FIELD FUN & FOLLIES
My first bullet ant nest excavation was an impromptu affair at Explorama Lodge. This spontaneous effort, inherently related to my passion for ant farming, was prompted by Workshop student curiosity and dares.

Biting the Bullet: Rising to the challenge, I armed myself with a machete (mostly for show), a locally-made shovel, hand pruners, long forceps and a make-shift collecting container. I partially filled a plastic gallon jar with crumpled paper towels for ant perching, and smeared the jar's inner perimeter with household oil to create a slippery barrier. I had previously used similar methods for confining smaller ant species.

From an earlier encounter, I was painfully aware that bullet ants would not be dissuaded by standard field clothing. Hence, I wore knee-high rubber boots to protect my lower legs and asked several initially enthusiastic volunteers to spot for me and brush away combative ants.

The chosen nest was adjacent to a giant tree's buttress root. After pruning away impeding brush, I captured returning foragers and then colony defenders responding to my disturbances. I painstakingly grasped ants one by one with forceps and dropped them into the container. When ants outside the nest diminished, I removed bits of ground and caught ants as they were exposed or charged to counterattack.
Our ardor soon gave way to frustration, dismay, and ultimately despair as serious problems escalated. The shovel handle was flimsy and readily bent in the heavy clay soil, rendering this essential tool nearly useless. Due to high humidity and sweat from exertion, my eyeglasses were continuously fogged, even with repeated wiping, dangerously limiting my vision. Further, small hand tools temporarily placed on the ground nearby had a remarkable way of being camouflaged by forest litter, and then were difficult to quickly locate when needed.
Of utmost concern, the jar was too small and toweling too flimsy to comfortably hold and support many large heavy-bodied ants. The captives became increasingly alarmed when piled atop one another and scrambled about like angry hornets, stridulating madly in protest. Soon they were scaling the oil barrier and escaping almost as quickly as captured. Collecting additional ants then required rapid lid work alternated with vigorous shaking to dislodge potentialescapees, which in turn exacerbated their aggressive defensive behavior. I felt like Lucy Ricardo trying to keep up with the conveyor belt in the bon-bon factory!

To make matters worse, several collecting team members were envenomed. I was stung on the lower thigh, apparently only a grazing strike since it was painful but not excessively bothersome. One assistant, in severe agony from a sting to the hand, immediately retired to the Lodge bar to commiserate over beer. This probably was not an advisable first-aid procedure given the venom's potent toxicity, though he ultimately seemed to derive some comfort from this treatment. Another helper was nailed on his rather rotund belly, perhaps fortunately given this area's relatively few nerve endings, and was able to tolerate the pain and continue work.

In spite of these problems, we captured a wingless (thus potentially mated) queen, roughly 200 workers and a few grub-like larvae. This group apparently represented only a small fraction of the entire colony. Ants were fed sugar-water and freshly killed crickets, and kept in the collecting jar for five days before reaching the Insectarium. They suffered about 25% mortality during transit, probably caused by rough handling and overcrowding.

Ready, Set, Dig!: Obviously, specialized equipment and procedures were needed prior to additional field work. For collecting containers, I bought two large plastic food storage boxes with snap-top lids. To maximize ant perching, I used coarse screen to build a spacious five-tier shelf in both boxes, attached to prevent slippage.

For access, I drilled a single small hole in each box lid. This supported a plastic funnel for introducing ants, brood and food offerings. Otherwise, the opening was plugged with a rubber stopper. Cross ventilation was provided by side holes permanently covered with fine mesh screen.

I made several practical purchases. A stout-handled narrow planting spade proved effective for working heavy clay soil and slicing through smaller plant roots. Soft contact lenses eliminated my visibility problems. Red duct tape banded onto all field tools facilitated rapid detection. Finally, to provide some safeguard against possible severe allergic sting reactions in medically remote areas, my doctor prescribed Epi-pens (self-injectable epinephrine) and an asthmatic inhaler. I also bought Benedryl antihistamine tablets.

Thus armed and less dangerous, in June 1992 I successfully excavated an entire Paraponera nest and collected resident ants. The nest was chosen because its arboreal foragers were plaguing construction persons working high overhead on the ACEER canopy walkway system. The dig took roughly eight hours to complete. Field assistants again spotted, but also helped move soil, catch ants and thwart occasional escapees by plunging them back down funnel tubes with forceps. Fortunately, no one was stung, probably reflecting both improved field procedures and a little luck. However, we were made miserable by incessant heavy rain, indicating a need to shield future work sites.

The colony population was four wingless (possibly mated) queens, 788 workers, roughly 100 winged (unmated) queens and males, and numerous brood. Using two field containers, we collected all except that many of the winged forms were allowed to disperse. The colony was held in the containers for a week, fed as before and remained quiet. During transit, adult mortality was minimal though the brood were noticeably cannibalized.

Playing With Fire: In March 1993, two assistants and I attempted an excavation near Explorama Lodge. The nest was ensconced between a stilt palm's prop roots and an adjacent tree's buttress roots, and seemed heavily populated. During several hours, we captured about 600 workers and a few larvae. At this density, and in spite of valiant efforts by field assistants to stem the tide, alarmed ants began pouring out of the funnel tube almost as fast as captured. Their angry stridulations ominously signaled the need for technique modification.

Hindered by thick tangled plant roots and a fast approaching departure deadline, I decided to free the captives en masse. Imagine the incredible spectacle! Hundreds of agitated giant ants first randomly swarmed then rapidly circled the area. Within minutes the dislocated creatures organized and began streaming like monstrous army ants along dozens of trails back into their root-bound nest! During this commotion, a native hunter passed along the adjacent foot path and, white-eyed and high-stepping, spewed Spanish words best left untranslated.

Faster Than a Speeding Bullet: My fourth and most productive dig was made April 1995 at the ACEER. I worked alone, certainly an undesirable situation, but was now an experienced bullet ant wrangler and felt comfortable inviting myself literally into their home. Fortuitously, Mother Nature cooperated beautifully, gifting me with ample work time. Only a few brief halts were necessary to shield the partially exposed nest with tarps to protect it from heavy rain damage. During a four day period, I methodically excavated, precisely mapped nest architecture and censused colony population. I was an unstung hero!

During this venture, ants were dropped into a dry jar immersed in ice-water. Captives were quickly immobilized by the cold temperature, then torpid groups were periodically funneled into the field box. Thus, previously caged ants were infrequently disturbed and had limited escape opportunities.

The nest held one wingless queen, 561 workers, 80 cocooned pupae, 126 various-sized larvae, and about 150 eggs. The entire population was held in a single field container for a week. During transit, adult mortality was minimal, but nearly half the brood were cannibalized. Even so, I was positive (and ecstatic!) that I had finally captured a vigorous, queen-right colony.

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