Estuaries are constantly changing- with the seasons, river flows, and tides. Within the course of a day, the lowest tide reveals expansive low-lying mudflats dotted with marine algae. At the highest tide, the mudflats disappear, and vegetation in the upper estuary starts to flood. Witnessing such fast-paced, dramatic shifts has been fascinating, and has made field work both exciting and challenging. We need to carefully plan our field days so we can access parts of the estuary that are only navigable at specific tides. Just as we work in response to the tides, fishes must also navigate tidally inundated habitats. On the evening I lost my croc, we were working on a project investigating juvenile salmon movement in response to changing tides. 

I return early the next morning at low tide to search for my croc eaten by the estuary. A thin mist hangs over the estuary, and low water is glassy and clear. Finding the same spot proves to be easy, as the mud is so deep and thick that my footprints from last night are still there. While this may seem surprising coming from an estuarine ecologist, I hate touching soft, gooey sediment. So I start my search using a stick to dig through the knee-deep sludge. But after thirty minutes, no luck. A message from my field crew lets me know I need to be back in the truck in ten minutes to start sampling. In a truly last-ditch effort, I plunge my hands into the elbow-deep mud and start digging. Suddenly, I feel something hard, and pull my very muddy but no worse for wear croc out of the mud. I found it!