Jungle camp research
Sebastian Brill of the Max Planck Institute for Chemistry in Mainz is investigating how fungal spores and other biological particles influence cloud formation in the atmosphere at the ATTO Research Station in the Amazon. He also shares what it’s like to live in a rainforest camp, where howler monkeys fill the treetops and caimans sometimes turn up in the shower.
It may sound hard to believe, but fungi are essential to the Amazon rainforest’s survival. With their microscopic root-like networks, they unlock nutrients in the soil, making it possible for the towering jungle trees to grow at all. And that is only the beginning: a single fungus can release tens of thousands of spores – per second! Under the right conditions, these tiny particles are carried high into the atmosphere, where they act as seeds for clouds, and clouds bring rain. Fungi are thus a vital part of the Amazon’s water cycle. In my doctoral research, I study how fungal spores and other biological particles travel through the atmosphere. By analysing their chemical composition, I hope to understand their effects in detail.
The ATTO site – the Amazon Tall Tower Observatory – offers ideal conditions for this. A joint German-Brazilian project, it stands deep in the middle of the rainforest, 150 kilometres from the nearest city, Manaus. Getting there takes half a day by car and boat. Here, far removed from human interference, researchers can study how forest, soil, and atmosphere interact in their natural state.
At the heart of the station rises its signature structure: a 325-metre steel tower, bristling with instruments that record meteorological, chemical, and biological data. Some devices are mounted on a small elevator that shuttles ceaselessly up and down, allowing us to create vertical profiles. A spiral staircase – 1,500 steps in all – leads to the top platform. To climb it, scientists must complete a three-day safety course; helmet and harness are mandatory. Climbing the endless staircase in the sticky heat is grueling. But filters for particle sampling have to be changed daily, and instruments constantly serviced and repaired. The effort always pays off: from the top, the view across the unbroken sea of treetops is simply spectacular.
Fifteen to twenty researchers live in simple wooden huts roofed in tin. A kitchen, dining room, washrooms, and a shared dorm strung with hammocks make up the quarters. Hammocks are not only more hygienic than mattresses, they also protect against snakes and spiders that might wander in at night. There’s even a small garage on site, which doubles as a gym in the evenings. Badminton and beach volleyball are also popular ways to unwind. But the real sporting highlight of the week comes on Sundays. About 15 kilometres away, on the riverbank, lies a small settlement with a church, a school, and – true to Brazilian tradition – a soccer field just outside the village. There, researchers and villagers meet for friendly matches. It’s great fun, and it also strengthens ties with the locals. At first, the ATTO scientists were regarded with suspicion; now we’re practically part of the community. Now,.people look out for one another and lend a hand when needed. Local teachers have visited the station to see what we do, and in return researchers have organised workshops for schoolchildren.
For anyone who loves animals, ATTO is a dream. Birds, spiders, and insects appear in every imaginable form and colour – and most of them seem three times bigger than the ones back home! Howler monkeys roar from the treetops, and agoutis – slender, long-legged cousins of the guinea pig – dart between the buildings. In the rainy season, a small caiman sometimes takes up residence on the grounds, lazing in a puddle by day and occasionally sneaking into the showers at night.
My most memorable experience, though, was an encounter with a jaguar. I was walking near the tower with a colleague and a dog. The dog apparently fit the jaguar’s idea of prey, and drew it in. Suddenly we were face to face with the great feline, only a few metres away. We stood frozen for what felt like an eternity, until it finally melted back into the undergrowth. Since that day, researchers no longer bring their dogs to the station.
