It was a clear day, with only a couple of clouds meandering across the sky

as I made my way through Cupar. I was sweating slightly before I had even arrived as I had my long-sleeved hoodie and hiking trousers on. It was important to wear them as ticks can be an issue when walking in long grasses.

My stomach was churning the closer I got to my destination. The online training had given me a rough idea of what to expect, so there were no surprises, but I still felt out of my depth. I am not a scientist; this was absurd.

Yet, I continued.

Tracy haunted my steps. I had not realised it as I signed up, not even during my practical training; it was not until I was making my way to meet a group of complete strangers that I truly thought about her.

Tracy was a brilliant scientist and an amazing human being. As a single parent she managed to push herself through not only a Masters but also a PhD in this field of study – not of invertebrates but on bodies of water.

Her passion for environmental activism was a huge part of who she was. She used to regale me enthusiastically with her research, talking about diatoms for hours.

Tracy passed away in 2012, three years after handing in her paper and successfully defending her PhD. I know for a fact, if she was here, she would be pulling me along and giving me an in-depth explanation into why this work was so important. It is why, no matter how my brain screamed at me to run away, I instead turned down onto the steep little gravel hill leading to the Coo bridge.

Most of my fellow surveyors had already arrived, so I gave a polite smile and an awkward half wave. S. introduced everyone and I stood back as people kitted themselves up in waders and chest floaties. As a rule, we are not supposed to go in water that is deeper than above the knee, yet while the floaties may seem like overkill it is better to have them and not need them than need them and not have them.

As there were five of us for this survey the equipment was evenly distributed so no one person was overloaded.

We make our way past the rusty gate that was open just wide enough for us all to squeeze past, over the old stone bridge and onto the side of the wheat field. There was a narrow dirt path with the field on one side and the riverbank covered in long grass, cow parsley, balsam, wildflowers and thistles on the other.

It took us about five minutes of walking to a small clearing with a steep path down to the river, though as I was unsure of where we were going it felt much longer. We set up a table as S. went over the health and safety check before we started the survey.

M and A. were to do the sample taking. A. filled the segmented tray we would be sorting out invertebrates into with some water from the river. We placed it on a cool looking mat that had each group of invertebrates we would be searching for printed out on correlating segments.

I stood back and watched as the three minute ‘kick and sweep’ began.

M was slowly crossing the river at a slight upwards angle, so each sample was fresh and uncontaminated from the previous kick. C. had a three-minute timer set on her phone ready; A. would indicate the kick had begun, C. would then start the timer, until A. signalled the kick was finished then C. would pause the timer.

It was fascinating watching the slight muddy stain in otherwise clear water make its way through and then past the net. As quickly as it would appear it was gone again; there would be no sign of our exploits when we left the site.

Every now and then someone would pause to point out a kestrel, a fish or some other sign of wildlife. It took about twelve minutes to do the three-minute kick portion of the survey. Everyone worked harmoniously, and you could tell that they all genuinely cared about what they were doing.

The next part was quicker. The manual search involved M. and A. picking up large stones and washing them in the net, dislodging larger invertebrates like the cased caddis.

M washed the net out into the large white plastic bucket. I was astonished at how much life was teeming in that one bucket of water. Hundreds of little beasties darting about.

We tipped the bucket into the rectangular tray set up next to the segmented sample tray. S. handed out little plastic spoons and we went to work sorting out the sample.

I was clueless at first. Trying to scoop up little critters onto my spoon was tricky; every time I thought I had one it would dart off or latch onto some debris making it very difficult to get hold of them. S. passed around a tiny paintbrush so I could gently coax them onto the spoon without doing them any damage. Once that herculean task was complete, the real work began.

What was this invertebrate? It had bands around its legs, three prongs on its tail and little gills along its back. I was convinced it must be a blue-winged olive. I used the small magnifying glass provided; it did not help. I showed it to the rest of the group.

“That is an olive, not a blue-winged olive”

“Are you sure? Look at the strips on its legs.”

“Blue-winged olives raise their tail like a scorpion, this one is darting. It’s an olive.”

Consensus was reached: it was indeed an olive.

This conversation was repeated near verbatim several times. Honestly, I was really struggling to tell the difference, so would go with the group and add it to the olive segment each time.

Everyone was incredibly patient with the newbie.

Once we had sorted the sample, we emptied the final remnants of the bucket into the tray and there it was. A beautiful example of a cased caddis. It looked like a twig to begin with, thin and about half the length of my pinkie. Closer inspection with the magnifying glass showed the opening to its case, and the tiny particulate of bark that it was made from. It was alas an empty case, but it still made my day.

S took the final count for each invertebrate, gammarus shrimp winning the count by a landslide.

Because this programme is so young the Coo bridge site has yet to receive a trigger level. With the data we collected there will soon be an average for a “healthy” river sample level, so if any of our counts drop below the trigger level, we will know there has been an event. Further steps can then be taken to investigate the cause. Then, if possible, something can be done not only to stop the ongoing event but prevent it in the future.

In the centre of the segmented tray there is a small round section, which is where we placed the unknown and any invasive species we found. S. had stated at the start that they had yet to find any invasive species, so we were quite unlucky this time around. Two invasive crayfish were part of the sample, no bigger than my thumbnail.

Legally, crayfish are a bit of a grey area. You are not allowed to fish for them, yet if you do find any in the river sample you are legally not allowed to place them back in the river. They consume and consume, wiping out a lot of species native to the rivers. To be more specific the North American Signal Crayfish are the alien invasive species. According to the Environment Agency they can carry a deadly crayfish plague which kills native, white-clawed crayfish. It was deeply concerning to find them in this specific site in the Eden. (Note: there are no native white-clawed crayfish in Scotland.  However, the invasive signal crayfish still do a lot of damage, eating the spawn of salmon and trout and burrowing into the banks, causing erosion).

They were dispatched humanely and, after cleaning the equipment, making sure we had no tag-along samples joining us, we made our way back to the parked cars at Coo bridge.

Everyone said their farewells.  All my nerves were gone by the time we were done. I felt like we had accomplished something, that we were doing something that had the potential to impact the river for the better for decades to come. I hope that Tracy would be proud of me, cheering me on while teasing for being so awkward with people.

During the second sampling in July, I received an email inviting me to do my practical training. RESP were holding an open day with lectures and stalls, reaching out to the community to encourage the public to take more of an interest in this and other community projects, to spread awareness.

It was to be held in Strathmiglo, in August and it would be the final steps I needed to take to be fully qualified to help the Cupar group.

Thanks again to Mell for continuing the story.  This is the link to part 1 >>

The 3rd and final part will be published soon.

If you are interested in volunteering with RESP don’t hesitate to get in touch.  Click here >>