When you sometimes work in remote areas, you get used to toilet facilities which might not be up to your preferred standard. Most of the time, I barely remember them. I’ve experienced plenty of smelly long-drops in the New Zealand back country, but it’s the stunning views and fascinating plants which stay in my memory. However, a few toilet experiences were so remarkable that they warrant a special mention.
In Antarctica, there are strict rules to protect the environment. There’s no sneaking behind a rock for a quick pee. And so, whenever we went beyond the base for a reasonable period of time, we had to carry pee bottles and biohazard bags. Women also carried a device called a FUD, meaning feminine urinary device, which allowed us to use our pee bottles standing up. Using them was disconcerting – I had to overcome overwhelming feelings that what I was doing was completely wrong.
In Utah, at the Mars Desert Research Station, there was an issue with the pipes at the base, which meant the toilet there could only cope with liquid. I searched through the cupboards and found some large, heavy-duty zip-lock bags. Then, I cut down a 1-gallon plastic milk bottle to hold the zip-lock bags open, creating an improvised toilet. Again, there was initially a disconcerting feeling of doing something wrong. But since NASA’s Apollo astronauts had to use plastic bags, I termed it “the authentic astronaut experience”.
My favourite toilet experience, however, was in Mauritius.
Twenty kilometres north-east of Cap Malheureux (Cape Misfortune), which is the northernmost tip of Mauritius, lies a 219 hectare lump of rock called Île Ronde, or Round Island. It wasn’t always a lump of rock. It was once covered with forest and palm savanna, but goats and rabbits were introduced and they ate almost everything. With no plants to hold the soil, most of it washed away, and when I visited in 2002, large parts of the island were bare rock.
Despite the destruction caused by the goats and rabbits, there were no rats on the island, and that allowed the survival of endangered reptiles and seabirds. The island was designated a nature reserve and the goats and rabbits eradicated (in 1978 and 1986 respectively). By 2002, there was a restoration project well underway. There was a brand-new hut on the island which could accommodate up to four people, and at least one person was there year-round to manage the restoration.
There are two ways to reach Round Island, and I was lucky enough to get there the easy way. The Mauritian Wildlife Foundation has an arrangement with the Mauritian Police. Once a week or so, the police helicopter visited the island, taking people on and off. It was a big, powerful helicopter, well able to cope with the constant wind on the island. On my way over, I sat in the back row of seats, but on the way back, I was given what was regarded as the best seat – the far left in the front. It was a dubious privilege. It was the best seat because it had the best view, and one of the reasons it had the best view was because there was no door. It was noisy and windy and utterly exhilarating.
One day, the island ranger showed me the hard way to get onto the island. We scrambled down the rock to stand near the water, watching it rise and fall with the swell. There was a flattish rock platform, and that was the landing place. On the calmest of calm days, the boat would come as close as possible, and people would jump. The day I visited wasn’t calm, and I couldn’t imagine how people ever got on and off the island. However, I did find a video which includes people landing on Round Island (the landing is around the 1.40 minute mark).