.” Wikipedia] I’d known one sort as “emu bush,” the Garden’s collection was more than merely impressive.

My trip to Hobart in November was truly investigatory. Though it was a medical problem, it was decidedly entomological. There was a suspected case of Ross River Virus (RRV). Possibly more than one. They had sent several (dead) mosquitoes. A cursory glance showed that both aedes and culex were present, but two were obviously culex annulirostris (the common banded mosquito), which can carry both RRV and Barmah Forest Virus. [Ross River virus (RRV) is a small encapsulated single-strand RNA Alphavirus endemic to Australia, Papua New Guinea and other islands in the South Pacific. It is responsible for a type of mosquito-borne non-lethal but debilitating tropical disease known as Ross River fever, previously termed “epidemic polyarthritis”. Barmah Forest is similar but less severe than Ross River virus and symptoms, including joint pain, tiredness, headaches and muscle pain, which can last for months.]

I flew into Hobart via Melbourne and was met by a bloke from Environmental Health Services. We took a taxi to the Royal Hobart Hospital. I introduced myself on the ride. His name was Harry. We chatted a bit. It turned out his major interest was pollution and toxicology.

At the Hospital we were shown into an office. There it was explained to me that two “young people” had sailed to Maria Island and, while there, had been bitten by mosquitoes. Several days later the “girl” had complained of pains and a local doctor had referred her “here.” From her symptoms, it had been diagnosed as RRV. I mentioned that Barmah Forest Virus was similar to RRV.

The physician remarked “I’ve never heard of a case of Barmah Forest in Tasmania”

“Nowadays you can catch anything anywhere on the planet and take it anywhere else in under 24 hours. And air travel may kill all of us.” I thought for a moment. “Could we get to this island?”

“What for?”

“Mosquito samples.”

Harry hadn’t said anything up til now, but he was paying attention.

“Now?”

“Why not?” I opened my case and put two collection vials in my jacket pocket. There was a small magnifier built into my knife. I grabbed a grease pencil. “Let’s go.”

“Not a good idea.”

“Oh?”

“Let me call the Rangers. Driving over an hour to learn there’s no ferry won’t be helpful. They might even be willing to fetch us by ‘copter.”

“You win.”

“On top of that, we’re not sure exactly where those kids went.”

“Also true. No sense in being hasty. Can we talk to the kids?”

“The girl’s here still under observation.”

“‘Lead on, MacDuff.’”

“That’s not right. Macbeth has ‘Lay on, MacDuff’.”

“Picky, Harry.”

We were shown into a room where Hannah was propped in bed. I introduced myself. Then I asked: “Can you tell me what the mosquitoes that bit you looked like?”

“Like mosquitoes.”

“How about their bodies? Were they greenish or yellowish?”

“No. Sort of stripey.”

“‘Stripey’? The long way?”

“Oh, no! Stripes around the body.”

“You’re sure?”

“Oh, yes. One sat on my arm. Right around here.” She pointed to her lower right bicep.

“Thank you very much. That’s extremely helpful.” I nodded at Harry and we left.

We made our way back to the sister’s cubicle. “Can we see that doctor again?” I asked.

“Sure.” She made a PA announcement. A few minutes later he appeared.

“I don’t think you’ve anything to worry about. She was bitten by one or more female asian tigers.”

“Asian tigers?”

“Sorry. Asian tiger mosquitoes. They can transmit numerous diseases including Eastern Equine Encephalitis (EEE), West Nile virus, and dengue. As I’ve never heard of triple-E in Australia and West Nile is rarely transmitted to humans, I think they’re out. You might test her for dengue, if you care which type it is; but my guess is that fluids and acetaminophen will do the trick. Stay away from aspirin as it’s a blood thinner.”

“Right. We won’t do more testing. The important thing is that it’s not RRV.”

“I’m certain it’s not.”

We shook hands and he was off to tend someone. I looked at Harry.

“It’s just time for late lunch. Can you take us? It’s on me.”

“You eat seafood? There’s a great place near the airport.”

“Sounds good.”

In the taxi, Harry asked: “Why’d you say ‘female asian tigers’?”

“Male tiger mosquitoes don’t bite.” He nodded.

We each had a fine, large “fisherman’s basket” – fried prawns, scallops, a bug, and some fish and three raw oysters. I ignored the fried potatoes. We took yet another taxi to the nearby airport and Harry left me. I gave him one of my cards and told him he’d feature in my report. I then transformed into a government bureaucrat at the Virgin counter and was on my way to Melbourne in under an hour. There, I wasn’t quite as lucky, but did get onto a flight at 1700. Back in Canberra is just twelve hours, exhausted.