Working with jaguars in Brazil's Pantanal wetlands brought immense joy to researcher Abbie Martin, but that joy now battles against the escalating threat of climate-fuelled wildfires. Martin, who splits her time between captaining a boat in the Virgin Islands and running the Jaguar Identification Project in the Pantanal, has witnessed the region's terrifying transformation firsthand.
A Paradise Under Fire
The Pantanal, the world's largest tropical wetland, normally cycles between lush, flooded seasons and dry, brown periods. During the dry 'jaguar season,' Abbie would observe these magnificent predators in their element. She recalls mothers, usually "cold-blooded killers," transforming into devoted parents for their cubs. This delicate balance was shattered in June 2020.
Stuck abroad during Covid lockdowns, Martin received desperate messages from her friend Duda. A mega-fire was ravaging the Pantanal. The blaze would ultimately burn 27% of the vegetation cover and kill at least 17 million vertebrate animals. A Nasa map showed a fire front 25 miles long. The stress was so overwhelming it sent Martin to hospital with a panic attack.
She and a friend sprang into action, raising $90,000 (£69,000) via GoFundMe to equip a team of 15-20 volunteers with essential firefighting gear. The fire, described as devil-like for its ability to 'walk across water,' burned relentlessly for four months.
Scorched Earth and a Glimmer of Hope
When borders reopened in October, Martin returned to a scene of utter devastation. The air in Cuiabá was hot and thick with smoke. Driving through ash windstorms, she found a landscape that looked like a bomb had hit it. She discovered grim 'cemeteries' where animals—howler monkeys, capuchins, coatis, and birds—had huddled together and perished.
Amid the despair came a profound relief. One by one, the jaguars she knew—Patricia, Medrosa—were spotted alive. They had survived. The resilience of nature revealed itself as the first rains fell, and green shoots emerged from the charred earth within days.
This hope was tested the very next year when fires returned. Martin found herself on the front lines, riding a water tank towed by a tractor with Duda and a volunteer. Their makeshift firefighting team even included a 12-year-old boy, a stark illustration of the desperate, under-resourced response.
The Fight for a Last Refuge
During a perilous mission, their truck got stuck in the mud near an advancing fire. "There's fire all around us. This is it," Martin thought. They eventually escaped by driving through the flames. The fires that year lasted a month and a half, leaving permanent scars on the land and the volunteers.
Martin identifies a combination of factors driving this crisis: natural cycles, political inaction, the livestock industry clearing land, and overarching climate change. Scientific analysis confirms climate breakdown made the Pantanal significantly drier between 2001 and 2021, increasing the frequency of extreme fires.
Yet, a powerful symbol of survival endures: a jaguar named Ousado. Rescued in 2020 with third-degree burns on his paws, he was treated with stem cells and released back into the wild within 38 days. Five years on, Ousado remains, a testament to nature's will to live.
Martin concludes that the river is the key ecological refuge. As long as it flows, the jaguars, who instinctively lie on the banks near the water to survive fires, have a fighting chance. "The river is the last ecological refuge we need to protect," she states. "It's what's keeping all the other animals safe." It is the critical lifeline in a world increasingly on fire.
