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Identical twins Bruno and Otto Bell, 22, grew up in Tasmania obsessed with the natural world and were known as “The Insect Twins” at school. They’re now among Australia’s top entomologists, specialising in weevils.
Bruno (left) and Otto Bell: As children, Bruno says, “we’d collect bags of leaves and come home and tip them onto the living-room floor; there was so much interesting stuff there.”Credit: Andrew Wilson
Bruno: Otto and I were born in Hobart in 2003. As children, we were always together. We’re both autistic and struggled at primary school, but we were curious about nature. Instead of playing with other kids, we fossicked under bark and collected nuts and rocks. We created a world that was safe for us because the outside world was scary.
My earliest memory is when we were about two years old. Mum took us to St Davids Park and we lay on the grass, searching for beetles. In autumn, we’d collect bags of leaves and come home and tip them onto the living-room floor; there was so much interesting stuff there. We got double the joy from finding things together. I’d be in a tree looking at the bark and lichen, and Otto would be foraging in the dirt and roots. Other kids found us to be an oddity; they called us “The Insect Twins”. But Otto knew what I was doing: I wasn’t an oddity to him. At school, we started The Ugly Animals Club. There were a few other kids in it but, mainly, it was just us.
All our lives, people have just called us “The Twins” but, at about 14, we started separating and getting our own identities. During that time, I began studying land snails and I didn’t want Otto becoming involved in that. In the end, we went to different schools. It actually worked out well, because when I was looking at snails, Otto moved into chemistry and became interested in bones.
About 17, we came back together. I’d become invested in snails, beetles and orchids; Otto became obsessed with beetles, too. But, really, weevils are our shared interest. We went into the bush every day at Mount Nelson, looking under rocks and logs. I’d photograph everything. We’d take our finds to the head entomologist of Tasmania, but he wasn’t able to tell us half the things we wanted to know. Now we collect specimens for Harvard University and do research programs for the Australian Museum. Together, we’ve identified about 100 new species of weevils.
Otto is meticulous but also very understanding. I can get impatient if we don’t have enough vials or lose a specimen, and I can get angry with my camera. One day, we spent five hours in the Tasmanian Midlands. I was trying to photograph a rare orchid, but the exposure wasn’t working and it was windy and the shot was blurry, and it was getting late. I got frustrated and started swearing, but Otto stayed calm. He said, “It’s fine! I’m sure you got a good photo.” We went back, and I did have a good photo.
Bruno and Otto Bell searching for insects as children.Credit:
He underplays himself a lot. I think he’s one of the best weevil researchers in Tasmania, but he says that’s not true. We also console each other. Recently, we found two important weevil specimens on Kunanyi [Mount Wellington], but Otto lost them in his bedroom. He was on his bed, fuming about it. When he left his room, I went in and spent two hours searching – and I found them. I was impressed that I’d found them because they were only two millimetres long. I knew how much they meant to Otto.
Otto: Having Bruno was good as a kid. We didn’t fit in too much, but we always had each other. He encouraged me to look into the natural world. There was an oak tree at our school and we’d come home with our pockets bulging with acorns and pants falling down. We loved them so much we called our dog Acorn.
In primary school, we went on camping trips and Bruno and I would walk off and collect bones and dead things on the beach: skeletons, skins and sea urchins. Once we found a seal skull and a fairy penguin. We’d keep the specimens and make a little museum in our bedrooms.
‘When we were 11, we moved into separate rooms, but we still wanted to see each other, so Mum bashed a hole in the wall.’
Otto BellI have chronic fatigue now but, before that, we played table tennis together, sometimes for three or four hours at a time. And pogo-sticking. When I was nine, I pogo sticked for four hours straight while Bruno and two other mates counted. I did 11,500 jumps, which was the world record for my age. I only stopped because I had a jumper on that I couldn’t take off, so I got really hot and Mum told me to get off.
When we were about 11, we moved into separate rooms, but we still wanted to see each other, so Mum bashed a hole in the wall. Then, after a couple of weeks, I thought, “Actually, I don’t want to see him.” So Mum patched it up. About then, we tried to have a sense of identity and separation. We became very competitive to see who could work harder and get better grades, and it caused anger between us. I got into high-level maths – pure maths – while Bruno focused on biological science.
Bruno is more social than me, so all the friends I have are pretty much from him. When I was studying at school, I didn’t want to go out and he’d say, “Come with me,” and make me go with him looking for orchids and snails. That’s when I came across weevils. If it wasn’t for him, I don’t think I’d be interested in weevils at all. Now I go to entomology conferences and am publishing a paper with the CSIRO and the Australian National Insect Collection.
I get chronic fatigue, but Bruno’s also had it, so he helps me a lot. When you have chronic fatigue, you need activities that are minimal energy but which engage your mind. Bruno knits scarves – he’s trying to learn every different stitch – and I crochet beanies. Some nights, we’ll sit and watch TV and knit together. So far, I’ve got seven beanies and he’s got 10 scarves.
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Sometimes, I step back and wonder what it’d be like without a twin. Like, for years we’ve been looking for a certain weevil: Griffithia anomala. It usually burrows deep within wood and other places you can’t find, and only appears for a tiny period. But, recently, I found one on a trip to the Midlands with the Tasmanian Museum. Bruno wasn’t with me, so I ran to show him. He thought I was joking at first. I could’ve shared it with anyone, but it wouldn’t have been the same because no one would’ve been as interested as Bruno.
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