Remote Field Research Guide
A Beginner’s Journey at OrcaLab
1. Introduction: A Humble Beginning
I’m not a wilderness expert or a survivalist. I’m just someone who loves nature, and I had the incredible opportunity to spend two months as a first-year assistant at OrcaLab, a remote field station in British Columbia. Growing up, I spent countless hours outside—barefoot, foraging mulberries and dandelions, and learning about plants from my grandmother. Nature was my safe space then, and it still is now.
This guide isn’t about being perfect—it’s about embracing the learning curve and finding joy in the experience, even when things don’t go as planned. If you’re a beginner like me, curious about remote fieldwork, and ready to dive in, this is the place for you.
2. Why OrcaLab? What Makes It Special
OrcaLab is a unique and magical place. Nestled on Hanson Island in British Columbia, it’s a remote field station dedicated to non-invasive research on orcas and the surrounding marine ecosystem. What drew me to OrcaLab wasn’t just the opportunity to work with wildlife, but the simplicity of life there—a life immersed in nature, away from the noise of the modern world.
At OrcaLab, I learned how to listen to hydrophones, record wildlife behavior, and adapt to living with fewer comforts. The station’s mission to observe rather than interfere resonated deeply with me. It reminded me that sometimes, the best way to connect with nature is simply to be present and watch.
3. The Beginner’s Perspective: Learning as You Go
Starting from Scratch
When I first arrived at OrcaLab, I didn’t have formal wilderness training or advanced research experience and I didn't really need to. Remote field stations generally have a way of doing things and when you're just starting out, there are generally experts there to teach you. I was eager to learn from them. My first few days were jam packed with an influx of knowledge and I was thrown into it. I quickly adjusted to the remote setting, learned new tasks, and navigated the challenges of fieldwork. But with time, I realized that being a beginner wasn’t a disadvantage—it was an opportunity to grow and be open.
The OrcaLab Approach
Living and working at OrcaLab taught me to embrace simplicity and focus on what really matters. Whether it was monitoring hydrophones for orca calls, documenting behaviors, camping or walking in the forest, every task felt meaningful. The environment encouraged curiosity, patience, and problem-solving—all essential skills for remote fieldwork.
4. Practical Tips for Beginners
Gear and Packing
Pack light but smart. Bring sturdy/comfortable and waterproof boots, a headlamp (batteries), a camera, weatherproof clothing, a comfortable sleeping pad, and a warm sleeping bag.
Don’t stress about having the perfect gear—use what you have and adapt as needed. For example, I brought too many clothes and not the right clothes, but I made it work.
Invest in high-quality rain gear. In British Columbia, staying dry is key to staying comfortable and warm. Rain pants are a must.
Mindset Matters
Embrace discomfort. Remote fieldwork isn’t about luxury—it’s about connecting with nature and being a part of a team, even when it means being wet, cold, or tired. The work stops for no one as it is the purpose of your being there. A positive mindset is crucial, free of complaints and competition.
Focus on the small joys: a warm meal after a long day, a beautiful sunset, or the sound of orcas calling through the hydrophones.
Be flexible and open to learning. Not everything will go as planned, and that’s okay. Be patient and ask questions when you aren't sure about something.
5. Stories from OrcaLab
One of my favorite moments at OrcaLab was the first time I heard orcas vocalizing live through the hydrophones. I was actually in the camp kitchen and suddenly heard a faint beautiful call echoing. It was my first night and I was putting my food away into the bear boxes. I had no idea where the call was coming from but was amazed at the way that the camp was set up to be able to listen to nature at all times. I set up my tent directly next to one of the camp speakers so that I would never be “blind” to the noises happening under the waves.
Another time, I struggled to fix the ties for the tarp above my tent in heavy rain and wind. I was having fun climbing the tree feeling like a wilderness warrior but then I felt inadequate for life on the island as I realized I cut the wrong line. I felt silly but I realized it would still keep me dry, so I curled into my warm sleeping bag. It’s moments like these—the hard, messy, unfiltered ones—that make remote fieldwork unforgettable and beautifully imperfect.
6. What I Learned (and What I’m Still Learning)
Skills I Gained
Patience: Nature doesn’t follow a schedule, and neither should you. Waiting for orcas to appear or calls to come through the hydrophones taught me to slow down and appreciate the quiet moments. You also have to be ready to drop what you’re doing at all times. When around camp, keep what you need in a backpack or nearby in case you get called for any “all hands on deck” activity. I can’t count the amount of times that I was making breakfast, about to take a cat nap, or chopping wood and would hear someone from the deck yell “ORCA”. I would drop everything to run across camp to help take photos, communicate to the lab, or help with data collection. Deck is colder than the camp, so I would always have an extra coat, my beanie, and a snack on me.
Adaptability: Living in a remote location means improvising and problem-solving. From fixing gear to adjusting to unexpected weather, I learned to think on my feet. One day, I was sewing a rip in my fleece when I dropped the needle (from a sewing kit I was borrowing) down the wood panels of the deck. I could actually see it down there so I climbed over the railing and down the post to retrieve it. On my way up, I ripped a hole in my down jacket on a nail in the railing and feathers were flying everywhere. Ironic. I had to patch it so I used a patch from my sleeping pad (which came with extra patches) and I used electric tape to tape it onto the jacket. Not perfect but it kept me from losing any more insulation. Now I know to bring my own emergency sewing kit and adhesive patches.
Gratitude: Simple things, like a warm meal or a dry place to sleep, became luxuries that I deeply appreciated.
What I’m Still Learning
I still have so much to learn about wilderness skills, I don’t yet know how to drive a boat or make a fire without a match or lighter. But that’s part of what makes remote fieldwork exciting—there’s always room to grow. Think about what skills could help you with what you would be studying in a remote setting.
7. Encouragement for Other Beginners
You don’t need to be a wilderness expert to start remote fieldwork. If you have curiosity, a love for nature, and a willingness to learn, you’re already on the right track. Start small: volunteer locally, go on camping trips, or apply for beginner-friendly research positions like I did at OrcaLab.
Remember, it’s okay to make mistakes—that’s how you grow. The most important thing is to show up, stay open, and let nature teach you.
8. OrcaLab-Specific Insights
OrcaLab’s non-invasive research model taught me the value of observing without interfering. Being part of a team that prioritized the well-being of wildlife over human curiosity was inspiring and humbling. If you’re interested in applying to OrcaLab or a similar station, my advice is to highlight your passion for nature, your eagerness to learn, and your ability to adapt to remote living.
9. Call to Action
If you’ve ever felt drawn to the idea of remote fieldwork, take the leap. Start by exploring opportunities that match your skill level, whether it’s volunteering, internships, or seasonal positions. And don’t hesitate to reach out with questions—I’d love to share more about my experience and help you get started on your own journey.
Remote fieldwork is challenging, messy, and unpredictable—but it’s also life-changing. If I could do it as a first-year assistant with no formal wilderness training, so can you!
If you have any questions please don't hesitate to email me at jiannawankel@oceanprotector.blog or follow me on instagram.
