NOAA Teacher at Sea Blog

September 17, 2018October 4, 2018

Mark Van Arsdale: What Makes Up an Ecosystem? Part IV – Jellies, September 16, 2018

NOAA Teacher at Sea

Mark Van Arsdale

Aboard R/V Tiglax

September 11 – 26, 2018

Mission: Long Term Ecological Monitoring

Geographic Area of Cruise: North Gulf of Alaska

Date: September 16, 2018

Weather Data from the Bridge

Mostly cloudy, winds variable 10 knots, waves four to six feet during the day, up to eight feet at night

57.27 N, 150.10 W (Kodiak Line)

Science Log

What Makes Up an Ecosystem? Part IV Jellies

Ever seen a jellyfish washed up on the beach? Ever gotten stung by one? Most people don’t have very favorable views of jellyfish. I’m getting to spend a lot of time with them lately, and I am developing an appreciation. We have a graduate student on board studying the interactions between fish and jellies. Her enthusiasm for them is infectious.

Graduate student Heidi photographing a phacellophora (fried egg) jelly

Jellyfish really aren’t fish. They belong to a group called Cnidarians, along with corals, sea anemones, and hydras. It’s one of the most primitive groups of animals on the planet. Ancient and simple, Cnidarians have two tissue layers, a defined top and bottom, but no left and right symmetry and no defined digestive or circulatory systems. Jellies have simple nerves and muscles. They can move, but they are unable to swim against oceanic currents and therefore travel at the whim of those currents. Jelly tissue is made of a collagen protein matrix and a lot of water. I have heard one scientist call jellies “organized sea water.” That’s really not too far off. Seawater has a density close to one kilogram per liter, and when you measure jellies, their mass to volume ratio almost always approaches one.

Despite their simplicity, jellies are incredible predators. When we scoop them up with the Methot net, they often come in with small lantern fish paralyzed and dangling from their tentacles. Jellies possess one of the more sophisticated weapons in the animal kingdom. Located in their tentacles are stinging cells, called cnidocytes. These cells contain tiny, often toxic harpoons, called nematocysts. The nematocysts are triggered by touch and can deploy as fast as a rifle bullet, injecting enough venom to kill small fish or to give the person weighing the jellies a nasty sting.

Me holding a Chrysaora (sea nettle) jelly. — Holding up a Chrysaora (sea nettle) jelly.

Jellies have not been thoroughly studied in the Gulf of Alaska, and the work onboard the Tiglax may take us closer to answering some basic questions of abundance and distribution. How many jellies are there, where are they, and are their numbers increasing in response to increasing ocean temperatures?

In order to sample jellies each night, four times a night we deploy a Methot net. The Methot net is a square steel frame, two and a half meters on each side and weighing a few hundred pounds. It is attached to a heavy mesh net, ten meters long. Even in relatively calm seas, getting it in and out of the water takes a lot of effort. We have already deployed it in seas up to eight feet and winds blowing 20 knots, and that was pretty crazy. The net is attached by steel bridle cables to the main crane on the Tiglax. As the crane lifts it, four of us guide it overboard and into the water. We leave it in the water for 20 minutes, and it catches jellies – sometimes lots of jellies. On still nights, you can sometimes see jellies glow electric blue as they hit the net.

As we retrieve the net there are a few very tense moments where we have to simultaneously secure the swinging net frame and lift the jelly-filled cod end over the side of the boat. A few of the hauls were big enough that we had to use the crane a second time to lift the cod end into the boat.

Smaller ctenophores (comb jellies) caught in the Methot net.

Once on board, the jellies have to be identified, measured, and weighed. Assuming catches stay about the same, we will measure over one thousand jellies while on this cruise. I don’t know how all of this data compares with similar long-term ecological projects, but on this trip the trend is clear. Jellies are true oceanic organisms, the further we go offshore the larger and more numerous they get. Go much beyond the continental shelf and you have entered the “jelly zone.”

Personal Log

Seasick teacher

Last night was tough. During our transit from the Seward line to the Kodiak line, things got sloppy. The waves got bigger, and their periods got shorter. To make things more uncomfortable, we were running perpendicular to the movement of the waves. I retreated to my bunk to read, but eventually the motion of the ocean got the better of me and I made my required donations to the fishes. The boat doesn’t stop for seasick scientist (or teacher) and neither does the work; at 11:00 last night I dragged myself from bed and reported for duty.

The work on the Tiglax is nonstop. The intensity of labor involved with scientific discovery has been an eye-opener to me. We live in a world where unimaginable knowledge is at our fingertips. We can search up the answer to any question and get immediate answers. Yet we too easily forget that the knowledge we obtain through our Google searches was first obtained through the time and labor of seekers like the scientists aboard the Tiglax.

The goal of this project is to understand the dynamics of the Gulf of Alaska ecosystem, but one of the major challenges in oceanography is the vastness of its subject. This project contains 60-70 sampling stations and 1,800 nautical miles of observational transects, but that is just a few pin pricks in a great wide sea. Imagine trying to understand the plot of a silent movie while watching it through a darkened curtain that has just a few specks of light passing through.

“Pinpricks in the ocean,” Transect lines for the North Gulf of Alaska Long-term Ecological Research Program.

Did You Know?

Storm petrels periodically land on ships to seek cover from winds or storms. They are one of the smaller sea birds, at just a few ounces they survive and thrive in the wild wind and waves of the Gulf of Alaska.

Last night we had a forked-tailed storm petrel fly into the drying room as I was removing my rain gear between zooplankton tows. A softball-sized orb of grey and white feathers, it weighed almost nothing and stared at me with deep black and nervous eyes as I picked it up, wished it well, and released it off the stern of the boat. It was a cool moment.

Animals Seen Today

Fin whales
Lots of seabirds including Storm Petrels, tufted puffins, Laysan and black-footed and short-tailed albatross, flesh footed shearwater, and an osprey that followed the boat for half the night
Mola mola (ocean sunfish), which was far north of its normal range

September 16, 2018September 17, 2018

Ashley Cosme: Jaws! – September 13th, 2018

NOAA Teacher at Sea

Ashley Cosme

Aboard NOAA Ship Oregon II

August 31 – September 14, 2018

Mission: Shark/Red Snapper Longline Survey

Geographic Area of Cruise: Gulf of Mexico

Date: September 13, 2018

Weather data from the Bridge:

Latitude: 29 45.5N
Longitude: 88 22.4W
Wind speed: 4 Knots
Wind direction: 060 (Coming from Northeast)
Sky cover: Clear
Visibility: 10 miles
Barometric pressure: 1016.4 atm
Sea wave height: 1 foot
Sea Water Temp: 30.3°C
Dry Bulb: 28.2°C
Wet Blub: 25.9°C

Science and Technology:

The one thing that pops into most people’s mind when they hear the word ‘shark’ is their sharp teeth. Surprisingly, not all sharks have sharp teeth. The diet of a shark determines the shape of their teeth. The picture below is a set of jaws from two different species of sharks. The jaws on the right are from an Atlantic sharpnose shark (Rhizoprionodon terraenovae), and the set of jaws on the left is from a gulf smoothhound (Mustelus sinusmexicanus). The Atlantic sharpnose shark possesses small razor blade-like teeth because their diet consists of many different species of fish, as well as worms, crabs, and mollusks. The gulf smoothhound possess teeth that are shorter, less sharp, and more closely packed together. Their diet consists mainly of crustaceans and smaller species of fish.

Jaws from a gulf smoothhound (*Mustelus sinusmexicanus*) and an Atlantic sharpnose shark (*Rhizoprionodon terraenovae*)

Personal Log:

Day Crew.jpg — Shark/Red Snapper Survey Day Crew

We completed our last haulback tonight and we caught a whopping 48 fish. Just before the haulback I watched the sun set one last time before I head home tomorrow. These past two weeks have been so rewarding for me professionally and personally. There were times when I felt like a college intern again, and I loved the feeling of not knowing all the answers. So often my students think I have the answer to everything, and it was so refreshing to be back in their shoes for two weeks. The NOAA scientists and fisherman expressed so much patience with me. It reminded me that my students are learning most of the material in my classroom for the first time, and they will be more successful if I show them patience as they work through understanding the many details that I throw at them in one class period.

I most excited to get back to my family. I fly in very late tomorrow night so I will not see my kids until they wake up on Saturday morning. I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when they see that Mommy is finally home! Once everyone is awake I am driving straight to Dunkin’ Donuts for an iced coffee.

September 16, 2018September 17, 2018

Martha Loizeaux: Sensational Satellites, August 29, 2018

NOAA Teacher at Sea

Martha Loizeaux

Aboard NOAA Ship Gordon Gunter

August 22-31, 2018

Mission: Summer Ecosystem Monitoring Survey

Geographic Area of Cruise: Northeast Atlantic Ocean

Date: August 29, 2018

Weather Data from the Bridge

Latitude: 39.115 N
Longitude: 74.442 W
Water Temperature: 26.4◦C
Wind Speed: 11.7 knots
Wind Direction: SW
Air Temperature: 28.2◦C
Atmospheric Pressure: 1017.03 millibars
Depth: 22 meters

Science and Technology Log

Today I was excited to learn more about the work of Charles Kovach, Support Scientist with Global Science and Technology, a contractor to NOAA Center for Satellite Applications and Research (STAR).

Charles’s work may sound familiar. It is a bit similar to the work I wrote about yesterday that Audrey and Kyle are doing with the University of Rhode Island. He wants to match what satellite pictures are seeing to what is really here in the ocean.

Charles has another cool tool called a “hyperspectral profiler” or hyperpro for short. He can put this tool into the water to measure light at the surface, light coming down through the water, and light bouncing back up from the deep. He wants to know how the sunlight changes as it goes down into the deep and back up through the water. The hyperpro measures thousands of different colors as they travel through the water. Seeing what colors bounce back from the water can help you understand what is IN the water. For example, you can see some of this with your own eyes. Blue water is usually clean and clear, green water has a lot of algae, and brown water has a lot of particles like sand or dirt. But the hyperpro gets A LOT more detail than just our eyes.

Martha hyperpro computer — *Me assisting with the hyperpro deployment. I had to read the computer program and alert Charles regarding the depth of the instrument.*

Charles hyperpro — *Charles deploying the hyperpro*

The main purpose of this is to understand what satellites are seeing. We can get images from satellites out in space, like a picture of the ocean. But the satellite is outside of our atmosphere so it is seeing light that has gone through a lot of air and gases as well as the ocean. So when scientists can measure the light in the ocean at the same time that the satellite is taking a picture, they can use MATH to find a relationship between what the satellite sees and what is really happening on Earth. In this way, Charles can calibrate (make more accurate) and validate (make sure it is right) the satellite images.

This is helpful information for A LOT of people all over the world. Scientists are pretty good at collaborating because they know how important it is to share information with everyone so we can all be more aware of what is happening in our natural world. Charles collaborates with other countries and their satellites, as well as NOAA’s satellites.

Charles also collaborates with other scientists on the ship and in NOAA’s laboratories. This way he can compare his light data to other measurements such as chlorophyll (remember? It’s from phytoplankton!), turbidity, and even specific species of plankton. Then he can find relationships between things like the light and the plankton or turbidity. He can use MATH to write an equation for this relationship (we call that an algorithm). And you know what that means? We can use a satellite picture to tell what kind of plankton is in the water! We can see tiny plankton from space! WOW.

Collecting and Analyzing Data

When Charles uses his hyperpro, the machine automatically records the light data and we can see it on a computer screen. Then he uses special computer software to analyze the data to better understand what it means and how it relates to the satellite. He creates line graphs to understand the colors of light that are coming down into and up out of the water.

data processed — *Charles’s data after it’s been processed or analyzed. He ends up with line graphs, satellite images, and photos as scientific evidence.*

One thing I have noticed with all of the scientist on the ship is the importance of data collection! I have entered some of the data and have noticed data sheets around the wet lab. If we do not write or type every bit of data, then it can’t teach us anything. Scientists write data into a data table of columns and rows. This keeps it organized and easy to understand. When they analyze the data, they will often create a graph from the data table. This helps them to see a picture of relationships between the measurements.

A Few Questions for Charles

Me – How did you become interested in your field of study?

Charles – I worked in Florida as a water quality manager. It became obvious that we needed to see the bigger picture to truly understand what was happening in the water. Satellites are the best way to try to get a picture of what is happening over a large space at the same time.

Me – What would you recommend to a young person exploring ocean and science career options?

Charles – Work hard in MATH! I use math every day and would not be able to do this work without it. It is very important! Computer coding is also important in the work I do.

Charles computer — *Charles surrounded by his work.*

Personal Log

Wow, I cannot believe how much I am learning during this experience. It is truly fascinating.

In my past blogs, I mentioned spending some down time on the fly bridge. I wanted to share more about that part of the ship because it is a truly peaceful place and really allows you to feel that you are in the middle of the ocean!

The fly bridge is the highest of the decks on the ship. It is above the “bridge deck” (where NOAA Corps operates the ship) and just under the radar sensors. At any given time during the day, you can find some of the science team and sometimes the NOAA Corps team up on the fly bridge. We might be checking with the seabird observers to see what animals have been spotted, taking a nap in the sun at the picnic table, staring out at the water with binoculars, or getting cozy with a good book. It’s a great place to soak it all in and my favorite place on the ship.

fly bridge view — *The view from the fly bridge*

One level below the fly bridge is the bridge deck where the ship is operated. NOAA Corps Officers are happy to answer questions and it’s also a fun and interesting place to visit. It’s a great place to see the charts that officers use to navigate, radar screens, and other cool ship operating tools. They even let me take control of the ship! JUST KIDDING! That would never happen, unless I trained to become an officer myself and was authorized to control the ship. Maybe one day!

pretending to drive — *Me driving the ship. Just kidding. But I could pose for a photo just for fun.*

Did You Know?

The largest species of plankton is called a Mola mola. It is a large fish that looks like it had its tail cut off! It’s flat, rounded shape allows it to flow with the currents along with its food source, other plankton! Because the Mola mola is a living thing that drifts with currents, it is plankton! The seabird observers have seen several Mola mola on this trip. Maybe I’ll see one tomorrow…

Mystery Photo

Can you guess what this photo is? Add your guess to the comments below!

September 15, 2018October 4, 2018

Mark Van Arsdale: What Makes Up an Ecosystem? Part III – Zooplankton, September 15, 2018

NOAA Teacher at Sea

Mark Van Arsdale

Aboard R/V Tiglax

September 11 – 26, 2018

Mission: Long Term Ecological Monitoring

Geographic Area of Cruise: North Gulf of Alaska

Date: September 15, 2018

Weather Data from the Bridge

Mostly cloudy, winds southerly 20 knots, waves to eight feet

57.56 N, 147.56 W (in transit from Gulf of Alaska Line to Kodiak Line)

Science Log

What Makes Up an Ecosystem? Part III Zooplankton

The North Gulf of Alaska Long-term Ecological Research Project collects zooplankton in several different ways. The CalVET Net is dropped vertically over the side of the boat to a depth of 100 meters and then retrieved. This net gives researchers a vertical profile of what is going on in the water column. The net has very fine mesh in order to collect very small plankton. Some of these samples are kept alive for later experiments. Others are preserved in ethanol for later genetic analysis. One of the scientists aboard is interested in the physiological details of what makes copepods thrive or not. Copepods are so important to the food webs of the Gulf of Alaska, that their success or failure can ultimately determines the success or failure of many other species in the ecosystem. When “the blob” hit the Gulf of Alaska in 2014-2016, thousands and thousands of sea birds died. During those same years, copepods were shown to be less successful in their growth and egg production.

Chief Scientist Russ Hopcroft prepping the Multi-net

The second net used to collect zooplankton is the Multi-net. We actually use two different Multi-nets. The first is set up to do a vertical profile. In the morning, it’s dropped vertically behind the boat. Four or five times a night, we tow the second Multi-net horizontally while the boat moves slowly forward at two knots. This allows us to collect a horizontal profile of plankton at specific depths. If the water depth is beyond 200 meters, we will lower the net to that depth and open the first net. The first net samples between 200 and 100 meters, above 100 meters we open the second net. As we go up each net is opened in decreasing depth increments, the last one being very close to the surface. Once the net is retrieved, we wash organisms down into the cod end, remove the cod end, and preserve the samples in glass jars with formalin. In a busy night, we may put away twenty-five pint-sized samples of preserved zooplankton. When those samples go back to Fairbanks they have to be hand-sorted by a technician to determine the numbers and relative mass of each species. We are talking hours and hours of time spend looking through a microscope. One night of work on the Tiglax may produce one month of work for technicians in the lab.

Underwater footage of a Multi-net triggering.

The last type of net we use is a Bongo net. Its steel frame looks like the frame of large bongo drums. Hanging down behind the frame is two fine mesh nets, approximately seven feet long terminating in a hard plastic sieve or cod end. Different lines use different nets based on the specific questions researchers have for that transect line or the technique used on previous years transects. To maintain a proper time series comparison from year to year, techniques and tools have to stay consistent.

I’ve spent a little bit of time under the microscope looking at some of the zooplankton samples we have brought in. They are amazingly diverse. The North Gulf of Alaska has two groups of zooplankton that can be found in the greatest abundance: copepods and euphausiids (krill.) These are food for most other animals in the North Gulf of Alaska. Fish, seabirds, and baleen whales all eat them. Beyond these two, I was able to observe the beating cilia of ctenophores and the graceful flight of pteropods or sea angels, the ghost-like arrow worms, giant-eyed amphipods, and dozens of others.

Deep sea squid, an example of a vertical migrator caught in our plankton trawls

By far my favorite zooplankton to watch under the microscope was the larvae of the goose neck barnacle. Most sessile marine organisms spend the early, larval stage of their lives swimming amongst the throngs of migrating zooplankton. Barnacles are arthropods, which are defined by their exoskeletons and segmented appendages. Most people would recognize barnacles encrusting the rocks of their favorite coastline, but when I show my students videos of barnacles feeding most are surprised to see the delicate feeding structures and graceful movements of this most durable intertidal creature. When submerged, barnacles open their shells and scratch at particles in the water with elongated combs that are really analogous to legs. The larva of the goose neck barnacle has profusely long feeding appendages and a particularly beautiful motion as it feeds.

We have to “fish” for zooplankton at night for two reasons. The first is logistical. Some work needs to get done at night when the winch is not being used by the CTD team. The second is biological. Most of the zooplankton in this system are vertical migrators. They rise each night to feed on phytoplankton near the surface and then descend back down to depth to avoid being seen in the daylight by their predators. This vertical migration was first discovered by sonar operators in World War II. While looking for German U-boats, it was observed that the ocean floor itself seemed to “rise up” each night. After the war, better techniques were developed to sample zooplankton, and scientists realized that the largest animal migration on Earth takes place each night and each morning over the entirety of the ocean basins.

One of my favorite videos on plankton.

Personal Log

The color of water

This far offshore, the water we are traveling through is almost perfectly clear, yet the color of the ocean seems continuously in flux. Today the sky turned gray and so did the ocean. As the waves come up, the texture of the ocean thickens and the diversity of reflection and refraction increases. Look three times in three directions, and you will see three hundred different shades of grey or blue. If the sun or clouds change slightly, so does the ocean.

The sea is anything but consistent. Rips or streaks of current can periodically be seen separating the ocean into distinct bodies. So far in our trip, calm afternoons have turned into windy and choppy evenings. Still, the crew tells me that by Gulf of Alaska standards, we are having amazing weather.

Variations in water texture created by currents in the Gulf of Alaska.

Did You Know?

The bodies of puffins are much better adapted to diving than flying. A puffin with a full belly doesn’t fly to get out of the way of the boat so much as butterfly across the surface of the water. Michael Phelps has nothing on a puffin flapping its way across the surface of the water.

Animals Seen Today

Fin and sperm whales in the distance
Storm Petrels, tufted puffins, Laysan and black-footed and short-tailed albatross, flesh footed shearwaters

September 14, 2018October 4, 2018

Mark Van Arsdale: What Makes Up an Ecosystem? Part II – Phytoplankton, September 14, 2018

NOAA Teacher at Sea

Mark Van Arsdale

Aboard R/V Tiglax

September 11 – 26, 2018

Mission: Long Term Ecological Monitoring

Geographic Area of Cruise: North Gulf of Alaska

Date: September 14, 2018

Weather Data from the Bridge

Mostly cloudy, winds variable 10 knots, waves to four feet

58.27 N, 148.07 W (Gulf of Alaska Line)

Science Log

What Makes Up an Ecosystem? Part II Phytoplankton

Most of my students know that the sun provides the foundational energy for almost all of Earth’s food webs. Yet many students will get stumped when I ask them, where does the mass of a tree comes from? The answer of course is carbon dioxide from the air, but I bet you already knew that.

Scientists use the term “primary productivity” to explain how trees, plants, and algae take in carbon dioxide and “fix it” into carbohydrates during the process of photosynthesis. Out here in the Gulf of Alaska, the primary producers are phytoplankton (primarily diatoms and dinoflagellates). When examining diatoms under a microscope, they look like tiny golden pillboxes, or perhaps Oreos if you are feeling hungry.

Primary productivity experiments running on the back deck of the Tiglax.

One of the teams of scientists on board is trying to measure the rates of primary productivity using captive phytoplankton and a homemade incubation chamber. They collect phytoplankton samples, store them in sealed containers, and then place them into the incubator. Within their sample jars, they inject a C₁₃ isotope. After the experiment has run its course, they will use vacuum filtration to separate the phytoplankton cells from the seawater. Once the phytoplankton cells are captured on filter paper they can measure the ratios of C₁₂to C_13. Almost all of the carbon available in the environment is C₁₂and can be distinguished from C₁₃. The ratios of C₁₂ to C₁₃ in the cells gives them a measurement of how much dissolved carbon is being “fixed” into sugars by phytoplankton. Apparently using C₁₄ would actually work better but C₁₄ is radioactive and the Tiglax is not equipped with the facilities to hand using a radioactive substance.

During the September survey, phytoplankton numbers are much lower than they are in the spring. The nutrients that they need to grow have largely been used up. Winter storms will mix the water and bring large amounts of nutrients back to the surface. When sunlight returns in April, all of the conditions necessary for phytoplankton growth will be present, and the North Gulf of Alaska will experience a phytoplankton bloom. It’s these phytoplankton blooms that create the foundation for the entire Gulf of Alaska ecosystem.

Personal Log

Interesting things to see

The night shift is not getting any easier. The cumulative effects of too little sleep are starting to catch up to me, and last night I found myself dosing off between plankton tows. The tows were more interesting though. Once we got past the edge of the continental shelf, the diversity of zooplankton species increased and we started to see lantern fish in each of the tows. Lantern fish spend their days below one thousand feet in the darkness of the mesopelagic and then migrate up each night to feed on zooplankton. The have a line of photophores (light producing cells) on their ventral sides. When they light them up, their bodies blend in to the faint light above, hiding their silhouette, making them functionally invisible.

A lantern fish with its bioluminescent photophores visible along its belly.

Once I am up in the morning, the most fun place to hang out on the Tiglax is the flying bridge. Almost fifty feet up and sitting on top of the wheelhouse, it has a cushioned bench, a wind block, and a killer view. This is where our bird and marine mammal observers work. Normally there is one U.S. Fish and Wildlife observer who works while the boat is transiting from one station to the next. On this trip, there is a second observer in training. The observers’ job is to use a very specific protocol to count and identify any sea bird or marine mammal seen along the transect lines.

Today we saw lots of albatross; mostly black-footed, but a few Laysan, and one short-tailed albatross that landed next to the boat while were casting the CTD. The short-tailed albatross was nearly extinct a few years ago, and today is still considered endangered. That bird was one of only 4000 of its species remaining. Albatross have an unfortunate tendency to follow long-line fishing boats. They try to grab the bait off of hooks and often are drowned as the hooks drag them to the bottom. Albatross are a wonder to watch as they glide effortlessly a few inches above the waves. They have narrow tapered wings that are comically long. When they land on the water, they fold their gangly wings back in a way that reminds me of a kid whose growth spurts hit long before their body knows what to do with all of that height. While flying, however, they are a picture of grace and efficiency. They glide effortlessly just a few inches above the water, scanning for an unsuspecting fish or squid. When some species of albatross fledge from their nesting grounds, they may not set foot on land again for seven years, when their own reproductive instincts drive them to land to look for a mate.

Our birders seem to appreciate anyone who shares their enthusiasm for birds and are very patient with all of my “What species is that?” questions. They have been seeing whales as well. Fin and sperm whales are common in this part of the gulf and they have seen both.

A Laysan Albatross, photo credit Dan Cushing

Did You Know?

Albatross, along with many other sea birds, have life spans comparable to humans. It’s not uncommon for them to live sixty or seventy years, and they don’t reach reproductive maturity until well into their teens.

Animals Seen Today

Fin and sperm whales
Storm Petrels, tufted puffins, Laysan and black-footed and short-tailed albatross, flesh footed shearwater