NOAA Teacher at Sea Deb Novak Soon to be Aboard NOAA Ship Oregon II
August 10 – 25, 2012
Mission: Longline Shark Survey
Geographic area of Survey: The East Coast of Florida and the Gulf of Mexico Date: August 8, 2012
Introduction
Hi! My name is Deb Novak and I am so excited about being a NOAA Teacher at Sea! NOAA is the acronym for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA). NOAA studies the ocean, the atmosphere and the fish in the ocean. They are generous enough to invite a few lucky teachers to come along each year and learn about the science that happens on NOAA vessels. Feel free to read other Teacher at Sea blogs to learn more!
Ms. Deb Novak with Dinos
As the Science Coordinator for Manzano Day School for the last five years, I have loved teaching science to pre-kindergarten through 5th grade students and working with teachers to develop science curriculum. Now, I’m excited about my new position, being named the new Chief of Education for the New Mexico Museum of Natural History & Science. I will be sharing this blog with lots of people throughout the state of New Mexico, but the focus of this blog is all the wonderful students at Manzano Day School! I’m hoping some of our graduates will also log in to share this adventure with me! Since my new job is only a few short blocks away from Manzano, I will be sharing more of my experience in person when I get back to Albuquerque.
The Oregon II copyright NOAA
This is the ship I’ll be on the Oregon II. It was born the same year I was: 1967. You can find out more about the Oregon II by clicking on the picture. You can also view the path the Oregon II will be traveling during my visit. Once I am on the ship I will send out a blog photo tour of what the inside of the ship looks like. I know that I will be traveling with about 30 people who do lots of different amazing jobs. I will be sharing their stories via this blog as well. There will also be blog posts about the science of the Shark Longline Survey. WhooHooo, sharks! I was given this mission because Ms. Louise Junick’s Kindergarten class put in a special request and so I included sharks in my application. I’ve always been interested in sharks and can’t wait to learn about shark research on the Oregon II.
Whale Shark at the Georgia Aquarium
I had a cool opportunity to learn more about sharks this summer. I visited the Georgia Aquarium in Atlanta. They have the only whale sharks in an aquarium anywhere in the world. And it got even better – I got to snorkel in the tank with the whale sharks! Whale sharks are the largest fish in the sea, but they have a really tiny mouth and eat little bitty critters called plankton. The Georgia Aquarium makes sure to keep the people safe from the animals in the tank, but even more important we had to learn how to keep the animals safe from us! Some of the money I paid to swim with the whale sharks goes to a shark study that the aquarium is conducting. That is when I learned that whale sharks spend some time in the Gulf of Mexico! It would be great to see such an amazing and huge fish in the wild! With further research I found an article about whale sharks and the Gulf Oil Spill. The map shows that I would be extremely lucky if I see one since I will be on the opposite side of the Gulf of Mexico from where they tend to spend their time.
Each day I get more and more excited about my opportunity to be a Teacher at Sea. I know that I will want to share lots and lots of exciting information with everyone reading this blog. I also know that I will be able to send 2 or 3 blogs per week, so I hope you will check in and see where I am and what I am up to working with the scientists on the Oregon II. Wish me a Bon Voyage! (Happy Travels !)
NOAA Teacher at Sea
Carmen Andrews Aboard R/V Savannah July 7 – July 18, 2012
Mission: SEFIS Reef Fish Survey Geographical Location: Atlantic Ocean, off the coasts of Georgia and Florida Date: July 9, 2012
Location Data: Latitude: 30 ° 54.55’ N
Longitude: 80 ° 37.36’ W
Weather Data: Air Temperature: 28.5°C (approx. 84°F)
Wind Speed: 6 knots
Wind Direction: from SW
Surface Water Temperature: 28.16 °C (approx. 83°F)
Weather conditions: Sunny and fair
Science and Technology Log
Purpose of the research cruise and background information
The Research Vessel, or R/V Savannah is currently sampling several species of fish that live in the bottom or benthic habitats off the coasts of Georgia and Florida.
The coastal zone of Georgia and Florida and the Atlantic Ocean area where the R/V Savannah is currently surveying reef fish
These important reef habitats are a series of rocky areas that are referred to as hard bottom or “live” bottom areas by marine scientists. The reef area includes ledges or cliff-like formations that occur near the continental shelf of the southeast coast. They are called ‘reefs’ because of their topography – not because they are formed by large coral colonies, as in warmer waters. These zones can be envisioned as strings of rocky undersea islands that lie between softer areas of silt and sand. They are highly productive areas that are rich in marine organism diversity. Several species of snapper, grouper, sea bass, porgy, as well as moray eels, and other fish inhabit this hard benthic habitat.
Hard bottom of reef habitat, showing benthic fish — black sea bass is on left and gray trigger fish is on right side of image.
It is also home to many invertebrate species of coral, bryozoans, echinoderms, arthropods and mollusks.
Bottom-dwelling organisms, pulled up with fish traps deployed in the reef zone.
The rock material, or substrate of the sea bottom, is thought to be limestone — similar to that found in most of Florida. There are places where ancient rivers once flowed to a more distant ocean shoreline than now. Scientists think that these are remnants of old coastlines that are now submerged beneath the Atlantic Ocean. Researchers still have much to discover about this little known ocean region that lies so close to where so many people live and work.
The biological research of this voyage focuses primarily on two kinds of popular fish – snappers and groupers. These are generic terms for a number of species that are sought by commercial and sports fishing interests. The two varieties of fish are so popular with consumers who purchase them in supermarkets, fish markets and restaurants, that their populations may be in decline.
Red snapper in its reef habitat
At this time, all red snapper fishing is banned in the southeast Atlantic fishery because the fish populations, also known as stocks, are so low.
How the fish are collected for study
The fish are caught in wire chevron traps. Six baited traps are dropped, one by one from the stern of the R/V Savannah. The traps are laid in water depths ranging from 40 to 250 feet in designated reef areas. Each trap is equipped with a high definition underwater video camera to monitor and record the comings and goings of fish around and within the traps, as well as a second camera that records the adjacent habitat.
Fish swimming in and out of a chevron fish trap
I will provide the details of the fish trapping and data capture methods in a future blog.
Who is doing the research?
When not at sea, the R/V Savannah is docked at the Skidaway Institute of Oceanography (SKIO)on Skidaway Island, south of Savannah, Georgia. The institute is part of the University of Georgia. The SKIO complex is also the headquarters of the Gray’s Reef National Marine Sanctuary. The facility there has a small aquarium and the regional NOAA office.
The fisheries research being done on this cruise is a cooperative effort between federal and state agencies. The reef fish survey is one of several that are done annually as part of SEFIS, the Southeast Fisheries Independent Survey. The people who work to conduct this survey are located in Beaufort, North Carolina. SEFIS is part of NOAA.
Mrs. Andrews, on deck near the stern of the R/V Savannah, getting ready to unload fish traps
NOAA also allows “civilians” like me — one of the Teachers at Sea– as well as university undergraduate and graduate students to actively participate in this research.
NOAA Teacher at Sea Kristy Weaver Aboard R/V Savannah May 23 — June 1, 2012
Mission: Reef Fish Survey Location: Off the Coast of Vero Beach, Florida Date: May 27, 2012
Current Weather:73 Degrees, Windy and Rainy
Hello from Sunny Florida!
Storm clouds off the coast of Vero Beach, FL
Actually let’s change that to, “Hello from mostly cloudy Florida!”
When we learned about weather in our science kit we talked about how the weather is always changing and how we have to do different things or dress differently because of the weather. I have really been thinking about this for the past few days. I wanted this post to be about all of the science that I am doing on this trip, but the weather has taken over!
Storm clouds off the stern (back) of the boat about 20 miles off Vero Beach, FL
We were doing a lot of fishing off the coast of Georgia and our plan was to stay there for a few more days. We had to move because there was a storm that was headed right towards us. It has not rained that much. The problem is the wind. The wind makes it dangerous to work on the boat and can make large waves. If we stayed where we were there would have been waves about 5-10 feet high. Some would have been even higher.
The arrow points to where our boat is on this map of Florida
This would have been too rough to work in so we headed south to the water off Daytona Beach, Florida. After a while the water got rough there too so we headed even further south. Right now we are about 30 miles off the coast of Vero Beach, Florida.
The wind is about 20-25 miles per hour. (That would definitely be a “2” on our wind scale if we used our flags today!) That is the speed limit that cars can drive on our school’s street! The waves are about 6 feet tall right now, which is taller than I am. The boat is rocking back and forth a lot. This makes it hard to walk, but it’s also pretty funny because I need to hold onto the walls wherever I go!
The boat was rocking a lot today. Sometimes I had to hold on while we waited to drop the traps.
We are done fishing for the day because the wind is getting stronger, but we will start again in the morning. We are going to go closer to the shore where the waves will not be as big. When we get there the captain will set the anchor. The anchor will grab onto the ocean floor and hold us in one spot for the night. We will head back out to sea in the morning when the storm passes.
Clouds off the stern of the R/V Savannah Part of Tropical Storm Beryl
Weather also affected the way I packed. About three weeks ago I was on the beach with my mom and I was so cold! I was nervous that I was going to be freezing on the boat because I knew I would be working outside until midnight. So before I left for my trip I bought a whole bunch of really warm clothes to take with me. I haven’t needed any of it! It is a little more chilly on the water than it is on land, but I still haven’t needed more than a sweatshirt and shorts to stay warm. I checked the weather in New Jersey, and I checked the weather in Georgia, but I didn’t believe it! I should have trusted those meteorologists!
I can’t wait to tell you everything I have learned from the scientists on the ship! I also have some GREAT pictures of dolphins for you. They were jumping out of the water and put on quite a show for us yesterday. Make sure you check back soon to see them!
(On a personal note: I would like to wish my niece Maddie a very happy 9th birthday! Aunt Kristy loves you! Also, congratulations to my parents on the purchase of their new home! I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, but I know you understand:)
NOAA Teacher at Sea Dave Grant Aboard NOAA Ship Ronald H. Brown February 15 – March 5, 2012
Mission: Western Boundary Time Series Geographical Area: Sub-Tropical Atlantic, off the Coast of the Bahamas Date: March 2, 2012
Weather Data from the Bridge
Position: 26 degrees 19 minutes North Latitude & 79 degrees 55 minutes West Longitude
Windspeed: 14 knots
Wind Direction: South
Air Temperature: 25.4 deg C / 77.7 deg F
Water Temperature: 26.1 deg C / 79 deg F
Atm Pressure: 1014.7 mb
Water Depth: 242 m / 794 feet
Cloud Cover: none
Cloud Type: NA
“The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass,
it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.”
Henry Miller
My evenings looking through the microscope are a short course in invertebrate zoology. Every drop of water filtered through the plankton net reveals new and mystifying creatures. Perhaps 90% of marine invertebrates, like newly hatched mollusks and crustaceans, spend part of their life in a drifting stage – meroplankton; as opposed to holoplankton – organisms that are planktonic throughout their life cycle.
MOLLUSK LARVAE
BivalveUnivalve
The lucky individuals that escape being eaten, and are near a suitable substrate at the right moment, settle out into a sedentary life far from their place of origin. For the long distance travelers swept up in the Gulf Stream, the most fortunate waifs of the sea that survive long enough might make it all the way to Bermuda. The only hope for the remainder is to attach to a piece of flotsam or jetsam, or an unnatural and unlikely refuge like the electronic picket fence of moorings the Ron Brown is servicing east of the Bahamas.
“The gaudy, babbling, and remorseful day, Is crept into the bosom of the sea.” Shakespeare
A league and a half* of cable, sensors and a ton of anchor chain are wrestled on deck during a day-long operation in the tropical heat. (*A mariner’s league equals three nautical miles or 3041 fathoms [18,246 feet])
It is easy to be humbled by the immensity of the sea and the scope of the mooring project while observing miles of cable and buoys stretched towards the horizon, about to be set in place with a ton of anchor chain gingerly swung off the stern for its half-hour trip to the bosom of the sea.
Thanks to the hard labor and alert eyes of our British and French (“And Irish”) colleagues retrieving and deploying the attached temperature and salinity sensors, I am regularly directed to investigate “something crawling out of the gear” or to photograph bite marks from deep sea denizens on very expensive, but sturdy equipment.
A retrieved sensor with bite marks.
To my surprise, other than teeth marks, very little evidence of marine life is present on the miles of lines and devices strung deeper than about 200 meters. This may be due in part to the materials of which they are constructed and protective coatings to prevent bio-fouling, but sunlight or more precisely, the attenuation of it as one goes deeper, is probably the most important factor.
Fireworm (Drawings and images by Dave Grant – NOAA Ron Brown)Handle with care! Close-up of worm spines
The first discovery I was directed to was a striking red bristle worm wiggling out of the crevice in a buoy. It appears to be one of the reef-dwelling Amphinomids – the aptly-named fireworms that SCUBA divers in the Caribbean avoid because of their venomous spines; so I was cautious when handling it. This proved to be the deepest-dwelling organism we found, along with some minute growths of stony and soft corals.
“Five o’clock shadow” on a buoy – A year’s growth of fouling organisms – only an inch tall.
On shallower buoys and equipment, there are sparse growths of brown and blue-green algae, small numbers of goose barnacles, tiny coiled limey tubes of Serpulid worms like the Spirobis found on the floating gulfweed, some non-descript bivalves (Anomia?) covered with other fouling growth, skeleton shrimp creeping like inch-worms, and of course the ubiquitous Bryozoans. Searching through this depauperate community not as challenging as the plankton samples, but not surprising since our distance from land, reefs or upwelling areas – and especially clear water and lack of seabirds and fishes; are all indicators that this is a nutrient-deficient, less productive part of the ocean.
Bio-fouling – “on the half-shell.” Skeleton shrimp (Caprellidae)
The Ron Brown is the largest workhorse in the NOAA fleet and its labs and decks are intentionally cleared of equipment between cruises so that visiting scientists can bring aboard their own gear that is best suited to their specific project needs. NOAA’s physical oceanographers from Miami arrived with a truckload of crates holding Niskin water sampling bottles for the CTD and their chemistry equipment for DO (Dissolved Oxygen) and salinity measurements; and in a large shipping container (“Ship-tainer”) from England, the British and French (“and Irish”) scientists transported their own remote sensing gear, buoys, and (quite literally) tons of massive chain and cables to anchor their moorings. (I am surprised to learn from the “Brits” that the heavy chain is shipped all the way from England because it is increasingly hard to acquire. )
In the lab: Scores of sensors serviced and ready for deployment
This is how most science is facilitated on the Brown and it requires many months of planning and pre-positioning of materials. I am lucky and can travel light – and with little advanced preparation. I am using simple methods to obtain plankton samples and images via a small portable microscope, digital camera and plankton net which I can cram into my backpack for any trips that involve large bodies of water. The little Swift* scope has three lens (4x, 10x, 40x) with a 10x ocular, and I get great resolution at 40x, and can get decent resolution to 100x. Using tips from Dave Bulloch (Handbook for the Marine Naturalist) I am able to push that somewhat with a simple Nikon Coolpix* point-and-shoot camera – but lose some of the sharpness with digital zoom. As you might suspect, the ship’s movement and engine vibration can be a challenge when peering through the scope, but is satisfactory for some preliminary identification. (*These are not commercial endorsements, but I can be bought if either company is willing to fund my next cruise!)
PHYTOPLANKTON
Centric diatom – Coscinodiscus
Dinoflagellates – Different Ceratium species
ZOOPLANKTON
A Plankton précis
Collecting specimens would be much more difficult without the cooperation of the Brown’s crew and visiting scientists, and their assistance is always reliable and appreciated. The least effective method of collection has been by filtering the deep, cold bottom water brought up in the Niskin bottles. As mentioned earlier, no live specimens were recovered; only fragments of diatom and Silicoflagellate skeletons surviving the slow drift to the bottom, which I have been able to identify through deep sea core images posted at the Consortium for Ocean Leadership website.
Needless to say, the most indiscriminate method of collection and the most material collected is through the large neuston net. The greatest biomass observed on the trip is the millions of tons of Sargassum weed, which covers the surface in great slacks around us that are even visible in satellite images.
Although the continuous flow of ocean water pumped into the wet lab and through my plankton net is effective and the most convenient collection method, the most surprising finds are from the saltwater intake screens that the engineer directed me to. This includes bizarre crystal-clear, inch-long, and paper-thin Phylosoma – larvae of tropical lobsters – that I initially mistook for pieces of plastic.
Inch-long Phylosoma larvae on a glass slide. (One of the tropical lobsters.)
“All the ingenious men, and all the scientific men, and all the fanciful men in the world …
…could never invent anything so curious and so ridiculous, as a lobster.”
Charles Kingsley -The Water-Babies
Plankton communities are noticeably different between the Gulf Stream, inshore, and offshore in the pelagic waters east of the Bahamas. Near the coast, either the shallower Bahama Banks or the neritic waters over the continental shelf closer to Charleston, the plankton is larger, more familiar to me and less challenging to sort, including: copepods, mollusk larvae and diatoms. Steaming over the shelf waters at night, the ship’s wake is often phosphorescent, and dinoflagellates, including the “night-light” Noctiluca are common in those samples.
Dinoflagellate – Noctiluca
The waters east of the Bahamas along the transect line are notable for their zooplankton, including great numbers and varieties of Foraminifera, and some striking amphipod shrimp. Compared to cooler waters I am familiar with, subtropical waters here have over a dozen species of Forams, and some astonishingly colorful shrimp that come up nightly from deeper water.
It’s not all work and no play on the Ron Brown, and there are entertaining moments like decorating foam cups with school logos to send down with the CTD to document the extreme pressure at the bottom. Brought back to class, these graphically illustrate to younger students the challenges of deep sea research.
Foam cup: Before-and-after a trip to 5,000 meters
Navigating by Dead-reckoning
On calm days while we are being held on-station by the Brown’s powerful thrusters, I can measure current speeds using Sargassum clumps as Dutchman’s logs as they drift by. Long before modern navigation devices, sailors would have to use dead-reckoning techniques to estimate their progress. One method used a float attached to a measured spool of knotted line (A log-line), trailing behind the moving vessel. The navigator counted the number of knots that passed through his hands as the line played out behind the ship to estimate the vessel’s speed (in knots). Since nothing is to be tossed off the Brown, I rely on a simpler method by following the progress of the Sargassum as it drifts by stem-to-stern while we are stationary at our sampling site. Since I know the length of the Brown at the waterline (~100-meters), I can estimate current speed by observing drifting Sargassum.
Watching sargassum, I wonder if a swimmer could keep pace with the currents in these waters. When in college
my brothers and would strive to cover a 100-meter race by swimming it in under a minute. Here is the data from east of the Bahamas. See if you can determine the current speed there and if a good swimmer could keep pace.
ESTIMATING CURRENT SPEED
Data on currents:
Average of three measurements of Sargassum drifting the length of the Ron Brown = 245 seconds.
Length of the Ron Brown – 100-meters.
1. How many meters per second is the current east of the Bahamas?
2. As a swimmer in college – with my best time in the 100-meters freestyle of one minute – could I have kept up with the Ron Brown… or been swept away towards the Bahamas?
Other navigational exercises I try to include determining Latitude and Longitude. Latitude is easy as long as you can shoot the sun at midday or find the altitude of Polaris in the night sky; and sailors have done that for centuries. The ship’s navigator will get out the sextant for this, or, since the width of one’s fist is about 10-degrees of sky, I can estimate the height of both of these navigational beacons by counting the number of fists between the star and the horizon.
ESTIMATING LATITUDE
Data:
Night observation (Shooting the North Star) – Number of Fists from the Northern horizon to Polaris = 3
Day observation (Shooting the Sun) – Number of Fists from the Southern horizon to the Sun = 5.5
If the width of a fist is equal to about 10-degrees of horizon, our estimate of Latitude using Polaris is 30-degrees (3 x 10).
Not too bad an estimate on a rocking ship at night, compared to our actual location (See Data from the Bridge at the top.).
Shooting the Sun at its Zenith at 12:30 that day gives us its altitude as 55-degrees – which seems too high unless we consider the earth’s tilt (23.5-degrees). So if we deduct that (55 – 23.5) we get 31.5, which is closer to our actual position. And if we consult an Almanac, we know that the sun is still about six degrees below the Equator on its seasonal trip North; so by deducting that (31.5 – 6) we end up with an estimate of 25.5-degrees. This is an even better estimate of our Latitude.
Here is the dreaded word problem:
By shooting the Sun, our best estimate of Latitude is 25.5 degrees (25 degrees/30 minutes)
The actual Latitude of the ship using GPS is 26-degrees/19 minutes.
If there are 60 minutes to a degree of Latitude – each of those minutes representing a Nautical Mile – how many Nautical Miles off course does our estimate place us on the featureless sea?
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Longitude is much harder to determine if you don’t have an accurate timepiece to compare local time with universal time (The time at Greenwich, England), and an accurate ship’s chronometer wasn’t in use until the mid-1700’s.
To understand the challenge of designing a precise timepiece that reliably will function at sea, I used two crucial clock mechanisms: a pendulum and a spring. Finding a spring was easy, since “Doc” had a scale at Sick Bay. For the pendulum I fashioned a small weight swinging on a string)
Using the scale to observe the ship’s motion.
Standing on the scale and swinging the pendulum even in calm weather quickly demonstrated three things:
First: I have developed my sea legs, and no longer notice the regular motion of the ship. Second: Even when the sea feels calm, the scale’s spring mechanism swings back and forth under my weight; adding and deducting 20 pounds to my real weight and reflecting the ship’s rocking that I no longer notice. Three: On rough days, even if I can hold still, the ship’s heaving, pitching and rolling alters my pendulum’s reliable swing – its movements reflecting the ship’s indicator in the lab. Experimenting helps me appreciate clock-maker John Harrison, and his massive, 65-pound No. 1 Ship’s Chronometer he presented to the Royal Navy in 1728.
Ship movement as recorded by the computerDoc: Always on duty – Sick Bay on the Ron Brown
Besides having very well-provisioned Sick Bays, NOAA ships have experienced and very competent medical officers. Our “Doc” received his training at Yale, and served as a medic during the Gulf War.
Especially alert to anyone who exhibits even the mildest symptoms of sea-sickness, Christian is available 24-hours for emergencies – and in spite of the crew constantly wrestling with heavy equipment on a rocking deck, we’ve only experienced a few minor bumps and bruises. He has regular office hours every day, and is constantly on the move around the ship when not on duty there.
Besides keeping us healthy, he helps keep the ship humming by testing the drinking water supply (The Brown desalinates seawater when underway, but takes on local water while in port); surveys all departments for safety issues; and with the Captain, has the final word if-or-when a cruise is to be terminated if there is a medical emergency.
Since a stormpounding the Midwest will head out to sea and cross our path when we head north to Charleston, he is reminding everyone that remedies for sea sickness are always available at his office door, and thanks to NASA and the space program, if the motion sickness pills don’t work, he has available stronger medicine. So far we have been blessed with relatively calm weather and a resilient crew.
The warm (Red) Gulf Stream waters viewed from a satellite image.Contact: The edge of the Gulf Stream – Matthew Maury’s River in the Ocean
Birdwatching on the Ron Brown
For the time being I take advantage of the calm seas to scrutinize what’s under the microscope, and when on break, look for seabirds. East of the Bahamas, as anticipated after consulting ornithologist Poul Jespersen’s map of Atlantic bird sightings, I only spotted two birds over a two-week stretch at sea (storm petrels). This is very much in contrast to the dozens of species and hundreds of seabirds spotted in the rich waters of the Humboldt Current off of Chile , where I joined the Brown in 2008.
(http://ux.brookdalecc.edu/staff/Web%2012-2-04/seabirds/Brown%20terns%202/Terns%20%20fixed/SEPacific.html)
Passing through Bahamian waters was no more rewarding, but now that we are west and in the Florida Straits there are several species of gulls during the day, and at night more storm petrels startled by the ship’s lights. One windy night a large disoriented bird (Shearwater?) suddenly fluttered out of the dark and brushed my head before bumping a deck light and careening back out into the darkness. Throughout the day a cohort of terns has taken up watch on the forward mast of the Brown and noisily, they juggle for the best positions at the bow – resting until the ship flushes a school of flying fishes, and then swooping down across the water trying and snatch one in mid-air. Like most fishermen, they are successful only about 10% of the time.
Caspian tern “on station” at the jack mast.Royal tern “on station” at the jack mast.
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Despite the dreary forecast from the Captain, Wes and I are enthusiastic about all we have done on the cruise and formulated a list of why NOAA’s Teacher At Sea program is so rewarding.
Top Ten Reasons:
Why be a Teacher At Sea?
10. Fun and excitement exploring the oceans!
9. Meeting dedicated and diligent scientists and crew from around the world!
8. Bragging rights in the Teachers’ Room – and endless anecdotes!
7. Cool NOAA t-shirts, pins and hats from the Ship’s Store!
6. Great meals, three times a day…and FREE laundry!
5. Amazing sunsets, sunrises and star-watches!
4. Reporting on BIG science to students…and in real-time!
3. Outstanding and relevant knowledge brought back to students and colleagues!
2. First-hand experience that relates to your students’ career objectives!
1. Rewarding hours in the lab and field…remembering why you love science and sharing it with students!
NOAA Teacher at Sea Dave Grant Aboard NOAA Ship Ronald H. Brown February 15 – March 5, 2012
Mission: Western Boundary Time Series Geographical Area: Gulf Stream waters Date: March 1, 2012
Weather Data from the Bridge Position: 26.30N Latitude – 79. 23W Longitude
Wind speed: Calm
Wind direction: Calm
Air Temperature: 76E F
Atm Pressure: 1013. mb
Water Depth: 750 meters
Cloud Cover: 20%
Cloud Type: Cumulus
Personal Log
Our most persistent travel companions on the cruise are the flying fish and today they are the most abundant in the entire trip. Sit at the bow while we are plunging into the swells and it is impossible not to be mesmerized by what issues from the sea surface when old Triton blows his wreathed horn.
Over the eons, fishes have experimented with many different avenues of escape from predators and competition, and soaring out of the water is arguably the most dramatic and effective. There are scores of species in the family Exocoetidae, which comes from Greek roots and refers to “sleeping outside” – which was logical to ancient mariners who believed the flying fishes left the ocean to sleep on the shoreline. I check the Ron Brown’s deck each morning, hoping one has inadvertently landed on it, but without luck so far.
We flush them from both sides of the ship while underway. Like birds of a feather flocking together, some escaping groups are about a foot long with a wing span (Oversized pectoral fins to be exact) about the same spread. Juveniles in other schools look no larger than the silver dollar George Washington threw across the Delaware River(Or did he skip it for greater distance like these little fishes do off the crests of waves?).
Between the sky, sea and sunsets, I thought I had seen all the shades of blue on this cruise, up to the moment we had a perfect view of a flying fish that soared past the railing and then steered off towards the horizon. Flying fish exhibit all the colors of the near end of the spectrum as their attitude and altitude change in flight. Taking advantage of the mesoscale winds generated between swells, the fishes launch off wave crests and can soar farther than a football field; sustaining the flight time by sweeping their tail laterally in the water.
Flying fish are harvested throughout the warmer waters of the ocean by man and beast, and are an important staple to island cultures. Barbados – to our south – is called the “land of the flying fish” and on the reverse side of a dollar coin that I kept after a Caribbean trip, one finds the fish in flight. When we are closer to land, I hope to see one of their main aerial opponents flying out to meet us – frigate birds.
Impossible to photograph, for the time being, I’ll be content to admire their flights during the day, and at night, watch them dodge the attacks of mahi-mahi under the ship’s lights.
Flying fish off the bow!
Mahi-Mahi
Our British colleagues remembered to bring fishing poles and the mahi-mahi is the most sought after and elusive creature out here when the ship is “on-station” doing sampling. Fishes and squid routinely come to the surface and congregate under the stern lights, and occasionally a large mahi will lurk in the shadows and dart in close to us chasing prey.
Also called dolphin-fish, our fishermen have learned only that the Hawaiian name Mahi-Mahi (Many Polynesian words are repeated) means “strong” since the hooked fishes have broken their fishing lines and escaped.
Mahi is popular in restaurants and is a light, mild tasting fish. Swimming under the lights they look pale and eel-like, but when landed in a boat they exhibit a range of shades from blue and green that fades to golden – hence the Spanish name Dorado.
A Mahi rises to the surface alongside the Ron Brown
Fish ON!
Finally the fishermen had some luck and landed a jack – but without a fish guide, that’s as far as I can go in identifying it (Although the term “tuna” is loosely applied to most things that swim by.) Fortunately, I was able to get off an email and photo to Jeff Dement of the American Littoral Society (www.littoralsociety.org).
When not fishing, Jeff runs the largest independent fish tagging program in the country; distributing tags to recreational fishermen and analyzing their thousands of returns to document where fishes migrate to and how fast they grow.
His quick analysis directs us towards the lesser amberjack (Seriola fasciata) “based upon the shape of the snout, and the eye stripe length.”
Fast swimming and hard fighting, the amberjacks are popular gamefish on the line and in the skillet. Like most fish, they are tasty fried, broiled, baked, or grilled (I like fried…my doctor demands boiled, baked or grilled)
Like barracudas and some other apex predators of the reef, amberjacks are implicated in Ciguatera poisoning in humans. They acquire contaminants from eating herbivorous reef fishes that have ingested and accumulated Ciguatoxins produced by Dinoflagellates attached to marine algae they have been grazing upon. Harmless to the fishes, the poison is a neurotoxin in humans who are exposed to a concentrated dose from a top predator like the amberjack through the process called bioaccumulation. This is the same process that concentrates Mercury spewing into the atmosphere from coal-fired power plants, into the sea, then into plankton and forage fishes, and finally tuna.
An amberjack gets a close look at people before returning to the sea.
“You strange astonished-looking, angle-faced,
Dreary-mouthed, gaping wretches of the sea,
Gulping salt-water everlastingly,
Cold-blooded, though with red your blood be graced,
And mute, though dwellers in the roaring waste… What is’t you do? what life lead? eh, dull goggles?
How do ye vary your dull days and nights?
How pass your Sundays? Are ye still but joggles,
In ceaseless wash? Still sought, but gapes and bites,
And drinks and stares, diversified with boggles.”
(Leigh Hunt – The Man to the Fish)
It pays to be clear.
For me, the catch of the day is a leptocephali – a larval fish as long as my index finger, that I almost overlooked in the samples.
A number of species go through this inconspicuous stage as zooplankton, and the most famous and intensely studied are the eels. American eels spend a year drifting to East Coast estuaries from their birthplace in the Sargasso Sea. The European species takes a more leisurely two-year tour of the North Atlantic on the Gulf Stream.
