As a newly-minted graduate, the many options for ways to spend the rest of my life seemed overwhelming. My parents had been self-employed my whole life as fishermen, and the 9-5, 2-weeks-of-vacation-a-year sort of job frankly scared the living daylights out of me. I envisioned being a lock-step robot, doomed to tread the ruts of life until retirement, whereupon one could look forward to a nice cruise or two, too elderly for real adventures. Who wanted that kind of life?
After a minor young-life crisis, I found a way forward. A job where I could work outside, with wildlife even, and have the flexibility to adjust and adapt. For the next three years I worked seasonally with seabirds, becoming part of a special group of people: wildlife technicians. (Wildlife techs also encompasses plant and other ecology/biology techs for the purposes of this article.)
Wildlife techs are a unique breed. They tend to be intelligent, driven, and adaptable, with a laser-like fascination with a specific taxa of wildlife or plants - sometimes even sporting a tattoo commemorating this. The jobs they do are difficult and demanding, often in terrible weather or difficult terrain, and require a level of adaptability and creativity that most jobs do not. Many wildlife techs would wilt in an office, but rise magnificently to the occasion when there's a strange problem to solve. How do we collect reliable drinking water in backcountry Alaska? How do we tag this sea duck species safely and humanely so we can track migration patterns? How do we move this emergency tsunami pod, which weighs several hundred pounds, a half mile up the beach and onto a hill without the aid of a truck or forklift?
In addition to creativity and innovation, grit is another quality wildlife techs have in spades. This is what compels them to go out on unpaved roads in the middle of the night with mountain lions and trigger-happy weed growers lurking, in search of the faint calls from threatened owls. This propels someone, when the boat has drug its anchor in high seas all way to the abandoned, rotting piling forest, to go forth and rescue it using only a kayak. Or to go rescue a stranded crew in 6 foot seas. To leap overboard in a survival suit into arctic waters because that's the only way to get to the field site.
Wildlife techs are the smartest, strongest bunch of people I've worked with. They do glorious, hard, meaningful work for the simple joys of being outdoors and interacting with wildlife.
They are also perpetual vagabonds, doomed to a succession of underpaid jobs, because that's the price of chasing your dreams.
The demands and rewards of the wildlife tech jobs result in a system of amazing, but seasonal, positions. Many organizations can't afford to pay someone full-time for the work they do, but the job is so unique and interesting that they can get young biologists to do it for peanuts. (See Texas A&M listings for manatee or fairy wren volunteers- some jobs you pay to do.)
So while you may have the opportunity to work in backcountry Alaska, watch birds for a living, or handle wolves, you don't necessarily know what you're doing for income in the fall. No healthcare, no retirement, no guarantees. If you’re lucky your employers provide a monthly salary and housing or a stipend for food for the season. If you’re unlucky they provide a stipend of around $30/day, maybe enough to touch housing, grocery, and transport bills, but probably not student loans, insurance, and phone bills too (and yes, phone bills are kind of part of the cost of living now. If you don't have a real computer, I bet you have a pocket computer to navigate life on- managing healthcare, email, contacts, etc).
Wildlife techs spend many years drifting from job to job, often spending a few consecutive summers doing the same thing (working with teens, with owls, with endangered plants), while spending the winter living with parents, working a nothing job, or collecting unemployment; anything to stay solvent. Most or all of us are/were on Medicaid.
Why not do something else? A good question. Many do, eventually. For a while it's good to live this way, always new adventures and new stories to tell. The intangible benefits are worth it. I've held tiny saw-whet owls in the palm of my hand and red-tailed hawks by their legs, before sending them on their way. I've seen a family of sea otters cavort below me in the sea, oblivious to my presence. I nearly had a humpback whale overturn my boat, and have watched thousands of breeding terns raise a summer's worth of chicks.
A hundred reasons to endure instability.
But this anchor-less life eventually wears on you. Very few find a permanent position, usually in academia or government. Those spots are occupied by a previous generation who hasn't retired yet. Or when they do retire, the job is phased out. Or filled by two people who work 19 hours a week and aren’t entitled to benefits. Or they hire people as independent contractors, who also aren't entitled to any benefits. State and local agencies are told to do more with less funding, and jobs disappear from one generation to the next. Every person working in the field is struggling to move up somehow. From all my conversations and experiences, it's like trying to swim against a strong current. Both my old crew leads had their Master's degree, something we all aspired to (an MS is supposed to be your ticket upwards), but were still working seasonally.
I know this state of things began to wear on me. From 2014-2018, I had at least 10 different addresses. And for 3 summers I lived in a tent on an island 6 days out of the week. I maintained a long distance relationship with the patient man who would eventually become my husband. There were many reasons people leave wildlife work- no stability, no way to move up, no benefits, bad pay, strain on personal relationships; the list goes on. For myself, I also began to realize that the particular job I was doing amounted to very little in the long run, and the real problem was a lack of education. (Government agencies are great at creating problems, and terrible at finding good solutions. (For more reading, see Beach Grass on Oregon Dunes, Introduction of Scotch Broom, etc.))
I wanted stability, and with it health care, sick leave, dependable employment, a home I could stay in for a solid year (or more!). Some flexibility and creativity would be nice too, and time to do adventures. (The old fishing calendar is so deeply embossed on my psyche, I still think of the year in two parts: school season, and fishing season.) I also wanted to do something that would make the world a little better place. And I felt that teaching would handily check all those boxes. It's a good ride so far.
From an abject fear of stable jobs, I have come to appreciate them. Doing what I do now is much better for my personal life and my community. And I've called a place home for over two years now.
I do wish that it was more doable to continue working in wildlife biology. Maybe in time there will be more places for wildlife techs to continue doing what they love, and receive the pay they deserve for that work. It should be possible to chase dreams and still make a livable wage. What we can do is help make decisions that place value on science and conservation: vote thoughtfully, become involved in your local organizations like Audubon and Native Plants Society, and educate. Maybe in the future there will be a union for techs too.
In the meantime, most of us wildlife techs eventually find a niche. We are adaptable. We make it work.
Post Script.
As I was writing this, the following job posting appeared on the Conservation Job Board. It is a particularly egregious example of the strange contrast between expectations of the hiring organization and the job applicant. Be assured, there will be many people applying for this position.
This is listed as "On-call Biologist", job type Temporary:
"[Our organization] is seeking highly motivated and talented junior- to mid-level biologists to join our interdisciplinary staff for on-call positions. We are looking for biologists interested in applying their knowledge of California fish, wildlife and/or flora to a variety of projects in the greater Los Angeles region.
...Field efforts may be scheduled on short notice and field personnel will need to confirm their availability or unavailability for a given field effort on short notice. Applicants need not be available for every field effort.
Depending on the project, the field technician may be responsible for:
Pre-construction surveys and/or construction monitoring as part of project permit compliance
Fish, wildlife and/or botanical surveys including habitat assessments
Data processing including recording and entering data with quality control checks
Maintaining good communication with field lead or project manager
Supporting report production through writing and construction of tables, figures, and appendices.
The ideal applicant should have:
A minimum of a BS or BA in biology or natural resource field with 1–2+ years’ experience in the environmental field
Excellent fish, wildlife and/or plant identification skills, preferable with a technical specialty (e.g., birds, herpetofauna, small mammals, aquatic ecology, plants, etc.)
Experience conducting special-status fish, wildlife and/or plant species surveys or habitat assessments in southern California
Southern California botanical knowledge, including familiarity with California vegetation community types
Ability to work as part of a team
Endurance to work long days (10- to 14-hours)
Good attitude and ability to hike to remote and steep field locations in all types of weather
Competency to follow directions and field safety protocols
Solid navigational skills using maps and GPS
Excellent writing and communication skills
Proficiency with Microsoft Word and Excel software programs
Attention to detail and commitment to sound science
For an on-call, seasonal position, do these seem like reasonable expectations?
The way this field operates will not change overnight. There are systemic issues and compounding factors that contribute to the state of things. Remember what you can do: vote to fund science, get involved, and educate.
If you're new to the wildlife field, my apologies if I've discouraged you. There are always ways forward, and jobs do exist. Just be prepared to adapt, and to compromise.
Thanks for writing this Bristol! Beautiful pictures and great work all around!