NOAA Teacher at Sea Alexandra Keenan Onboard NOAA Ship Henry B. Bigelow June 18 – June 29, 2012
Mission: Cetacean Biology Geographical area of the cruise: Gulf of Maine
Date: June 23, 2012
Weather Data from the Bridge: Air temperature: 14.4° C
Sea temperature: 13.3° C
Wind speed: 10.5 knots
Wind direction: from the SW
Science and Technology Log:
Whales are social creatures with a remarkable ability to communicate with one another over long distances using sounds. Male humpback whales, for example, can sing for days on end over mating grounds to attract the ladies, or over feeding grounds such as the ones on Georges Bank (where we are!) The acoustic behavior of sperm whales may even provide for distinct cultures within the species.
Given these vocalizations, it is possible to monitor the distribution and behavior of acoustically active marine animals using special recording units called “marine autonomous recording units” (MARUs). For the past few days, we have been zig-zagging and loopty-looping around Georges Bank to retrieve several of these MARUs (track our ship’s course here).
MARUs are little buoys designed to sit on the ocean floor and record all sounds within a certain range of frequencies. The MARUs we retrieved during this cruise have been on Georges Bank since the March cruise on the Delaware II (see Chief Scientist Allison Henry’s blog post).
To retrieve a buoy:
1. An acoustic signal (a sound) is sent out from a speaker lowered into the water that basically says to the buoy, “Hello! Are you there?” Listen: Signal used to contact buoy
Bioacoustician Denise Risch sends a signal to the MARU.
2. The buoy can then respond with another acoustic signal, “Yup!”
Research analyst Genevieve Davis and intern Julia Luthringer listen for a response from the MARU.
3. Upon hearing confirmation that the buoy is indeed in the area, the bioacoustician can send another signal to the buoy telling it to burn the wire anchoring it to the sandbags on the ocean floor.
4. The buoy is free! It floats to the sea surface and is retrieved from the side of the ship.
Denise Risch, Genevieve Davis, and Julia Luthringer wait for the ship to approach the MARU (small yellow dot in ocean).
5. Data is retrieved from flash memory on the buoy for further analysis.
MARU ready for data retrieval.
What will these MARUs be able to tell bioacousticians (scientists that study sounds produced by living organisms)?
Lots! Using passive acoustic monitoring (recording the sounds that marine mammals make), scientists can study the distribution of acoustically active mammals and can couple distribution data with environmental measurements of the area to identify relationships between conditions on the ocean and acoustic activity. Scientists can also distinguish whale species based on their sounds, so certain species of whale can be monitored.
Physics break: Why do you think whales have evolved to use sound rather than sight or smell to communicate underwater?
Personal Log:
I have been amazed by the amount of maintenance being done while we are underway. Even with a relatively new ship like the Bigelow, there is always something to be done, whether it be grinding away at the deck for subsequent repainting or fixing a malfunctioning pump.
Deck crew member Tony repaints the deck after grinding off the old paint while we are underway.
We spend most of our days out on the fly bridge watching for whales, and mostly we see whales.
Equipment used for watching for whales from the flybridge.
However, once in a while a shark, turtle, or mola mola floats by. I really get a kick out of the mola molas. They look like they could be the subject of a Pokemon trading card– a big flat fish head with fins sticking out. They eat jelly fish and have few natural predators. Adults weigh an average of 2200 lbs!
The other-worldly mola mola.
A short video of one in action below:
Finally, I wanted to introduce everyone on the science team for this cruise:
From left to right: Me, Scientist Pete Duley, Bioacoustician Denise Risch, Chief Scientist Allison Henry, Scientist Jen Gatzke, Research Analyst Genevieve Davis, and Intern Julia Luthringer (photo courtesy CO Zegowitz)
NOAA Teacher at Sea Jennifer Fry Onboard NOAA Ship, Oscar Elton Sette March 12 – March 26, 2012
Mission: Fisheries Study Geographical area of cruise: American Samoa Date: March 14, 2012
At Sea: Pago Pago, American Samoa
Science and Technology Log:
My current assignment aboard ship is helping the scientists with the “Nighttime Cobb Trawling” We conduct two trawls in the night, the first one beginning around 9:00 p.m. and the second one at 1:30 a.m.. After each trawl which lasts 2 hours, the nets are brought up and we sort the catch. The scientists are looking for migration patterns and types of sea life in this region. Not much data has been collected in American Samoa.
There are 3 other scientists working on this project.
John Denton, is from the Natural History Museum in New York.
Aimee Hoover works for University of Hawaii.
Sione “Juice” Lam Yuen and Faleselau “House” or “Fale” Tuilagi are from the Fisheries Dept .in American Samoa.
The two trawls exaimine five species of fish:
Myctophid fish
non-myctophid fish
crustaceans
gelatinous zooplankton
cephalopods
During one of the trawls the other night, they think they found a new species of myctophid fish. These fish have photophores which make them glow in the dark. They are anywhere from 4-5 inches to very tiny, 1 inch.
Myctophids are among the most numerous fish in the sea. They have specific light producing organs called photophores.
After 4 days on the night shift, I’m getting into the groove. Going to sleep at 6 a.m. and waking up at 1:00 p.m.
It’s crazy. Last night we did 2 trawls for fish. We caught a huge fish, approx 4 feet in diameter, called a Sharptail mola, Masturus lanceolatus or Sunfish. The scientists and crew were able to free him and let him go back into the ocean. Click here to see the exciting video of the release of the Mola: Releasing the Sharptail mola, Masturus lanceolatus/ Sun-fish
During tonight's Cobb trawl a sharp-tailed mola was caught in the net. The crew and scientists aided in freeing the fish allowing him to swim away. Mola can reach 100 years old.
When conducting a scientific experiment it is very important to maintain the same procedure or protocol. This allows the scientist to measure only that which he/she is interested in, keeping all constants the same.
Here is the procedure or protocol for each Midwater Cobb Trawl:
1. Secure the TDR and Netminds tracking devices to the trawl net Let out the trawl net, timing for 30 minutes at 350 meters of “wire out.”
2. Ask the bridge and trawl net operator to raise the net line to 100 meters “wire out.”
3. Time the trawling for additional 30 minutes.
4. Once the trawl net has been hauled in:
5. Cut away the TDR and Netminds tracking devices: Their data is read on the computer. Helping scientists determine temperature, depth for each trawl.
6. Working together, scientist and crew members collect the specimens caught is the Cobb net.
7. The fish collected are taken to the wet lab and strained into a net that is in turn poured into examining trays.
8. Scientists then collect data including: weight (volume & mass), length (centimeters) , and count the number of each species recording the
minimum and maximum lengths.
9. The scientists preserve each group of fish in ethanol/ ethyl alcohol which eases transportation and preserves the fish for further study back in the lab.
Personal Log:
I’ve switched to working the night shift, tonight being the third night. It’s getting a little easier, although we all still get punchy around 3-4 a.m. I am scheduled to work nights until next Monday. We will continue counting the fish, setting the trawl nets out, imputing the data, preserving the fish. All very interesting work.
Animals Seen:
Sharptail mola, Masturus lanceolatus fish
Moorish Idol fish
Two Moorish Idol fish were caught in the Cobb Trawl net. Their colors were brilliant including their unique dorsal filament.
NOAA Teacher at Sea
Caitlin Thompson Aboard NOAA Ship Bell M. Shimada August 1 — 14, 2011
Mission: Pacific Hake Survey Geographical Area: Pacific Ocean off the Oregon and Washington Coasts Date: August 9, 2011
Weather Data from the Bridge
Bringing in the net
Lat. 47 degrees 42.4 N
Long. 125 degrees 51.3
Present weather: cloudy
Visibility: 10 n.m.
Wind direction: 322
Speed 18 kts
Sea wave height: 3-4 feet
Swell waves – direction: 320
Swell waves – height: 4-5 feet
Sea water temperature: 16.7 degrees C
Sea level pressure: 1019.7 mb
Temperature – dry bulb: 14.9 degrees C
Temperature – wet bulb: 13.2 degrees C
Science and Technology Log
A mola mola, like the one I saw from deck.
Today the ocean was crystal clear and the sky partly clear. I saw amazing creatures floating on the still surface of the water — salps, mola mola, and jellies. Mola mola, also called sun fish, are flat and float on the surface of the water, seeming to sun themselves, eating jellyfish. The water was speckled with salps, identifiable by their small, jelly-like bodies and dark center. When Jennifer saw the salps, she groaned, explaining that their presence suggests a relaxation in the winds that drive upwelling. Less upwelling means fewer nutrients for the whole marine system. I spent the whole day trying to wrap my head around the fact that the slight winds I feel every day drive such an enormous system as coastal upwelling, and that one peaceful day could cause so many salps to be floating on the surface.
Black-footed albatross, like the one I saw
Usually there are enormous black-footed albatross all around the ship. Albatross, one of the biggest birds in the world, spend most of their lives at sea, coming to shore only to breed. The albatross I see may be nesting on remote Pacific islands, traveling many days to gorge themselves on fish off the West Coast before returning to their nests. They come to our waters because of all the fish here due to upwelling. An albatross can be away from the nest as many as seven days, returning to regurgitate fish from its stomach, which the chicks will eat. Like many seabirds, albatross fly extremely efficiently. They rise and sink repeatedly as they fly to use the energy from the wind. They also use the rising air that comes off of waves for more lift. I see them soaring without moving their wings, so close to the water that they disappear from view behind small waves. Before flapping, they seem to tilt upward, and even so, their wings appear to skim the water. A windless day like today is a hard day for an albatross to fly, so they stay on the water. I saw very few, all in grounded groups.
Tufted Puffin
Instead of albatross, I saw many small diving birds, especially when we came close to the beautiful, jagged coast of the Quillayutte River and La Push, Washington. I saw tufted puffins in bright breeding plumage, surfacing on the water for a few minutes before bobbing back under for surprisingly long times. The day before we set sail, Shelby and I visited the Newport Aquarium, where we saw tufted puffins in the arboretum. We saw the puffins swim through the water in the arboretum, wings flapping as if they were flying. We told a volunteer we were headed to sea. She said to look for single puffins close to shore. This time of year, puffins are nesting in pairs, making nests in burrows in cliff faces this time of year. While one puffin stays in the nest, its mate goes to sea, eats its fill of fish, stuffs about another seven fish in its beak, and returns to feed its chicks. The puffins I saw certainly looked like they were hard at work hunting for fish.
Deploying the Tow Fish
Today I helped deploy two sonar devices that I haven’t seen before, a sub-bottom profiler called a tow fish, and an Expendable Bathythermograph (XBT). The tow fish is a sub-bottom profiler, meaning that it sends a signal to map the bottom of the ocean. The scientists on the acoustics team are using it to look for fish. We backtracked over a section where we fished yesterday and dragged the tow fish alongside the ship. The data from the tow fish will be analyzed later, and proofed against the information from the haul and the other sonars. As usual, the goal is to be able to use the data to identify specifies with more and more accuracy.
Alicia showing me how to launch the XBT
The XBT is a probe that measures the temperature of the water. Falling at a known rate, it sends the temperature back through two small copper wires, which can be graphed as a function of temperature vs. depth in order to find the temperature profile of the water. Because the XBT looks vaguely like a gun, Larry left earplugs and a mask out for me, warning me about the explosion I was about to make. However, Alicia was in charge. She said, “There’s a hazing that happens with the XBT. I’m a bad liar. You don’t need this stuff.” So I went out on deck in just a life jacket and hardhat, which are required when doing any operation on deck. Once the technology tech radioed that the XBT had fallen to the necessary depth, I broke the copper wires. They were so thin I could cut them by rubbing them between my fingers.
Shelby taking algae samples
Shelby, my roommate and a student Western Washington University, showed me her work measuring harmful algal blooms (HAB). While algae and other phytoplankton are essential to marine ecosystem because as primary producers, some algae produce domoic acid. Domoic acid is toxic to marine life and humans. Using surface water collected outside the boat and pumped into a hose in the chemistry lab, Shelby filters the water and saves the filter paper for further analysis of domoic acid and chlorophyll. A NOAA scientist will compile her data in an effort to map HAB along the West Coast. Shelby is a volunteer, one of four college students who each collect the data for one leg of the journey.
Personal Log
Rebecca teaching me to make fish prints from the yellow-tails we had caught
Life aboard the Shimada seems to suit me very well. Every time I ask a question, which is often, I learn something new, and every time I look outside, I see something I never saw before. Yesterday, I ran into Rebecca in a hallway. Excited, she said, “There’s a P3 about to launch a sonobuoy!” I asked her to repeat. She said, “There’s a P3 about to launch a sonobuoy!” I stared at her. She said, “A plane is dropping stuff. Go outside and watch.” We both had to laugh about that one. Outside, I quickly learned that a marine ship had called the bridge to ask if we would help with a mission to drop a sonobuoy. A sonobuoy is a listening device. With a parachute attached, it drifts into the ocean, where it floats, using passive sonar to report the location of objects like submarines. The day was shockingly beautiful, so a number of us stood on the very top deck of the ship, called the fly bridge or, jokingly, the beach. We watched the airplane circling us and watched the drifting clouds and diving birds. Several people declared it the flattest water they had ever seen in these parts.
I am happy to say that, with beginner’s luck, I won the first match of cribbage, placing me in semi-finals, and have started staying up in the evenings playing cards with other people on board.
NOAA Teacher at Sea Julianne Mueller-Northcott Onboard R/V Hugh R. Sharp May 11 – 22, 2010
NOAA Teacher at Sea: Julianne Mueller-Northcott University of Delaware R/V Hugh R. Sharp Mission: Sea Scallop Survey: Leg III Port of Departure: Lewes, Delaware Location: Off the coast of Virginia Date: May 12, 2010
Weather Data from the Bridge
Air temp: 13.72⁰C, 85% humidity, overcast
Science and Technology Log
When the dredge gets pulled up the ramp of the ship, I always strain to try to see past the chain and netting to see what amazing creatures might have gotten caught in the dredge. I can see the pale-as–a-ghost face on the underside of skates and flounders. The sea stars fall to the table in a big mound and you can see the crabs trying to climb the net. And of course the scallops! They get dumped out onto the table in a wave. The pile of creatures undulates as organisms try to right themselves and seek cover. Each dredge so far has been different. Some are chock full of sea stars such as Asterias forbesii and Asterias vulgaris which we have at home, but by far the most abundant sea star species is Astropectin sp. There was one dredge that was all sand dollars and they tumbled out onto to the deck, like hundreds of poker chips, hockey pucks and small frisbees. I noticed that all of the fish in the dredge were green and then everything else started turning green. Apparently, sand dollars turn everything green! No one was quite sure why—this will be something to investigate once I get home.
So you can imagine how exciting it is to see hundreds (in some cases maybe thousands) of your sea friends, dumped out in front of you to examine! I think about all the hours toiling at Odiorne Point with my students searching under rocks and peeling back algae in the intertidal zone looking for a hidden gem. Here on the sorting table at the back of the boat there are so many species, so many things waiting to be discovered. I think about my marine biologists at home and how excited they would be to have some of these critters for our tank! (And while the thought has crossed my mind to try to kidnap some, that might be a difficult situation to explain going through security at the airport—a cooler full of crabs, sand dollars, sea stars and scallops!) The object here is not to study all the cool creatures for hours under a microscope which is what I would love to do (there isn’t even a microscope on the ship!) but instead, to sort. My job, with 5 other people, is put out all the scallops and fish. Those get measured and counted and everything else goes back into the water. It all happens very quickly. Because the goal is to do so many dredges in a relatively short amount of time, the faster you process everything the faster we can move on to our next sampling location, which means the more data that can be collected. Also time is money on this high tech ship we are on. For the scientists to use the R/V Hugh R. Sharp it costs $12,000 a day. So it is imperative to work quickly to get the job done. But I am learning some tricks so that I can spend a little more time with the creatures I really want to check out. I usually sneak a couple of neat things to photograph off to the side and after we are finished with the work at hand take a few minutes to study them. And the scientists have figured out that when they have an organism that we haven’t seen yet, they have to show it to me before it gets tossed back overboard!
We were just pulling up a dredge last night when Ben pointed to the starboard side of the ship. There in the starlight were about eight dolphins riding in the wake of the boat. They were porpoising in and out of the water. They were gray, with speckled black dots—we don’t have a mammal field guide on board—so I am not sure which species it was. It was the first night that we could see stars, other than the sea star variety. I thought of Kat S. who was the first person who got me excited about the prospect of seeing stars at night from the boat. Between the starlight and the spotlights on the ship, the sea below sparkled. Even in the dark water you could see the water shimmer and change to a light green color, letting you know where the dolphins were just before they surfaced. I have a list of top wildlife encounters in my life (swimming with whale sharks and eagle rays, saving stranded pilot whales in the keys, viewing humpbacks breech in a storm in the Bay of Fundy, nesting sea turtles Mexico, watching baby orcas play in the San Juan Islands, etc) but even with this list, watching the dolphins at night beneath the stars was pretty magical!
Captain Bill nonchalantly mentioned that he had seen an ocean sunfish (Mola mola) yesterday morning. “What?!” I guess I hadn’t made it clear that I wanted to witness any such animal encounters. I had told my students that the ocean sunfish was the one species I was really looking forward to seeing on this trip. I had seen them in various aquariums but never in the wild. The ocean sunfish has always seemed to me a freak of natural selection. How could something so big, clumsy and awkward looking have survived evolution? Something about the way it lazes around without a care in the world has always appealed to me. This morning, I took my usual watch on the bow of the boat (as I do every morning before my watch begins at 12:00). There, about 50 ft from the boat, I saw two large fins, flopping this way and that without an apparent purpose. It was Mola mola! We didn’t get very close and our boat was traveling fast but through my binos I at least got a glimpse of its round, disc body. And a couple of hours later, I saw another—this one a little further away. So I know there are lots out there—now the goal is to get an up-close view and hopefully a photo!
Personal Log
It is pretty awesome now that the weather is brightening and we are seeing some beautiful species! I love being on the top decks watching the sunlight dance on the water. I love that everywhere I look all I see is ocean. Yesterday we saw many other ships on the water—but today it is really just us steaming along. At first it was a little hard to get used to seeing lots of dead fish in the dredge and lots of animals that don’t survive the sampling. There is a lot more by catch than I would have expected. It is going to take a little more time for me to process my thoughts about it all, but I am starting to understand that for now this is the best way for the data to be collected. While it might not be the best thing for individual organisms, these sampling techniques are important for protecting the fisheries and ultimately the ecosystem.
NOAA Teacher at Sea
Ruth S. Meadows
Onboard NOAA Ship Henry B. Bigelow June 12 – July 18, 2009
Mission: Census of Marine Life (MAR-Eco) Geographical Area: Mid- Atlantic Ridge; Charlie- Gibbs Fracture Zone Date: July 11, 2009
Waiting to see what animals we can spot off the bow
Weather Data from the Bridge
Temperature 18o C
Humidity 61%
Wind speed 4.2 knots
Science and Technology Log
Today is our last day at sea and the weather is certainly cooperating with us. We have beautiful blue skies, warm temperatures and calm waters. It is a perfect day for observing marine life. Several of us spent most of the day on the bow of the ship looking for any type of marine life. Throughout the day, we spotted three Mola mola fish, which is a very large ocean sunfish that can be found in temperate oceans.
A humpback whale breaches off the bow.
One went right by the ship so we were able to see the entire body of this fish through the water. Another one was just lying on its side but we were too far away to see it very well. Finally it was suppertime and we all went to the galley eat, somewhat disappointed that we had not seen more sea life. During supper, the call we had all been hoping to hear came, “Humpback whale off the bow.” We all left the galley and quickly ran up to the deck afraid we would miss seeing this majestic creature. We were in for a treat. It was as if the whale knew we were watching and performed for us. For over 40 minutes, the humpback whale slapped its pectoral fins, slapped its tail and even breached out of the water twice. It was an amazing sight.
The fluke of the humpback
As the whale slowly swam around, the ship carefully followed at a safe distance giving us an amazing opportunity to observe this massive mammal in its natural habitat. At one point, the whale was floating on its back and slapping both of its pectoral fins in the water at the same time. We were close enough to actually hear the sound of the fins hitting the water. Many members of the ship’s crew came to the bow to watch also. While we were watching, the chief engineer standing next to me looked down at the water next to the ship in time to point out a Mako shark swimming just below the surface moving slowly toward the rear of the ship. The afternoon turned into an amazing good bye present to the entire crew of the Bigelow. After the humpback whale made its final dive deep into the ocean, many of us stayed outside to enjoy our last sunset over the Atlantic Ocean.
Personal Log
The past four weeks on board the NOAA ship, Henry B. Bigelow, have been an amazing experience for me. We traveled over 5,000 nautical miles to search for rare and unusual animals that live in the deep ocean along the Charlie-Gibbs Fracture Zone in the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. I was truly fortunate to have been selected for this particular scientific cruise. The scientific crew, NOAA corps and crew were second to none. Everyone worked around the clock to make sure the goals of the cruise were accomplished. In addition to the professionalism of all the members of this cruise, everyone seemed to truly enjoy working together to complete all parts of the mission. Everyone, from the captain of the ship, the engineers, the deck hands, the cooks and the scientific crew, made me feel welcome and included in all the activities on board. I will take many things with me from this opportunity I was lucky enough to be selected for.
A beautiful sunset on the Atlantic
I knew I would learn a lot about the ocean and the organisms that live there. What I didn’t know before I left was how much I would enjoy getting to know the people that were a part of the MAR-ECO cruise. Thank you for allowing me to be a small part of this wonderful experience.
