All posts by ssalterblog

Life in the Clean Van

By Maitreyi Nagarkar, CCE LTER

This past April I went on the CCE LTER El Nino Rapid Response cruise, and it was my first ever time on a research cruise. My own research focuses on samples that I collect right off the Scripps Pier in La Jolla, California, so this was a new and exciting experience for me. I would say the most striking parts of being at sea so long were:

  1. Never having any privacy, ever.
  2. Not having a consistent work or sleep schedule – most of the time I was helping with CTD casts that were at 3am!
  3. Getting used to doing everything (brushing your teeth, taking a shower, eating a meal, running on a treadmill…) while the ship is rocking back and forth like crazy. We encountered some rough weather and there was a whole day where I couldn’t go even a few steps without stumbling around! I pretty much spent that day in bed.
  4. Eating amazing food all the time. Wait…I’m being told this is not always the case. But, the chefs on the R/V Sikuliaq were both amazing! They not only made delicious meals, but also kept us supplied with lots of baked goods every day.

I was helping a research group, the Barbeau lab, that studies trace metals in the ocean, specifically iron. “Trace” means that they are only present in the ocean at very low levels, but they can be extremely important in determining what grows and what doesn’t. Here’s how:

As you might know, the whole ocean food web depends on phytoplankton, the microscopic plants of the ocean. They get eaten by zooplankton, which get eaten by larger zooplankton, which are food for fish, and so on. Basically the amount of phytoplankton in the ocean determines how much of everything else can grow. For instance, if you have a pizza party, and you only order one pizza, that limits how many people you can invite!

So what determines how many phytoplankton can grow? Most of the phytoplankton in the ocean are single-celled organisms, and building a cell requires a specific ‘recipe’ of different elements. Here’s another food example – let’s say you are baking with the following recipe for a dozen cookies:

2 cups flour

1.5 cups sugar

0.75 cups butter

2 cups chocolate chips

1 egg

1 tablespoon vanilla extract

0.5 teaspoon baking soda

And let’s say that you have lots of flour, sugar, butter, chocolate chips, eggs, and vanilla (enough for dozens and dozens of cookies!). But, you only have 1 teaspoon of baking soda. If that happens, then you can only make two dozen cookies because you are limited by the amount of baking soda you have.

This same thing can happen to phytoplankton with the elements they need to grow. In the ocean, there are often lots and lots of some of the ‘ingredients’ that cells need to grow, such as Carbon, Nitrogen, and Phosphorous – these would be like the flour, sugar, and butter of the cookie recipe example. But iron, which cells need only a little bit of, is often not present in the ocean in very high quantities – making it a trace metal. So, just like you were only able to make as many cookies as you had enough baking soda, in the ocean you can only have as many phytoplankton cells as you have enough iron to support.

During the cruise, we collected water at different locations in the California Current off southern the coast of California and measured how much iron was in the water. To do this we used a Trace Metal CTD. CTD stands for conductivity (or salinity), temperature, and depth. This is a standard instrument used in oceanographic research that is dropped vertically in the water to measure these water properties, and it is also used to collect seawater at specific depths with the attached niskin bottles.

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Here we are getting the Trace Metal CTD ready to deploy in the water. We have to put the gray niskin bottles on right before we put it in the water because we want to keep them as clean as possible with no metal contamination! I am in the yellow hardhat, grad student Angel Ruacho is in the black hardhat, and our leader, Kathy Barbeau, is in the red hardhat.

Once the CTD is in the water, we send it down to the water depths we are interested in and get water from each of those depths.

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Now the CTD is ready to go in the water. The ropes we are holding are called tag lines, and we use them to stabilize the CTD so it’s not swinging around and getting damaged… or hitting us in the head.

Then, we rush it into the clean van. The van is a large, self-contained labspace that is closed-off from the rest of the ship that we try to keep very clean so that we don’t contaminate our water samples with iron. This can be very challenging when you work on a ship that is made of metal! We even have to take our shoes off when we go in the clean van. Once inside the van, we begin filtering the water to measure the iron, and it can take a long time. It was quite an experience to be in a small, plastic-covered van at 3 in the morning, holding filter tubing while seriously debating with the rest of our research group who to listen to while we worked: Katy Perry or Nine Inch Nails. We also had many a conversation about whether the Jedi or the Sith were the ‘real’ good guys in Star Wars. Clearly, 3am lab work can inspire some fascinating conversations.

We collected water at many different depths in many different locations throughout the cruise. The filtered water was brought back on land for the iron measurements. After all the long, hard work, we end up with something like this:

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This is the data we end up with – it’s called an iron profile.

This is called an iron profile and shows the amount of iron at each water depth in a particular location. Iron usually gets in the ocean by being blown in as dust, so often there is more iron at the very surface and less deeper in the ocean. This is because the iron is getting taken up by phytoplankton! But, even deeper in the ocean, the iron concentration increases again. Why? Because when plankton die, they sink in the water and get eaten or decomposed by bacteria. As this happens, all of the iron they had within them gets released back into the water, increasing the amount of iron in deep ocean waters.

Because we sampled so many different locations on this cruise, we were able to create iron profiles for many different locations in the California Current. It took many long, sleepless hours in the clean van, but now we have lots of information about how much iron there is in different parts of the Southern California Current Ecosystem, and we can start to compare it to the iron data from previous cruises to see if there have been any changes in the amount of iron available to phytoplankton over time or due to the El Nino event specifically.


mnagarkar.pngAuthor: Maitreyi Nagarkar (mnagarkar@ucsd.edu)

Maitreyi is a PhD student at the Scripps Institution of Oceanography in San Diego, California. In her research, she uses environmental molecular methods to characterize marine microbial communities and investigate cyanobacterial-grazer interactions.

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A little water goes a long way

By Nate Emery, SBC LTER

How do you catch a cloud and pull it down? It’s not easy, but that’s what I have been doing for several years: investigating how fog affects shrub species along the southern California coast. Figuring out how plants use fog water is a two-fold process that involves stable isotopes and plenty of fieldwork – yeah for working outside!

The first step is catching fog. I do this with a fog collector that looks like a dual-axis harp made from PVC, fishing line and rebar. Fog and dew condense on the fishing line and drip down into the PVC gutters which funnel the water into a Nalgene container. This container has pre-weighed mineral oil in it to trap the water and prevent evaporation. It is a passive collector and as long as it stays clean, it catches fog fairly well. This water is then run through a machine called a mass spectrometer, which analyzes the isotopic ratio of oxygen and hydrogen, so I can compare fog with the composition of rain and groundwater.

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The Fog Collector. It looks like a harp with two perpendicular sets of strings. As fog water condenses on the vertical strings, it drips down into PVC funnels and is collected in a container with mineral oil in it to prevent the water from evaporating.

The second part of the analysis involves measuring the plants. Fog water can be taken up by plants through shallow roots and even leaves! To measure the stable isotopic signature of fog water, I collect stem samples and immediately freeze them for later isotopic analysis. The isotopic signature of the water that is extracted from the stem samples enables me to determine the origin of the water source for that plant – fog, rain, or groundwater. Since southern California is a semi-arid environment, water evaporates from the soil surface and I have to take this into account because this means the water taken up by plants in the ground is likely different from the original water source (fog or rain). This involved a lot of fun times coring, or digging, for soil. This is not always the easiest task when the ground is dry, rock-hard clay.

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Coring for soil samples.

One of the most interesting things I’ve found doing this research is that lots of different plant species are using fog water during the summer drought, and for some of them, this reduces their flammability! This is important because less flammable plants could potentially mean smaller wildfires – a major concern in dry California. So the next time you’re lamenting the foggy weather and wishing for a sunny California day, think about how happy the plants are for those little bits of water and maybe do a little jig on their behalf.

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Happy plants covered in dew from the fog.

Picture5Author: Nate Emery (nemery@lifesci.ucsb.edu, @FoggyIdeas, nathanemery.com)

Nate is finishing his PhD on fog and fire ecology at the University of California, Santa Barbara. He has been measuring fog deposition and water use of several dominant shrub species for 5 years. What’s in store for the future? It’s a bit foggy…

The Rigors and Rewards of Fieldwork

As our boat cut through the chop of the Santa Barbara Channel, sending fans of spray hissing in our wake, I couldn’t help but appreciate the beautiful day and consider how fortunate I was that my job requires regular SCUBA diving. While relishing this blissful feeling and the glorious weather, I noticed that my fin strap was loose. We were in between imgboattwo quick dives at the oil platforms off of Santa Barbara, and had all of our gear on so we could immediately jump in at our next dive site. As I reached down to adjust my fin, the boat hit a particularly large swell, causing it to heave unexpectedly, sending me flying backwards in an awkward tumble off the side of the boat and into the Pacific. That sunny glow I had been feeling was immediately replaced by shock at how quickly I was thrown, embarrassment for not paying attention, and amusement at the baffled faces of my dive team as the boat wheeled around to retrieve me from the ocean.

Field research abounds with moments like these, where a switch flips and a routine day suddenly turns into chaos. These hurdles range from minor to major: weather conditions or platform operations have kept us from diving on schedule, IMG_2818equipment has fall to the depths of the ocean, a housing once failed and ruined an expensive camera, and I’m guilty of forgetting water or food out on the boat. I have to remind my envious friends that it’s not all fun and games out in the field, and that sometimes I have to overcome logistical, physical, and mental blocks that could potentially hinder successful research. However, these experiences, for lack of a better term, build character. I’ve learned to take things in stride and be a creative problem-solver. I understand my limits, but feel so accomplished when I challenge myself and succeed. Though I would consider myself to be a detail-oriented micro-manager at times, I’ve learned to be relaxed and flexible with on-the-fly decision making.

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If nothing else, the challenging days make me truly appreciate the good days that make it all worthwhile. Diving at the oil platforms is breathtaking in ideal conditions. Visibility can reach 100 feet, far more than a good day on the mainland. Huge schools of juvenile fish, large adult fish, and elusive pelagic species make appearances out at the platforms.

 

Girabaldi1 (1)The invertebrate community growing on the platform’s structure is rich and vibrant; pink, purple, and peach strawberry anemones abound, shrimp dart around mussel and scallop shells, and millions of barnacles wave their feeding combs. Playful sea lions curiously swim by and pirouette as if putting on a show.

 

BIMG_1341efore I started this thesis, another graduate student told me about the trials and tribulations of her thesis work. She told me that one needs a sense of humor when conducting a laboratory experiment. I can’t help but wonder if that means that someone doing a field work needs the sense of humor of a true comedian, because there is even more room for setbacks in the field. In spite of the challenges, I wouldn’t dream of exclusively working out of a laboratory or office; the rewards of fieldwork are a regular affirmation of my choice to pursue a career in ecology.

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viola_authorpicAuthor: Sloane Viola (sloaneviola@gmail.com)

I am a second year Master’s student at the University of California, Santa Barbara studying the effects of disturbance and community dynamics on the colonization success of a non-native marine epibenthic invertebrate on offshore structures. Prior to starting this research, I worked as an undergraduate intern and then a lab technician in a beach ecology research lab at UCSB. I did an undergraduate thesis on the effects of fine sediments from nourishment material on the burrowing ability of beach invertebrates. When I’m not being a scientist, I play beach volleyball and kickball, surf, hike, read, and I’ve been building a ukulele.

 

Look at the Filters on that Rack!

I am a biological oceanographer and I study plankton – microscopic floating plants and animals. That means to do my research, I filter seawater – liters and liters of it. Why? Well, in order to study the small plankton in the ocean, you can’t use a net; they’ll slip right through even the smallest net. So, first I collect a lot of seawater with a specialized container called a niskin bottle (basically a tube with opening and closing ends that capture water), then I need to concentrate and separate the plankton from the seawater. To do this, I use an incredibly important piece of oceanography equipment: a filter rack.  To use a filter rack, you pour the seawater sample into specialized screw-on cups, hook the entire the entire system up to a vacuum pump that sucks all the seawater through a thin plastic filter membrane, and catch all the plankton you want to study on the thin filter membranes. I typically filter seawater through filter membranes that catch very small things (less than 1 micron or 1/10000 of a centimeter!) so that I can catch even the tiniest plankton. I then use these filtered samples for lots of different analyses, from genetics to microscopy, to figure out what plankton are there, how many there are, and what they’re doing.

But, filter racks aren’t just use to study plankton. Measurements of chlorophyll (the light-absorbing pigment in plants), nutrients, and trace metals in seawater all require using filter racks. So, to underscore just how important the filter rack is to oceanographic research, here is a selection of the many filter racks I have come across in my research.

Filter racks come in all shapes, sizes, colors, and levels of sophistication, including lovely hand-crafted solid wood creations complete with the artistic stylings of bored graduate students.

White arrows indicate graduate student sharpie art.

Personally, my favorite type of filter rack is the humble pvc-pipe version that many young oceanographers create themselves after a trip to the nearest hardware store. With some pvc pipe, cementing glue, and bright red on/off valves, you can create a custom, spiffy looking filter rack all your own.

PVC filter racks: the humblest form of filter rack.

Filter racks are multi-purpose too – who needs a darkroom when you can toss a blanket or spare garbage bag over the entire filter rack to protect samples filled with light-sensitive plankton?

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Sometimes, it’s not necessary to have an entire rack of filters when just one filter will get the job done.

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It is debatable whether or not watching the seawater filter makes the process go any faster.  

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And when you’re at sea, sometimes you might need to filter with your life vest on inside the lab – just in case.

 

 

 

 

 

 

But most importantly, biological oceanographers need to remember to smile while doing all that filtering because it gets us all the samples we need for our research.

 

 


freibott_authorpicAuthor: Alexandra Freibott (afreibott@ucsd.edu)

Ali is a PhD candidate at Scripps Institution of Oceanography in San Diego, California and studies microbial ecology in the California Current. She is an avid reader and enjoys taking her dog Louie for long walks on the beach during work breaks.

 

 

 

Follow along with the El Nino Research Cruise!

The CCE LTER researchers are heading out on Tuesday for a 3 week long research cruise focused on investigating the effects of El Nino on our study site: the California Current. We are excited to get some sea time and check out what this recent atmospheric phenomenon means for the biology, chemistry, and physics of this productive region.

Keep up to date on our adventures and day-to-day oceanography research by following us on Twitter or checking out the blog website.

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Salad Cages

By Christie Yorke of the SBC LTER

My graduate student research often involves combining mesh, zip-ties, PVC piping, and massive amounts of electrical tape to create experimental set-ups. I’ve zip-tied plastic bags around kelp to measure the stuff that sloughs off and put animals in homemade cages with kelp to measure how much they can eat in a day. I’ve also designed tipping buckets that mechanically agitate kelp to test if the kelp can be utilized by animals that filter small particles out of the water for food. I often find myself designing and building things that would benefit from much larger (i.e., tens of thousands of dollars) budgets than I’m allotted. Alas, this means that I must wander the aisles of Home Depot, and sometimes Smart & Final, to find items designed for entirely different purposes that I can re-purpose for my experiments. Who said being a scientist means you aren’t creative?

(Left) Kelp secured with zip-ties and plumbing hardware in big plastic bags. (Top Right) Yeah, those are filter feeding tunicates secured to bathroom tiles with super glue… (Bottom Right) DIY tipping buckets. Take note of the yellow pool noodle used to cushion the buckets when they tip.

Recently, I volunteered to lead community college students through a small experiment in order to expose them to kelp forest research. I was excited to be a mentor because I too was once a community college student and I now do my own graduate research. I thought it would be fun to take a well-tested kelp grazing rate experiment and add a fish to the mix in order to test how the sight and smell of a fish might affect the grazing rate of invertebrates that feed on kelp.  Seeing and/or smelling the fish might frighten small invertebrate grazers, leading them to spend all of their time hiding rather than eating. I thought this was a relatively straight-forward experiment that would allow these young scientists to be wow-ed by the experience of handling live animals in a real research setting.

A week before the experiments were set to begin, I realized that I needed 40 cages that would be the size of a kelp blade (the algae equivalent of a plant leaf), as well as see-through. I needed my invertebrates to be safe from being eaten but be able to both see and smell the fish! I had no such cages. Additionally, there is often very little to no budget for volunteer or side projects such as these. This is how I found myself wandering the aisles of Smart & Final, looking for something clear that would work as a cage that I could cut holes into and then glue in mesh panels. I originally thought I might find clear plastic tubs with a snug screw on lid. I did find those tubs, but they were $5 a piece and I could not afford to spend $200 on such a small, but necessary, part of this project. What I needed was some inexpensive, clear containers that I could cut up to fit my needs. I continued to wander around the store for about an hour, gazing discontentedly at various pieces of frosted, costly tupperware. People came and went as they completed their shopping and the employees started looking uncomfortable with my continued presence in their store. Finally, I found the perfect thing – clear plastic disposable salad containers – $24 for a 100 pack!

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The “Cages”

I promptly bought them, made a cage prototype, and set our summer intern to work with a hot glue gun and a bolt of nylon mesh. The final product was something that I (and our hard working intern) am truly proud of to this day. The experiments went off without a hitch, though the data was pretty messy, which is the case with a lot of ecological data. The results seemed to indicate that only some of the invertebrates were truly scared by the presence of the fish, while others grazed normally. It’s possible I need to change the experimental design and add more fish in each tank next time. Clearly, more trials are needed in the future, and now that I have my great salad box cages, I can perform the experiments again next summer with more students!

Students working hard and testing out those salad containers.


Picture1Author: Christie Yorke (christie.yorke@lifesci.ucsb.edu)

Christie is a 4th year PhD student at the University of California, Santa Barbara studying the transport and fate of kelp within the kelp forest. She likes to go SCUBA diving and loves taste testing her study organisms.

Ants, parasitoid wasps, and bears, oh my!

By Alexandria Wenninger of the BNZ LTER

Being a field ecologist is a really fun job, where a day at the office could mean anything from tromping through a peat bog in muck boots, scuba diving off the coast, climbing trees, or hiking Antarctica. While the biggest obstacles we face at our indoor offices are usually running out of printer paper or forgetting to refill the coffee pot, the occupational hazards of our outdoor offices are often unexpected and bizarre.

I study ants and parasitoid wasps in Alaska’s boreal forest, and when I first started my work I spent a lot of time designing the perfect pitfall trap to collect them (pitfall traps are small containers placed holes in the ground so that insects walking by fall in and can’t escape). I thought I had everything figured out; what I had not anticipated was black bears ruining my traps.

Black bears, in my experience, are driven by curiosity and hunger. My traps are new and exciting to them, and as an added bonus, the traps are filled with dead insects, delicious!

ants1 The bears pull my traps out of the ground and then eat and/or spill the contents before tossing the cups aside. (Normally the white plate would be held over the pitfall trap with the plastic nails to act as a rain cover).

Surprisingly the story is not over yet; I thought I was smart and figured I could make the traps taste so terrible that the bears would either leave them alone entirely or would have one taste and never touch them again. I needed something serious to do this task, so I employed “the bitterest substance known to man”, denatonium benzoate (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Denatonium ).

ants2 Another example of what my pitfall traps look like after a bear encounter.

Results? After accidental exposure I can safely say that the denatonium benzoate is plenty disgusting, but it turns out that some bears really don’t care! It does seem like I lose less traps to bears now, but whether it is due to the bitter substance or coincidence I don’t know.

Bears: 1, Field Ecologist: 0.

ants3Mom and two cubs crossing the road near one of my field sites.

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Alexandria Wenninger is a graduate student at the University of Alaska-Fairbanks studying post-fire succession of ant and parasitoid wasp communities in the Bonanza Creek LTER site network.

 

Deep Sea Diving on Shallow Reefs

I’m a coral reef ecologist. This means I go SCUBA diving every day to conduct my research in lovely tropical places where corals grow. It is pretty amazing work. During the months that I have to study the coral reefs in Moorea, French Polynesia (an island a few miles from Tahiti) I set up experiments in the ocean and sometimes in large salt water tanks on the shore. We (myself and other researchers I work with) drive small boats out to our research sites, gear up and hop in to do our work. Here, I am on my way out to a research site to set up an experiment using small cages. You can see my boat is absolutely loaded with equipment; I’m in for a long day in the water.

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I’m often asked how deep I dive when I’m conducting my research and the answer is usually a surprise to my friends and family. Shallow! Holy moly it is shallow where I do my studies! The average depth on a typical dive is between 5-7 feet. You may ask, why the heck are you SCUBA diving if you can just stand up and breathe the air? That’s a great question, and sometimes I do snorkel while I do my work, holding my breath while I need to be under the water and coming up for air. But other times I need to be down on the sea floor for hours at a time counting or measuring small corals and would easily lose track if I went up for air. Here is a photo of me snorkeling on a typical day estimating how much coral is present on this coral reef. And another where I’m SCUBA diving to set up an experiment hauling heavy cinder blocks around with my experimental corals attached (and dancing around like they’re pom poms); so grateful for the lack of gravity under the water.

One reason why I can do my research so shallow is because most corals grow very shallow. Corals rely on photosynthetic algae living within them and need clear water and lots of light to grow. On a coral reef most of the action happens in the first 30 feet of water depth. This turns out to be pretty convenient for coral reef scientists like myself because the deeper you SCUBA dive the more safety precautions you must take and the shorter the time you can be down at your maximum depth. If you dive super deep (near 100 feet) your time at the bottom can be limited to just minutes! It would take me a whole lot of dives to get to find and measure 500 corals at that rate.

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Author: Stella Swanson

Stella Swanson is a PhD student from the University of California, Santa Barbara. She studies how sea urchins and fish can influence the recovery of damaged coral reefs.

 

LTER Student Science at the 2016 Ocean Sciences Meeting

While this blog will mainly feature our research stories, we thought it would be relevant to share another important experience as a scientist: attending scientific conferences. Scientists often attend conferences where they present and discuss their research with other scientists. These conferences are amazing opportunities to meet with colleagues in person because they draw people from around the world together to discuss their research. Everyone from students, both undergraduate and graduate, to seasoned experts in their field, attend conferences.

The 2016 Ocean Sciences Meeting (OSM) is one such large scientific conference that focuses on all aspects of marine, and sometimes freshwater, science. Many graduate students from the Santa Barbara Coastal (SBC) and California Current Ecosystem (CCE) LTER sites attended this year’s OSM conference held in New Orleans two weeks ago, and it was a great opportunity to share our science and have fun with our colleagues in a great city. Here are some of the sights and sounds of our student experience at the conference!

At conferences, researchers can give talks or poster presentations of their research. When conferences have thousands of attendees, like OSM, only a fraction of the scientists have time to give talks about their research, while the rest present their research in poster format in a very large room with rows and rows of posters.

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One of the two poster rooms at the 2016 OSM.

Here are a couple CCE and SBC students by their respective posters:

And here is grad student Jennifer Brandon (CCE) giving a talk about effective outreach techniques related to her marine debris research:

In addition to the talks and poster presentations, there is ample time to mingle with other scientists (including LTER student alums) over libations and snacks during breaks and evening mixers.

The student SBC and CCE attendees even met for a get together at an historic New Orleans spot, Pat O’Briens:

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The fountain behind had fire in addition to the standard water.

Conferences are an amazing experience as a graduate student, giving us a chance to share our research, meet with colleagues from around the world and form new collaborations for the future. The CCE and SBC students represented LTER marine sites well at this year’s OSM – and had a lot of fun while doing it!


freibott_authorpicAuthor: Ali Freibott

Ali is a 5th year PhD student at Scripps Institution of Oceanography in San Diego, California and studies microbial ecology in the California Current. She is an avid reader and enjoys taking her dog Louie for long walks on the beach during work breaks.

What do you do at sea for a month without good internet?

For our research in biological oceanography, we often have to go to sea to collect our biological samples or to measure the temperature, salinity, and chemical components of the water at different depths. We often have to go to sea for days, even weeks at a time without coming into port. Going to sea is a very fun and unique part of our jobs, and allows us to answer really unique questions, like “What are the ecological effects on plankton and fish communities when a large El Niño is occurring?” or “How much plastic debris is in the water in the middle of the North Pacific Gyre?” These are questions we can’t answer from land, or from satellite images. But it does lead to one unique problem that we get asked quite often: What do you do to entertain yourself for a MONTH at sea without good INTERNET??

1. Watch a lot of movies.

a. You can’t rely on Netflix or hulu out there at sea, so you better have that series you’re ready to binge-watch stored on your computer or on DVD. I foolishly brought my own DVDs on the R/V Melville the first time, only to walk into the movie room and discover hundreds upon hundreds of DVDs. On shelves in rows three DVDs thick, in binders that were once organized, in binders where there were unlabeled DVDs, in binders where you find the occasional mix CD from a decade past. So needless to say, there are hundreds of DVDs to watch, if you have the patience to find what you’re looking for.

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There are no pictures of us watching movies, so here’s a lovely sunset view from the ship instead.

2. Read books. That’s right, books.

a. This one fully depends on your ability to read without getting seasick, and thus also on the calmness of the sea. But it is actually really nice to disconnect, unplug, and read those books gathering dust on your shelves rather than yet another buzzfeed article. Because buzzfeed is not loading at sea, friend. So stop trying. The R/V Melville and some other vessels even have libraries where you can read the books left behind by past sailors and scientists. Both the library and movie room shelves have brass bars across them to keep the books and DVDs in place on rough seas.

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Library on the R/V Melville.

3. Play cribbage.

a. I had never played cribbage, and had really barely heard of it, before my first cruise. This is an old sailor favorite, and the crew of almost any ship will be playing it after dinner. If you’re nice, they’ll teach you how to play. One of the benefits of playing at sea is that the pegs won’t move in rough weather. Not so with Mah Jong tiles, which was a sailor favorite on one of our cruises due to the ship having just been dry-docked (laid up for service) in Asia. Those tiles are slippery, and moved all over with the roll of the ship. It was quickly abandoned for cribbage.

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Cribbage time!

4. Draw on cups. And foam heads.

a. What? You’ve never done this? This age-old seafaring tradition actually can’t be any older than 1954, when Styrofoam was invented. What we do is draw on Styrofoam cups and heads with sharpies at the sea surface. Then we attach the cups to a CTD rosette, a water sampler, as it goes down on a deep dive. The air in the Styrofoam escapes under the increased pressure at depth, and the now air-free cups shrink. This shrinking is a one-way process, and the cups come back to the surface much much smaller! The deeper the dive, the smaller the cups. These shrunken cups and heads are a triple-threat as a favorite cruise pastime, our favorite cruise souvenir, and the cheapest gift to make for friends and family.

(Top left) Styrofoam  heads and odd scientists, before shrinking. (Bottom left) Shrunken styrofoam cups that went 3500 meters under the sea!(Right) More shrunken sytrofoam heads and cups. 

5. Do science.

a. What we actually spend almost all our time doing is of course not watching movies or playing cribbage, but collecting samples and deploying equipment. Going to sea is amazing because we get to interact with all those preserved animals we have seen back in the lab freezers and in jars of formaldehyde, but we see them in vibrant color, alive and moving. I get to see how that salinity and temperature data is collected, and what all those labs on my hall actually do to get their samples. The best thing to do when your shift ends on a cruise is to volunteer at least once a cruise to help with every other shift to really see what each group does and how they collect their samples. Then when you need that data back in lab, you have a holistic understanding of where it came from, and how the CCE functions together.

(Top) Scientists enjoying the sun on deck during a break. (Bottom left) Setting up scientific equipment in the ship’s lab. (Bottom middle) Deploying an enormous net, called an Oozeki net, that will be dragged behind the boat to catch fish and other exciting creatures from deep in the water. (Bottom right) Sifting through what was caught in a trawl net, including an absurd amount of urchins.  


brandon_authorpicAuthor: Jennifer Brandon

Jenni is a fourth year PhD candidate at Scripps Institution of
Oceanography in San Diego, CA. She quantifies the spatial and temporal distribution of marine microdebris and studies the ecological effects of marine debris.  She loves Duke basketball, Giants baseball, and traveling as much as possible.