Feature: On expedition
In the undiscovered worlds of the Earth
Whether in the Swiss countryside, in the deepest jungles of Peru or on the glaciers of Greenland: Swiss-based researchers are exploring inaccessible regions all over the world. We take a look at five current projects.
Whales and dolphins in view
Kyma organises ten expeditions a year off the coast of Syracuse in Sicily, all with volunteers. You run one of them. What do you aim to achieve?
Our research team zigzags across the sea according to specific predetermined observation points along our route. Two or three of our seven volunteers on board use binoculars to keep on the lookout for whales, dolphins, sea turtles, tuna, swordfish and sharks. We also use a hydrophone to listen for acoustic signals. We document when and where the animals are travelling so that we can determine their most important habitats.
Why do you need volunteers for this?
Very little is known about the presence of marine mammals in this area. We’ve collected data over a total of 80 weeks in the past nine years. We catch sight of some of the animals only once or twice a year, with rare species being spotted even less often. It would be difficult to finance a project like this at a university.
This citizen science project costs CHF 1,600 each for those who want to volunteer. Who’s willing to pay that kind of money to work during their holidays?
High-school students, old-age pensioners, IT specialists, business managers, nursing staff and teachers. Our participants pay for their board, lodging and the marine biology instruction that they undergo. It’s fascinating every time to observe how the team grows together over just a few days. Roughly half of them come back again.
Does any particular sighting really stick in your memory?
A few years ago, we spotted a Cuvier’s beaked whale for the first-ever time. It can go without air for more than three hours, so it stays underwater for long periods of time and is rarely seen. Meanwhile, our observers have spotted them on a regular basis and have documented 15 specimens. We hope that our observations will help to get this area designated a protected zone soon. We can provide the necessary data and arguments to support it.
The 5G backpacker
You covered over 1,000 km on foot for your doctoral thesis. Why?
Since 2021, over 20,000 5G antennas have come into operation in Switzerland. On behalf of the Federal Office for the Environment (FOEN), we went out to measure the radiation exposure generated by these antennas at a total of 300 different locations. We went to the mountains, to public places, to private homes and on public transport.
Why do it on foot?
These readings can vary greatly depending on your position – even in a small space. This is why it makes sense to take lots of readings in different positions, then calculate the averages. To this end, I carried three mobile exposure meters with me in a rucksack. My own smartphone had to be offline at all times, because its signal would otherwise have interfered with my measurements. So in a sense, my trips functioned as a kind of digital detox!
What results did you get?
Although the number of antennae is constantly increasing, the radiation exposure from them is only rising slightly. This is due to the technological advances made since the advent of 3G. The 5G antennae emit radiation specifically to areas where there is a heavy exchange of data. We found the highest exposure in trains and at train stations – in other words, places where there were a lot of people. But this radiation comes from their devices, not from antennae – and it never exceeded the legal limits anywhere.
How were your interactions with the people you met along the way?
They were mostly very pleasant. It was only rarely that I sensed any mistrust – such as when certain people suspected that I was working for a mobile phone company and was looking for sites for new 5G antennas.
Some people are campaigning actively against increasing the number of 5G antennas. How did they react to your expedition?
Articles have appeared in certain media, accusing us of carrying out our measurements at the wrong times, in the wrong places and with the wrong equipment. One of those articles referred to me as a ‘5G backpacker’. I liked that so much, I decided to use it from then on as my official title. But there were also sceptical people who were glad that we were carrying out our measurements.
On first-name terms with the local polar bears
What was it like to arrive in Greenland for the first time?
I can still remember my first night in the tent because I woke up to the sound of thunder. I initially thought it was a storm. But it was actually the glacier next to us. When large amounts of ice fall into the water, it sounds like thunder. And when the tension in the ice is discharged, it sounds like small explosions. The glacier was moving constantly. Often, whenever I had the time, I’d just sit there, looking at the so-called ‘calving front’ that was four kilometres wide. And I’d marvel at it. But in doing so, I also learned a great deal about its dynamics.
How did you cope with the cold?
South-West Greenland isn’t very arctic-like in the summer. Sure, temperatures dropped at night to zero degrees Celsius, but during the day we were sometimes able to work in T-shirts. The mosquitoes were a bigger challenge, though they weren’t the only problem.
So tell us more!
When I was travelling by boat to our base back in 2023, I saw a mother polar bear with her cub across the fjord. They were about three kilometres from our camp where some of my colleagues were already busy. I immediately radioed through to them to warn them. We had rifles flown in, and kept watch for bears at night, taking turns every two hours.
What were the research challenges you faced there?
I wanted to lay a ten-kilometre-long fibre-optic cable on the seabed, along the front of the glacier. That was an immense logistical undertaking, and I had been working towards it for three full years. Finally, in the summer of 2023, we were able to roll out the cable from the ship onto the seabed. All the while, I was in contact with colleagues on land, but they said they weren’t getting any signal and that the cable was probably damaged. I suddenly imagined my entire project collapsing around me.
Were you able to fix it?
I decided to keep laying the cable anyway, just as we’d planned. Thank goodness! Because it later turned out that two of its four fibres were still functional. They allowed me to measure disturbances caused by waves, temperature fluctuations, falling ice and cracks forming in it. Such data help us to achieve a better understanding of the loss of ice sheets.
From the Gotthard to the Moon
How do you prepare for an analogue Moon mission?
Our crew was made up of nine people from all over the world. We underwent nine months of training together. First we met online for training sessions. Then we completed a survival course in the French Alps. We also learned, for example, what it feels like to be buried under an avalanche. Night-time hikes were part of the programme too. Then we moved to Lausanne to undergo training in carrying out scientific experiments. The grand finale was a parabolic flight in Italy so that we could experience weightlessness for a brief time. It was an incredibly amazing feeling!
And how was your mission in the Gotthard Fortress?
The tunnels of the Sasso San Gottardo are several kilometres in length, and I spent a total of eleven days without daylight there. We simulated a three-day round trip to the Moon. In between, we lived for eight days on the fictional moon base inside the mountain. Our days began with a briefing, then an hour was set aside for sport, and afterwards we worked on our experiments. I was studying the growth of microalgae, which harbour potential both for recycling air to breathe and as a source of protein for astronauts. At night, we also carried out tasks outside the station in our space suits. It was dark, and the mountains were shrouded in mist – it was an out-of-this-world experience!
How were your days in the tunnel?
You’re tired, it’s dark, and you’re eating freeze-dried food mixed with water that doesn’t always taste good. I realised that my tolerance levels toward the others were dwindling, and sometimes I reacted in a more irritated manner than usual. But we’d also learned in advance how to deal with psychological stress. Our crew had a really good team spirit, which is why I still experienced our mission as something positive and fulfilling.
What life lessons can you learn as an analogue astronaut?
Asclepios may be a first step towards a real flight into space. You get to know yourself better. And you learn how to function in a team under extreme conditions. That can also be very useful on Earth!
Academic research and indigenous knowledge coming together
Since 2018, you’ve made regular field trips to the Peruvian Amazon. What does your work there consist of?
My work often begins long before I head off on a trip. You don’t just waltz into an indigenous village. You have to coordinate things in advance with the relevant organisations and the village elders. We also have to clarify beforehand where we can stay overnight, and organise our provisions. I always meet my team in Puerto Maldonado, the biggest town in the Madre de Dios – a region that’s home to 37 indigenous groups. We then usually continue our journey by water, using motorised canoes. After we’ve reached the landing stages, we have to head deeper into the forest on foot. That’s tiring in the rainy season because the paths are muddy.
The locals are often the official co-authors of your publications …
Even today there are researchers who ‘invade’ indigenous territory to extract local knowledge and biodiversity, then publish their findings or even commercialise them. But we aim to move away from this colonial approach to research by co-designing our projects with representatives of the indigenous groups. We make an agreement on where and how we may conduct our research, what we’ll do with the results, and how the locals can benefit from our collaboration.
Can you give us an example?
Our indigenous partners had the idea of training young people on the spot to become researchers themselves. We’re currently training our second group of four young indigenous researchers as part of our project. We encourage them to combine their own traditional knowledge with the scientific methods that we teach them.
Do misunderstandings still occur?
Yes. Last October, we attended a community meeting. One of our indigenous researchers fell ill and was unable to attend, so we were without a translator. Initially, the community thought we were trying to suggest how their land should be managed. But what we actually wanted was to find out what ‘well-being’ means to indigenous communities, and how it is influenced by policies pertaining to the land. Their scepticism was justified, because outsiders had been telling them for centuries how to live.
In moments like that, do you sometimes feel like a stranger – maybe even an intruder?
Always! You do remain a stranger. But such encounters can be a positive experience for both sides. You need mutual respect, shared expectations and a recognition of your differences.
