Canada Expedition 2025: Behind the scenes of the research

In mid-July, it was time for me, for the second time, to pack my bag – off to Canada, into the wilderness of our nature reserves.

After last summer’s extremely rainy expedition, this time my winter jacket and thick woollen socks were right at the top of my packing list. With memories of soaking-wet days on my last expedition to Canada, I was convinced I knew exactly what I was doing. A little spoiler: it hardly rained at all! My winter jacket stayed in my rucksack, and my city-based knowledge of nature was gently corrected with a wink.

We usually travel to our nature reserves by boat – you can see the excitement written all over everyone’s faces.

Group of five people wearing life jackets on a speedboat on a lake, with forested shoreline and mountains in the background. — We usually travel to our nature reserves by boat – you can see the excitement written all over everyone’s faces.

This year’s expedition was entirely devoted to research

Months in advance, we had drawn up a detailed monitoring plan for our expedition, setting out how we would collect data in the protected areas.

We begin with a ‘rapid assessment’ of all new sites. This involves determining whether the area is ‘worthy of protection’. Key factors in this assessment include biodiversity, CO₂ storage capacity, geographical location and acute threats.

After purchasing the land, we compile a “baseline inventory” – an initial list of the animal and plant species we find there.

This list serves as the starting point for the subsequent long-term monitoring, through which we document changes in biodiversity and ecosystems over the years.

To top it all off, we carry out so-called ‘special research projects’ that delve into more specific scientific research questions. We record all this data to make the value of wilderness more tangible, to measure the concrete impact of our actions, and to communicate this impact in a data-driven way.

As well as protecting old-growth forests, we also protect peat bogs, as they are equally important and endangered ecosystems. From above, they look rather barren – because the real treasures are often hidden metres below the surface.

Alpine wetland with dead spruce trees, moss mounds, and small pools surrounded by forested mountains. — As well as protecting old-growth forests, we also protect peat bogs, as they are equally important and endangered ecosystems. From above, they look rather barren – because the real treasures are often hidden metres below the surface.

Let’s get started – making the secrets of the wilderness tangible through data

To put this plan into practice, we spent two weeks travelling to eight different sites in British Columbia. I found it particularly impressive to accompany the two peatland researchers, Prof. Dr Jürgen Kreyling and his PhD student Hanna Martens from the Greifswald Moor Centrum, as they carried out their work. Their aim was to find out more about the carbon stores in the moors within our protected areas, as these have so far remained virtually unexplored – apart from rough estimates.

Hanna and Jürgen are drilling deep into the bog with a peat drill to determine the carbon content of the bogs.

Hiker walking through post-fire forest with charred and living trees under blue sky. — Hanna and Jürgen are drilling deep into the bog with a peat drill to determine the carbon content of the bogs.

Moors form naturally when the inflow of water exceeds the outflow. As a result, they are usually found in depressions or valleys. Not so on Porcher Island! It rains so much here that bogs even form on hilltops and slopes – and from there you can look straight out over the ocean. Jürgen, who has already had the chance to explore bogs all over the world on various field trips, was thrilled by this fact and said he had never conducted research in a bog with such a breathtaking view. Jürgen and Hanna were so inspired, in fact, that they could hardly wait to publish their findings and began writing their paper whilst still on site. They are already convinced that, thanks to their discoveries, the often-underestimated bog ecosystem will be held in a whole new light!

Even for bog researcher Prof. Jürgen Kreyling, a view like this from the bog is a rare sight. It shows that the region receives so much rainfall that bogs even form on hilltops!

Hiker with backpack overlooks calm blue bay dotted with forested islands and distant mountains under clear sky. — Even for bog researcher Prof. Jürgen Kreyling, a view like this from the bog is a rare sight. It shows that the region receives so much rainfall that bogs even form on hilltops!

Chris Ketola, Head Field Research Coordinator at WI, also trudged through dense, rough terrain day in, day out and crawled through the undergrowth to set up new camera traps and bat sensors and to carry out species surveys. He was often accompanied by Michael Zhang, a biology student from Canada and a scholarship holder at the Bamfield Marine Science Centre. Tom and Kai Andersch used drones and on-site assessments to map the integrity, biodiversity and carbon storage of new sites. I myself was responsible not only for setting up the Malaise traps – tent-like traps for catching flying insects – to record even the smallest creatures in our protected areas.

Alongside the scientific work, I coordinated expedition planning, camp organisation and data management together with our Cooperation and Special Projects Manager, Chris Hoffmann, and my Canadian colleague Marco Lou – from the daily schedule right through to the logistical coordination of our equipment, to ensure that all teams could work efficiently. I also found it particularly rewarding to work on site with long-standing partners such as Dominik Günther from DIAMIR Erlebnisreisen, as well as new partners such as Angélique Vacher from Caudalie. Both were in the conservation area to see for themselves the impact of their donations and to gain a better understanding of our projects. At the same time, they actively pitched in – whether carrying heavy equipment through the dense forest or cooking with great enthusiasm in the camp kitchen.

In the end, we all agreed: this expedition was a resounding success for research. We’ve returned with a wealth of data, are now carefully analysing it, and can’t wait to share the results with you.

Group of hikers walking through a lush forest surrounded by tall trees and dense ferns.

Two men examine a measurement device attached to a tree trunk in a forest, checking data on a handheld device.

Person in black jacket standing by moss-covered tree along stream in lush forest with hanging lichen.

Blue and white tent pitched in an old-growth forest surrounded by tall mossy cedars and lush ferns.

Two people review a laptop together on a rocky beach with driftwood and ocean waves visible behind them.

Group of people gathered around a campfire on a pebble beach with rocks, dead trees, and a lake under clear blue sky.

A rucksack full of humility.

But apart from the data (and my unused winter jacket), I’m taking something else back to Germany with me – something that’s hard to put into words. Memories of a very special corner of the world, which is so beautiful that I’m lost for words in awe. It’s not the individual encounters with animals (and there were loads of them!), nor the gigantic primeval forest giants (and there were certainly plenty of those!), nor even the soothing silence of the moor – it is this sense of connection that I was able to feel in every single moment, however small, on Porcher. The ray of sunshine breaking through a moss-covered branch, casting a golden glow. The crisp air that fills your lungs with a sense of freedom. The shell glistening mysteriously in the middle of the forest. In all those fleeting moments, I felt it: the deep connection between me and every tiny piece of the ecosystem’s jigsaw.

Feeling the bark of this dead tree trunk, knowing that it has stood there for many hundreds of years and will now provide nutrients and a habitat for hundreds more animals and plants, fills me with a sense of pure gratitude.

Hiker walking through a dense forest surrounded by towering old-growth trees and moss — Feeling the bark of this dead tree trunk, knowing that it has stood there for many hundreds of years and will now provide nutrients and a habitat for hundreds more animals and plants, fills me with a sense of pure gratitude.

During those moments on the expedition, I promised myself I would do my utmost to use all the scientific data, images and videos to at least try to capture that feeling, share it with others and bring it to life for them. Because I believe that this feeling is precisely why we are here on Earth: to feel the beauty of the world and let it touch our hearts. If I could make a wish, it would be that every person might experience this sense of wonder for themselves, today, and even in the very distant future. This is what we strive for on our expeditions and on every other day of the year: to contribute to our understanding of nature. For we only love what we understand, and we only protect what we love.