NEFSC Autumn Bottom Trawl Survey – NOAA Teacher at Sea Blog

October 30, 2026

Melina Vella: Southern Stations – Hot or Not? September 20, 2026

View of the back deck of NOAA Ship Henry B Bigelow

NOAA Teacher at Sea

Melina Vella

Aboard NOAA Ship Henry B. Bigelow

September 10 – 30, 2026

Mission: Northeast Fisheries Science Center Bottom Trawl Survey – Leg 1

Geographic Area of Cruise: Northeast Atlantic U.S. Coast

Date: September 20, 2026

Weather Data from the Bridge

Latitude: 34º48.0551’N

Longitude: 075º48.6160’W

Air Temperature: 25.5ºC (77.9ºF)

Science and Technology Log

It’s human nature to want to celebrate a big milestone. There’s a reason we look forward to birthdays and holidays. Studies show that it’s good for the brain to have checkpoints to mark our accomplishments. The big landmark (is it still a landmark if we’re at sea?) we’ve all been counting down to has finally arrived: the southernmost stations!

A closeup of a monitor showing the Coastal Explorer navigating system. The ship’s current location is represented by the lime green ship icon. Each set of blue circles represents a sampling location. These seven stations shown are the furthest south of the entire mission!

As you may recall, the range of the Northeast Fisheries Science Center Bottom Trawl Survey spans from Maine down to North Carolina. The past few days everyone onboard has been abuzz with excitement about the potential for some unique critters as we continue heading south. The novelty for me still hasn’t worn off—every item we bring up is equally thrilling—but the idea of even more rare species is enticing.

map of the east coast of the United States from Maine to North Carolina, with yellow coloring filling in the continental shelf offshore of the coast. the shelf is widest east of Boston, and narrower down near North Carolina. — A very basic map I made to visualize the general area covered by the survey using the publicly available polygon layer (NOAA NEFSC).

As we head towards the equator, we’re also heading towards much warmer water. The sea surface temperature on the first day of our trip was a chilly 20.9ºC (69.62ºF). In contrast, the sea surface temperature measured 29.2ºC (84.6ºF) on the day we reached the southernmost stations. That difference of about 10ºC (15ºF) has the potential to make a huge difference.

view of sunrise from the flying bridge of NOAA Ship Henry B. Bigelow. we see a man in a baseball cap standing at a railing, looking toward the sunrise, in silhouette. — You can’t beat the view of a sunrise from the flying bridge. It’s the perfect mid-watch pick-me-up after being in the lab in the middle of the night.

About a week into the mission, everyone’s settled into their sleeping and meal routines. We’re a well-oiled but exhausted machine.

It’s around midnight on the 17th and we’ve just switched shifts. A few members of the day watch have already retreated to their rooms after a long day while others are lingering to fill us in on the day’s trawls. From what I can tell, it was a day with just a couple of stations, but a lot of time spent in the wet lab.

Extended time in the lab can mean a couple different things:

Giant tows with an overwhelming quantity of biomass. See my last blog post, featuring the Great 3000 Pound Scallop Tow, for instance. It simply takes a long time to process the sheer number of organisms.
Back to back stations that are close together. The first few days our distances between stations (steams) were very long, sometimes hours apart. In contrast, some stations are only a few nautical miles from one another.
Smaller tows but with high biodiversity. In other words, even if there are fewer fish overall, there may be lots of different individual species. Each of them will be sorted as precisely as possible, and the extra minutes it takes to tell them apart adds up quickly.

view over the aft deck from an upper deck, down at a sorting table containing some fish. two crewmembers wearing hard hats, life vests, and gloves stand at the sorting table and look up and smile for the camera. another crewmember similarly dressed walks along the deck, heading out of frame. — Joey Dunphy, Mei Lin McLaughlin, and Ben Tuttle around the checker pen (where the net deposits the haul of fish for processing) working on the back deck.

The watch leader of day shift, Jenn, said that there was a very high amount of diversity on their shift. They pulled up some unique juvenile fish alongside a large sea sponge which caused some major excitement.

view down over the aft deck from an upper deck as perhaps 12 crewmembers wearing hard hats (many with gloves) lean over bins to examine the catch — I was able to observe the day watch team from an upper deck, giving me a bird’s eye view. They’re all working diligently to examine every tiny nook and cranny of the sponge for any animals!

We’re hoping that the night shift will be filled with just as much excitement. The door to the acoustics lab bangs open and the night watch survey technician comes in announcing with fanfare, “Almost to the southernmost station!” He and an experienced sea-going science team member are chattering away about what we might catch. We’re all throwing out things we desperately hope to see (on my end, the biggest shark one could possibly catch), and ones that we would rather not deal with (anything too venomous or bitey).

There’s an equal amount of skepticism and optimism. Another science team member, Joey Dunphy, calls the southernmost station “the most overhyped station.” He says that “sometimes it delivers, but other years it falls flat.”

So what was the verdict this year?

I know this is my first rodeo—but I’d say that it delivered above and beyond. From the tiniest of crabs to cornetfish a few feet long, there was something for everybody. Here are some of the highlights:

Disclaimer: not all of these photos are from the southernmost station, but they were all caught off the coast of North Carolina, the most southern state of the whole survey so I’m including them here anyway…

Melina, wearing large orange overalls and blue gloves, holds up an inflated porcupinefish (looks like a pufferfish) for a photo near the side rail of NOAA Ship Henry B. Bigelow. We can see other crewmembers beyond. — Here I am holding a Porcupinefish (*Diodon*). They’re related to other inflating fishes like pufferfishes in the order Tetraodontiformes.
Image Credit: Kate Bemis

In the wet lab, a NOAA Corps officer smiles as he takes a photo with his phone of a butterflyfish that an out-of-frame science team member is holding out in a gloved hand. — The excitement was contagious! People from all over the ship showed up to celebrate and see the critters! A science team member is displaying a Spotfin Butterflyfish (*Chaetodon ocellatus*) to a NOAA Corps officer.

view of two preserved butterflyfish of different species, pinned on styrofoam (like collections of true butterflies) to extend the fins for comparison. — One of the ways that specimens are preserved is by pinning them. The photo above is of a Spotted Butterflyfish and Reef Butterflyfish (*Chaetodon sedentarius*).
Image Credit: Daniel DiMichele of the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History

close-up photo of a round spiky fish (a striped burrfish, inflated) in a gloved hand — An inflated Striped Burrfish (*Chilomycterus schoepfi*).
Image Credit: Science Team Volunteer Mei Lin McLaughlin

a close up of a small spiky fish (a striped burrfish, NOT inflated) lying on wet sand surrounded by bubbles — I’ve only ever seen preserved or recently washed ashore Striped Burrfish in Delaware. The one above was found on Slaughter Beach, Delaware in August 2025 during a nature center beachcombing program.

a stargazer on a metal surface next to a printed ID tag that reads Cruise ID 202604, Station 136, Kathetostoma albigutta (lancer stargazer), Date: 2026-09-17, John Galbraith. — Stargazers, of the Uranoscopidae family, have eyes on the top of their heads looking up. This particular fish is a Lancer Stargazer (*Kathetosoma albigutta*). Someone told me that stargazers are considered the holiest fish because they are gazing up at the sky towards the heavens and the gods.

close-up view of a cowfish grasped between gloved fingers in front of a sorting table — The bold colors and intricate pattern of the Honeycomb Cowfish (*Acanthostracion polygonius*) were jaw-dropping.
Image Credit: NOAA Fisheries Biologist Joey Dunphy

even closer view of the face of a cowfish showing the protrusions above the fish's eyes — The protruding “horns” like cattle above their eyes are the reason behind the common name “cowfish.”
Image Credit: NOAA Fisheries Biologist Joey Dunphy

five crabs piled on a fish measuring board next to an empty blue glove — This photo doesn’t do justice to the gorgeous shimmering pearly legs of the Iridescent Swimming Crab (*Achelous gibbesii*).

a gloved hand holds up a slipper lobster for a photo — This is one of the most unique crustaceans I’ve ever seen–a Slipper Lobster! Of the family Scyllaridae, these are not true lobsters.

Personal Log

I could not have asked for a better day than the one we had at the southernmost stations. Not only on the science front—we caught dozens of unexpected specimens—but personally as well. The atmosphere of the ship was phenomenal. The weather and sea conditions also cooperated nicely.

Mentally and physically taking a step back (quite literally as I took the photos below), I was filled with awe at the scope of the entire mission. There are forty or so people onboard and dozens more back on land coordinating with the ship. Even more scientists will be awaiting the data and samples we’re collecting. Thousands of individuals over the more than sixty years have been part of these operations.

five science team members in orange overalls crowd together on the side deck of NOAA Ship Henry B. Bigelow - only one is looking at the camera — Night watch couldn’t contain their joy! While only featuring a few of us, this was the closest we got to a team photo… It can be hard to remember to snap group pics when we’re elbows deep in flopping fish.

crewmembers in orange overalls, wearing blue gloves, hold up fish on the side deck of the ship — James Hilton (left) looks at some especially fun fish from the southernmost tow. Daniel DiMichele (middle) holds a Cowfish (Ostraciidae family) and Hannah Palladino holds a Porcupinefish (*Diodon*).

I don’t like to get too sappy or sentimental, but I was especially overcome with gratitude thinking about the fact that I get to be one of those individuals. We all have different academic and career backgrounds, but we’re all on this shared journey in the middle of the ocean. The human element of it all doesn’t necessarily show up in the final government reports, but it certainly is carried in the memories of everyone onboard.

Did you know…

That flying fish, of the Exocoetidae family, can leap out of the water at speeds of more than 35 miles an hour?

a preserved flying fish pinned with fins spreads on styrofoam — This particular fish actually flew its way onto the deck of the ship before being preserved, pinned, and photographed.

a preserved flying fish in a tank where it will be photographed. beyond the tank, Melina works to hang up a gray curtain to create a solid background. — I was able to help out the team with capturing images of the specimen. Here I am switching out the colored backgrounds. Each color helps different features of the fish stand out clearly.
Image Credit: Kate Bemis

September 30, 2026

Melina Vella: “Spot” the Difference, September 16, 2026

NOAA Teacher at Sea

Melina Vella

Aboard NOAA Ship Henry B. Bigelow

September 10 – 30, 2026

Mission: Northeast Fisheries Science Center Bottom Trawl Survey – Leg 1

Geographic Area of Cruise: Northeast Atlantic U.S. Coast

Date: September 16, 2026

Weather Data from the Bridge

Latitude: 35º06’30.5927”N

Longitude: 075º14’04.2990”W

Wind: Northwest wind at 10 knots

Air Temperature: 25.2ºC (77.3ºF)

Science and Technology Log

Let me set the scene of an average tow for you. A conveyor belt of flopping fish (and others) moving at a rate of, what I estimate, sometimes hundreds of fish a minute. Practiced hands are moving with precision and speed to pick out dozens of fish and place them into their respective buckets. Oh–also–the ship is reorienting itself towards the next survey station so there’s a fair bit of unpredictable jostling. Gushing water sloshes around inches deep on the floor. The sensory experience is unlike any I’ve experienced before.

close-up view of a pile of fish on a nondiscernable surface. Most of the fish are one of two small, similar species, both silvery with yellow pectoral fins. in the foreground is a horseshoe crab; two other horseshoe crabs, lying amid the fish at odd angles, appear toward the back of the photo. — Quick–what species do you see?? I spy a couple horseshoe crabs, croaker, and some spot…

It’s overwhelming, but also such a thrill. I’d describe it as a similar experience as one of those blind boxes you can get at your local toy store. Just like the outside of the box has pictures of the types of toys you’ll get, we have a fairly good idea about what species to expect. But, there’s always the chance you might pull a never-been-seen-before fish.

Melina, wearing orange overalls and large blue latex gloves, grins as she holds up a small skate (type of fish similar to a ray) for a photo. she is in the wet lab. — Holding a small Clearnose Skate (Raja eglanteria), one of my favorite skates that I see often in the Delaware Bay!

For the first few days, it felt like everyone was speaking in code, especially when it came to the names of some of the animals we were catching. I’d never heard the words “Loligo” or “Illex” in my whole life. Eventually, though, I figured out that those terms translated to “squid,” and that’s as far as I’ve gotten.

five small squid laid out at random on an electronic measuring board. they are not yet arranged straight against the measurement line. the largest may be 20 centimeters. — Squid lined up on the fish measuring board.

I’ve put together this brief list of must-know species that we commonly encounter that are frequently mistaken for one another. Maybe by the end of the trip I’ll be able to tell them apart…

Squid: Illex & Loligo

There are quite a few types of squid we could come across during our survey, to include Shortfin (Illex illecebrosus) and Longfin Squid (Doryteuthis pealeii). Illex have shorter triangular fins than the rounded longer fins of a Loligo. The skin of a Loligo will slough off more easily. Coloration also varies between the two squid, with Illex more of an orange-brown and Loligo leaning purple and pink.

scientific illustration of a shortfin squid — Illex are also called Shortfin or Summer Squid (NOAA Fisheries).

scientific illustration of a longfin inshore squid — Loligo are also called Longfin Inshore Squid, Winter Squid, and Boston Squid. They have had multiple scientific names, some of which include the Loligo genus (NOAA Fisheries).

close-up photo of a small squid against a blue background; its triangular fins are extended — An Illex specimen showing off its triangular fins (Photo by Fisheries and Oceans Canada via WoRMS).

close-up view of a pile of small squid on an electronic measuring board - these are only 6 to 8 centimeters — A pile of small Loligo (which we endearingly nickname “small-igo”) on the fish measuring board before processing.

Spot & Atlantic Croaker

You’d think this one would be intuitive for me, considering this Spot (Leiostomus xanthurus) and Croaker (Micropogonias undulatus) are the two of the fish we catch the most during our seining programs at the Nature Center, but unfortunately not. The most helpful tip is that a spot will have, well, a spot!

close-up image of a spot against a white background — Spot have a more slender body and rounded snout (North Carolina Department of Environmental Quality).

close-up photo of an Atlantic croaker against a gray background — Atlantic Croakers have much more heft to them, as well as a slight protruding point to their caudal fin, or tail (Florida Museum photo by Zachary Randall).

However, especially when dozens of them are flopping vigorously and moving on a conveyor belt, that tiny spot can be hard to find. The area on a croaker where the pectoral fin meets the body can also be dark and round (not unlike a spot’s spot…).

Four-Spot, Ocellated, Windowpane, & Summer Flounder

I’ve always been fond of flatfish. They’re such a funky shape (and typically quite delicious as well). At the Nature Center, we had an adorable Summer Flounder named June.

a fish tank. small laminated cards line the top outer edge of the tank - they contain photos and names of the species in the tank. we can see a small flatfish on the front pane of glass, aligned with its tail pointing upward and its face toward the sand. — June the Summer Flounder pressed against the tank vertically.

We’ve come across plenty of flatfish during this cruise. The main ones that I have the most trouble telling apart are the Fourspot (Hippoglossina oblonga), Ocellated (Ancylopsetta quadrocellata), Windowpane (Scophthalmus aquosus), and Summer Flounder (Paralichthys dentatus). All four of these species are left-eyed flatfish, meaning that if you placed the fish with the mouth oriented upwards below the eyes, they would be on the left side of the fish.

scientific illustration of a peacock flounder — A Peacock Flounder (*Bothus lunatus*) is a left-eyed flatfish found in tropical and subtropical areas of the Atlantic Ocean (Animal Diversity Web).

close-up view of a very circular, very stripey flatfish in a white bucket of water. its tail is like a small circle attached to a large one. — We caught a very distinct right-eyed flatfish, the Naked Sole (*Gymnachirus nudus*).

So, the eyed-ness (that’s not a word but you know what I mean) is not gonna help you much with differentiating this quartet of resemblant fish; you’ll have to zoom in and take a closer look at their unique features.

A Fourspot Flounder will have four very distinct eye-like dark spots, called ocelli. They are situated in pairs with one pair closer towards the tail and the other in the middle of the body. Of course, it’s not just the fourspot flounder that will have four spots.

The Ocellated Flounder will also have four large ocelli, but they will be distributed across the body differently. Three of an Ocellated Flounder’s spots will be in a triangle shape towards the right half of the body and the last spot above the pectoral fin.

scientific illustration of a fourspot flounder — Fourspot Flounder (*Hippoglossina oblonga)*
(Illustration by H.L. Todd Illustration, Courtesy University of Washington Libraries via DNREC)

photo of an ocellated flounder against sand; we can see the four large spots — Ocellated Flounder (*Ancylopsetta quadrocellata*) (Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute)

Lastly, the Windowpane and Summer Flounders are going to have smaller spots scattered along their bodies. Windowpane Flounder are named for their thin, near-transparent bodies. They are more rounded than the other similar oval-shaped flounders. Windowpane Flounders have many small dark spots. In contrast, Summer Flounders typically have five larger prominent ocelli towards the tail-end of the body. Summer Flounder can reach up to forty inches, whereas windowpane tend to max out around about half that. Another helpful diagnostic feature is that the dorsal (upper) fin of a Windowpane Flounder will have fringed rays towards the front, almost like little hairs.

close-up photo of a windowpane flounder on a white background — Windowpane Flounder (*Scophthalmus aquosus)*
(Smithsonian Environmental Research Center)

close-up photo of a summer flounder on a white background — Summer Flounder (*Paralichthys dentatus)*
(Smithsonian Environmental Research Center)

Aw, Shucks

I’ve been lucky to have some of the freshest seafood I’ve ever encountered over the past week. The whole mission is an indescribable undertaking, and one of the ways those onboard are rewarded is through being able to eat our catch.

It’s truly a group effort with every team having a hand in the process in some way. The deck crew is pulling up the giant hauls while coordinating with the bridge. The engineers are scurrying around fixing things before anyone even notices they need repairing.

The science team is measuring and processing. The team estimated this tow to be over 3,000 pounds, with the overwhelming majority of the haul Atlantic Sea Scallops (Placopecten magellanicus).

view of a large bin on deck full of hundreds of scallops. toward the back of the bin, a crewmember with a blue hard hat, rain gear, and life vest reaches an arm into bin. we can see a portion of the net in the background. it is nighttime. — The day watch team was rewarded with a very scallop-y tow (Photo Credit: NOAA SST Ben Tuttle).

Throughout my time on the ship I’ve learned not only a lot of technical science, but also picked up some skills I never knew I’d learn onboard. If you need someone to shuck about a hundred scallops with minimal precision but a lot of enthusiasm, I’m your girl. I’m also not afraid to get my hands dirty (or rather, inky) and prep dozens of Loligo for some fresh calamari.

baskets of scallops — A couple baskets of fresh scallops set aside from the big scallop tow.

buckets of shucked scallops on a sorting table near a measuring board — Shucked scallops being rinsed and bagged.

close-up view of a bowl of scallop pasta — The final product: a fabulous pasta with seared scallops.

We shucked enough scallops to fill a couple plastic bags and handed them off to the galley crew, who whipped up a delicious scallop pasta for lunch the next day.

Personal Log: The Pros and Cons of Night Watch

Pro: Talk about a golden hour!! You’re rewarded halfway through your shift with a sunrise view unlike any you can see on land. The flying bridge gives breathtaking views from all directions.

view of sunrise over the ocean, seen from an outside deck and also through the bridge windows — Looking through the bridge windows from the deck outside.

a tower with satellite instruments, painted red, stands out in the light of the sunrise — A glamour shot of some of the ship’s external instruments.

Cons: My meals are all outta wack! I’m truly a creature of habit–on land I alternate pretty consistently through my go-to breakfast foods of apple cinnamon oatmeal or Lucky Charms. However, when your breakfast is at 11 p.m., what’s the move? Should I be eating the meal the Steward Department saved for me from a few hours before while I was fast asleep, or do I adhere to strict traditional breakfast foods?

Did You Know?

Did you know that some people can’t visualize anything in their mind? It’s estimated that about 1% of people experience a lack of visual imagery, also called aphantasia. Unfortunately for me and my species identification abilities, I fall into this 1%. On the other hand, many of my science team members can mentally call up an image of a fish with such precise colors and details that they basically turn into a walking field guide.