While teaching a field lab for a class of ecology students in the woods behind the Merrimack campus, I was telling them that if you flip over logs and rocks, sometimes you can find snakes, salamanders, and other interesting animals.

As I stooped down and turned over a small log, I was promptly stung on my finger by a centipede. The pain was pretty intense, like that of a bee sting, and the next thing the students heard me say was [bleep]! I looked up to see 15 shocked, wide-eyed students staring at me. Embarrassed by my involuntary outburst of profanity, I quickly apologized to the group of stunned students, who laughed when they realized what had happened.

For one of our lab exercises, we waded into a small man-made pond behind the science building at Merrimack to catch crawfish and goldfish and do population estimates. I put on my rubber chest waders and told my students they had to enter the water carefully because the plastic lining on the bottom of the pond was very slippery. I sat down at the edge of the pond, lowered my legs into the water, and as soon as I stood up, I slipped and fell in. In addition to being embarrassed, I had to walk around in cold wet clothes for the remainder of the day.

While co-leading a college biology trip to the Galapagos Islands, I was snorkeling with several students. I was floating at the surface a few feet from the rocky shoreline and decided to take a photo of a small, bright orange anemone that was attached to an underwater rock. I took several photos and when I was through, the students swam over to me and excitedly asked if I had seen the giant manta ray.

What manta ray? I asked.

It was about 10 feet wide, one of the students told me. It swam right behind you!

Manta rays are the largest rays in the world, and one of the species I had hoped to see on our trip. Apparently, it swam within a few feet of me, and I missed it because I was preoccupied with photographing an anemone? Arrrggghhh!

On a college biology trip to Australia, after a 20-hour-plus flight, we landed at the Cairns Airport in Queensland at around 2 in the morning. Half asleep, we all had to go through customs before heading to our hotel. The two head professors were leading the group at the front of the line, so I decided Id take up the rear to make sure everyone got through OK.

The last student in line was an affable young man named Lou. The customs agent asked Lou to open his duffle bag, and then began to ask him some questions.

You did fill out the customs declaration form on the plane, didnt you?

Yes, I did, Lou replied.

And you read it carefully?

Yes, I did, said Lou.

And you do know youre not supposed to bring any meat or agricultural products into the country, right?

At this point I thought, uh-oh, somethings wrong.

The customs agent reached into Lous duffle bag and pulled out a plastic bag that contained about half a pound of pork fat.

Whats this, mate? asked the customs agent.

Its pork fat, sir, Lou replied. I brought it to use for fishing bait.

Fishing bait? I interjected.

Ya, Lou responded. I didnt know if Id be able to get any bait down here, and I wanted to go fishing.

Lou, I said, First of all, Australia is surrounded by ocean. Its a gigantic island. Im sure theyve got fishing bait. Secondly, I dont think any self-respecting fish would even eat pork fat!

The customs agent just smiled, gave Lou a warning, and confiscated his fishing bait.

On the Belize trip I mentioned earlier, a group of us were standing outside the general store in a village. Tropical developing countries always seem to have mangy stray dogs hanging around human settlements, and Belize was no exception.

A group of three or four skinny, sickly-looking dogs were milling around near the general store. Im always afraid of stray dogs because they could carry diseases, including rabies. Suddenly the dogs started to fight with each other, and the snarling, snapping pack rapidly moved toward us. Instinctively, I grabbed the person closest to me who happened to be one of our students and put her in front of me as protection. She screamed and said, What are you doing?

Thankfully, no one was bitten.

I still get teased about that one.

Don Lyman can be reached at donlymannature@gmail.com.

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Some wild misadventures of a college biology instructor - The Boston Globe