By Cassie Klein | Biology | Class of 2023
Education Abroad Program: Project Dragonfly Earth Expeditions, Summer 2021

Prize Winner

Piled in a van with 18 strangers is how it started. Piled in a van with 18 best friends is how it ended. We traveled to where the desert meets the ocean. The desert and the ocean seem like opposites, but in fact are very much the same: they both seem vast and lifeless on the surface, but both are teeming with rich biodiversity. This was my first Earth Expeditions graduate course, with field travel to Baja, Mexico, through Project Dragonfly in the Biology Department at Miami– the course would provide a foundational start for my Master’s journey.

After we drove from San Diego to Tijuana, we became encapsulated by the desert. Miles passed by as did the endless array of cacti. One species caught our eyes. Out of the short, broad, and spiky “leaves” of the base of the plant sprouted a tall, thick stalk at least 12 feet high with yellow flowers on it. It towered over the other cacti, and we started to ask questions. “What is that?” “Why is it so tall?” “What purpose does it serve?”. The vans pulled over in the middle of the desert so we could investigate. Students gathered around the odd plant to discuss this unique adaptation, and work on hypotheses to find out. The discussion of agave reproductive anatomy would be just one of many inquiry-based discussions about the ecology and conservation of Baja wildlife.

Hours later it felt like we’d never reach the Vermilion Sea Institute, a field station midway down the Baja peninsula and our base for the trip. We’d been driving all day through endless desert and watched the sun set behind the cacti. But finally we passed a sign for “B.L.A” Baihia de Los Angeles, a small fishing community located on the Sea of Cortez. We were close. We turned down a dirt road before parking at an unassuming building. I soon realized that, just like the desert, there is more to this field station than first meets the eye. Exhausted from traveling all day and learning many new things along the way, we received an express tour of the essentials: how to flush a toilet with a bucket of water and how to set up cots for sleeping outside, next to the sea, across from the desert, under the stars.

Life at the Vermillion Sea Institute was simple. Take what you need, and no more. Respect the environment and the people around you. And, always find the answers to your questions through community inquiry. We had lessons throughout the day; some inside and some outside. We had assignments and we had the ocean. The breakfast bell was always welcome, followed by dishes and a “cot brigade” putting away beds once everyone was awake. We went to a desert Ranch and back and upon returning to the ocean from the arid desert, we all played in the ocean together for hours. Then it was time for me to face my fear and go out on the boats.

I’m not afraid of boats or the open water, but I do sometimes get sea sick and it can ruin my day. This trip, I was extra prepared with sea bans and bonine. Either it worked or there was something magical about Baja (or a bit of both) but I felt just fine on each of the days we went out on boats. And it was a good thing too because it was an amazing day. We started the trip floating by blue-footed boobies hanging out on the rocks, and I was so excited to see them in person (in avian?). Then as we were moving through open water the largest male sea lion I’ve seen was munching on a fish bigger than his gargantuan head. He was concentrating so hard on eating the fish that he didn’t even notice the three boats that had gathered, at a distance, around him. Finishing his meal, he turned, looked at us, panicked, and dove down into the water. We found an island containing a forest of miniature mangroves, a raft of sea lions who snorkeled near us, a giant pod of dolphins that surfed next to the boats, and finally whale sharks: the biggest fish in the sea. That was just one day; several hours really. Nevertheless, it was easy to see how all of these powerful field experiences inBaja — along with the human connections I made there– would support further inquiry and exploration throughout my life.