I spent my last hour aboard NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson very much the same as I did when I started: On the bridge watching the the NOAA Corp Officers maneuver the ship around the pier.
NOAA corp officers working together to dock the ship
As my time aboard the NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson comes to an end, I find myself looking out over the Great Lakes one last time, reflecting on an incredible two weeks at sea. I’ve enjoyed so much of what I’ve experienced and I’ve learned even more. Over the past two weeks, I have had the privilege of stepping into the daily workflows of many of the departments that keep this floating laboratory operational.
In hydrographic surveying and science, I learned about the how the survey team operates the multibeam and side-scan SONAR, tracks lakebed topography, deploys the Moving Vessel Profiler (MVP) to measure sound speed through water columns, and processes bathymetry data to identify navigational hazards. Up on the bridge and aboard survey launches, I observed the seamless coordination of the NOAA Corps officers as they safely navigated tight survey grids and executed precision small boat operations. Down in the engine room and ship’s workshop, I saw firsthand how engineers and oilers maintain complex mechanical systems, monitor power generation, and custom-fabricate hardware to support the ship’s operations. Meanwhile in the galley, I learned what it takes for the steward department to feed the entire crew.
Above all, I experienced a culture of trust where every voice matters. Everyone continuously strives to do better, whether mastering ship and small boat handling or expanding their scientific knowledge.
Personal Log
With the start of the school year starting tomorrow, my excitement is shifting from the open water back to my physics classroom. I cannot wait to meet my new students and introduce them to everything I’ve learned during this journey.
So much of what happens aboard NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson is physics in action—from sound propagation in water and wave mechanics to vector navigation, data processing, and engineering design. Being able to bring real-world NOAA data, live video clips, and genuine stories of STEM careers into our lessons will give our coursework a direct line to the real world.
More than the technical concepts, I am eager to model the collaborative, trust-based environment I witnessed onboard. I want my students to see that asking questions, checking each other’s work, and learning from mistakes aren’t just classroom goals—they are the exact habits practiced daily by professional scientists and mariners at sea.
This expedition through the NOAA Teacher at Sea Program has been an unforgettable experience. To the officers, survey technicians, engineers, and crew of the NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson: thank you for welcoming me into your community, answering my endless questions, and showing me what true teamwork looks like.
The sunset on my last evening aboard NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson
Did You Know?
Late one night during our mission, I stayed awake to witness a near-total lunar eclipse—when the Earth moves directly between the Sun and the Moon. From my vantage point, as well as back home, the eclipse reached about 96% coverage. For nearly two hours leading up to peak coverage, we found ourselves dodging the only rain cloud in the sky, though I still managed to capture photos at the start and just after maximum coverage.
At the very beginning of the lunar eclipse at about 10:30 p.m.
Mission: Shark/Red Snapper Bottom Longline Survey, Leg 1
Geographic Area of Cruise: Western North Atlantic Ocean
Date: August 19, 2026
Late afternoon on August 11, 2026, my last night aboard Oregon II.
On August 12, 2026, I disembarked from Oregon II and set foot on land for the first time in 17 days in Charleston, South Carolina. Gradually, the team we had formed for the first leg of the survey began to break up as people went their separate ways. Some would be embarking again in three days’ time for the second leg of the survey. Some were taking their vacations or heading back to work on land but would return for legs three or four. Others, like me, were only part of this one journey from Pascagoula to Charleston.
Arthur Ravenel Jr. BridgePhoto credit: Gretchen ArndtArriving at port in Charleston, SC
It is certainly a strange experience to work so intensely with a group of people – even living and eating meals together – and know that the same team will never come together again exactly as it is. Those of us who wouldn’t return were making way for new people to arrive and gain their own experience. (There is even another Teacher at Sea expected later in the survey!) This is also something we have to accustom ourselves to in education. For a year, we build a sort of family in a classroom, with our own rituals, inside jokes, and memories. Then we ultimately have to say good-bye so that everyone can move on and keep growing somewhere else. As a teacher, I want to make sure that what students experience in my class helps them to contribute the best of themselves to every new team they join.
This week I am returning to school to get ready for the new academic year. I am reflecting on what I learned from my work and life aboard Oregon II and how I can bring that to bear on my teaching and collaboration with colleagues this year. Of course there are many lessons about science and maritime careers. But there are also lessons about resilience, curiosity, and being willing to take risks. I enjoyed so much support from my family, friends, and colleagues at home. My entire district was cheering me on and colleagues told me how brave they thought I was for trying this. Yet it is this very support that allowed me to feel brave enough to go for this opportunity and follow through with it. Having a foundation of trust and support makes people more willing to take on new challenges. We can risk failure because we know somebody will be proud of us just for trying. This is the kind of culture that needs to be built in a classroom. As I decorate my classroom and write lessons, I am thinking of how I can both challenge and support my students this coming year.
That being said, I am also super excited to show my students pictures of sharks, sharks, and more sharks! It occurred to me how very few people have been able to touch, tag and hold sharks like I did. My students are going to be so excited and they will have so many questions for me. Besides sharks, I want to show them pictures of scientists working outside with tools that are like what they might find in a toolbox at home or what their parents might use at work. I want to show them strong scientists holding shark heads and tails to keep their colleagues safe while they measure and tag an animal. I want them to know that some of the scientists I met didn’t always have the easiest time at school, but they still went on to learn, achieve, and snag one of the coolest jobs in the world. I’m also eager to show them pictures of some of the cool machinery aboard ship and allow them to imagine what skills they might need to be an engineer or steward. A boat is like a floating city and it requires many talents to keep it safe and moving forward.
I’m looking forward to sharing what I’ve learned with other educators. (I’ve already had other teachers ask me about they can become NOAA Teacher at Sea!) In our first meetings back at my school, we discussed our main objectives for the year, one of which is to strengthen students’ writing in science class. Being a Teacher at Sea gave me a lot of first-hand experience with how difficult it can be to express scientific concepts clearly and how important it is to be precise. Yet the processes of recording, writing, and drawing can actually help us solidify new learning. Next week my students will be putting together their science notebooks in which they will record all their observations during classroom experiments. We will discuss the importance of taking precise measurements and recording them carefully with the correct units. (After being the data recorder while a team of scientists holds down a thrashing shark to measure it in millimeters, I feel like I have some insights to share.) I can’t wait to see those notebooks fill up with all of their learning and — most important — new questions to investigate.
If you have been following along on my journey, I want to take a moment to thank you. At times, it was a real challenge to sit down and write but then I would think about everyone who told me they enjoyed reading my blog or looking at my pictures. Knowing I had people excited to read about what we were up to on Oregon II or to learn something new about the ocean motivated me. It’s been such a pleasure to share this with you.
“Inside every good scientist is a curious kid. ” —Ms. Frizzle
Ms. Frizzle takes her class to the Ocean. Illustration by Bruce Degan via Scholastic Inc.
Personal Log
I am home. The floors have stopped swaying, my seabag is unpacked and the fish scales are washed from my boots. I have had time to rest and reflect. Looking over my endless photographs of indescribable landscapes, fascinating animal life and the hardworking but always enthusiastic crew, it would be easy to be wistful, sad that the journey all went by in the blink of an eye. But the thing is, it’s not over. The journey was never just about me, I was assigned this adventure to be the eyes and ears of my students.
I love the Magic School Bus series. For some, it’s unclear whether Ms. Fizzle’s class actually goes to all those incredible places or if their trips have only been imagined. But I know Ms. Frizzle’s secret, she is an extraordinary teacher. Her lessons are so engaging, so powerful, that her class feels transported to those unbelievable locations making lessons real, relatable and meaningful. And that is NOAA’s charge for their Teachers At Sea.
The NOAA Teacher at Sea program provides the adventures, we the teachers, go home to take our students back to these magical places and exciting experiences. It’s no small task, but one I take on with great seriousness and excitement. I want my students to feel the wind and fog blowing in across Dutch Harbor. I want them to puzzle over colorful echograms searching for fish. I want them to measure, weigh and record pollock and jellyfish splashed across the culling board. I want them to envision themselves as NOAA officers, or engineers, or scientists. But most of all, I want them to care deeply about the health and well-being of the world’s oceans. So I am frantically writing lessons, building hands-on activities and creating project based STEM challenges in hope that my students will feel like they too have been to the Bering Sea on the Summer Pollock Acoustic Survey. May the Frizzle be with us.
Looking back from the fly-bridge on the Bering Sea.
Mission: SEAMAP Summer Groundfish Survey Geographic Area of Cruise: Gulf of America/Gulf of Mexico Date: July 18, 2026
Science and Technology Log
Are you curious about the final number of marine taxa (types) that we caught on Leg 3 of the SEAMAP Groundfish Survey?
We caught more than even the scientists onboard predicted we would! However, before I tell you the final count, I want to explain a little bit about the process of sorting and identifying the different types of marine life counted during the survey.
Not everything that came up in the net was counted as part of the survey. Trash, empty shells, sea grass, and organisms small enough to pass through the holes in the net were not included. We first sorted everything into similar groups and then separated those groups further when needed. For marine life that looked very similar or was difficult to identify, the scientists would double-check each other’s work to make sure everything was sorted correctly. Remember, this survey was not just about fish but included all kinds of marine life living on the ocean floor.
Looking at these pictures, can you tell the difference between some of these organisms?
Four different types of flatfish, most commonly known as Flounder, all caught in the same haul
Two different types of scallops
Sometimes it was easy to tell the difference and other times it was very difficult. The scientists had to not only know the differences but also the scientific (Latin) names for hundreds of different marine taxa. Occasionally, we would catch something that was not common during the groundfish survey. When this happened the scientists would consult identification guides or databases to help identify what we had caught.
Over the past two weeks, I have learned so much and encountered many new names and words. Not only have I learned the common names of the marine life we encountered, but I have also learned their scientific names. I’m not sure how many of those names will stay in my long-term memory since I may never encounter some of these organisms again. I do know I have learned more than I ever expected.
I was able to identify a lionfish on someone’s shirt! Before this trip, I never would have recognized it.
The total count of different marine taxa (types) that we counted was…
350!
That’s 350 different marine taxa that we identified during Leg 3 of the survey. Then, every individual within those taxa had to be counted, with many also being measured and weighed. It was incredible to see the diversity of life living on the ocean floor.
Watch this slideshow to see video to see some of the amazing marine life we encountered.
Marine Life of the Groundfish Survey
Did you see any marine life that looked familiar? I did! I was surprised to learn that there are catfish in the sea! They are a different type than the catfish we have in the rivers back home in Kansas, but they look very similar.
Personal Log
Before leaving for this trip, I wanted to get a picture of the sunset every night. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen! At first, I did not realize the sun set around 8:00 p.m. in the Gulf instead of closer to 9:00 p.m. like back home in Kansas. By the time I figured that out, I had already missed a few beautiful sunsets. Thankfully, I was still able to capture several beautiful sunsets before the end of the trip.
They say that if you are lucky, you might see a ‘green flash’ just as the sun disappears below the horizon because green is the last color visible before the sun is gone. I watched every chance I got, but I was not lucky enough to see one.
As I head back to Kansas, I just want to say thank you to everyone who made this experience possible. Thank you to the NOAA Teacher at Sea team, the crew of Oregon II, the science team, and everyone who followed along on my adventure.
It is still hard to believe that this was my life for the past two weeks. The entire Oregon II crew was incredibly welcoming and made the ship feel like a home away from home.
Part of the science team aboard NOAA ship Oregon II
To the science team, thank you for making room for a Teacher at Sea and for answering my thousand-and-one questions. You are an incredible group of people, and the research you do to help monitor the health of the Gulf is so important. A special thank you to Scientist Dereke for being willing to pick up the ‘spicy’ fish so I could take pictures, and to Mo, the college student, for learning alongside me and teaching me about marine biology.
Dorothy said in The Wizard of Oz, “there is no place like home.” While I am happy to be back in Kansas and preparing for my next adventure at a new school, I know I will miss the people I met aboard Oregon II. It truly became a home away from home.
Artist Highlight
Meet artist Sean Gronquist, a member of the NOAA crew. Sean uses the Japanese art of fish printing called Gyotaku. Gyo means fish and taku means rubbing. This traditional art form began as a way for fishermen to record their catches before photography and is still practiced today. https://ocean.si.edu/conservation/get-involved/educational-uses-gyotaku-or-fish-printing
Sean Gronquist displays a fish print of a dolphinfish
Activity Corner
Choose an ocean animal that interests you and do a little research. Where does it live? What adaptations help it survive? What role does it play in its ecosystem?
The science team shared some of their favorite ocean-themed books for readers of all ages. Whether you are just beginning to learn about marine life or you are looking for your next great read, I hope you find one that inspires you to learn more about our oceans.
Lower Elementary
The Pout-Pout Fish by Deborah Diesen
The Cod’s Tale by Mark Kurlansky
Upper Elementary and Up
The Octopus Scientists: Exploring the Mind of a Mollusk by Sy Montgomery
Why Fish Fart: Gross but True Things You’ll Wish You Didn’t Know by Francesca Gould
Middle School and up
Octopus: The Ocean’s Intelligent Invertebrate by Jennifer A. Mather
The Soul of an Octopus by Sy Montgomery
Nonfiction High School and up
What a Fish Knows by Jonathan Balcombe
Emperors of the Deep by William McKeever
Longitude by Dava Sobel
So Excellent a Fishe by Archie Carr
A Shadow and a Song by Mark Jerome Walters
Fiction High School and up
Andy Weir: The Martian or Project Hail Mary
Merfolk by Jeremy Bates
Nonfiction Adult
Cod: A Biography of the Fish That Changed the World by Mark Kurlansky
The Reef: A Passionate History by Iain McCalman
The Brilliant Abyss by Helen Scales
Other Minds by Peter Godfrey-Smith
Rachel Carson’ ‘s The Sea Around Us or Silent Spring
Adult Fiction Books
The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman
The Mountain in the Sea by Ray Nayler
Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt
Did You Know?
Oregon II will welcome another NOAA Teacher at Sea at the end of July for Longline Survey. It will be a different science team, but I hear they will be catching lots of sharks and snappers! Follow the NOAA Teacher at Sea Blog to continue the adventure.
Geographic Area of Cruise: North Atlantic Ocean, Slope Sea
Date: July 24, 2025
Conclusion Log
On my first day sailing aboard NOAA Ship Pisces, I stood on the treadmill with my head held high. “I got this,” I told myself while setting my usual running metrics.
The treadmill was bolted down on the lower deck. Tucked among the engine systems.
It smelled like metal and salt. The air felt like a humid Texas summer: warm and dense.
“You’ve been training these past few months,” I reminded myself. “This will just be another run.” A few seconds in, I stumbled. Hard. The treadmill hadn’t budged… but I sure did! I’d swerved off and landed (thankfully feet first) on the floor.
Fast forward to my final days at sea: I’d completed consecutive 5K runs on that same treadmill. Boy… it wasn’t easy. But neither were the science mission nor my time at sea, and that’s where the reflection begins.
Just completed a run.
Celebrated the achievement.
Stretched and cool off on the flying deck.
I’ve been thinking about how much my time at sea mirrored my time on the treadmill. Here are five takeaways from running at sea; and what they taught me about science and teaching.
Accept help. You’re also a learner.
Next to the treadmill was a fan. During my runs, engineer crew members would pass by on their rounds and turn it on. They checked in (made sure I was cooling off) and reminded me I wasn’t doing this alone.
When I began the Teacher at Sea program, I had no experience with NOAA fisheries research or oceanography. I’d never lived on a ship. Let alone been out in deep water.
Every part of the mission, from scientific terminology to ship protocol and living, was unfamiliar.
Although, I wasn’t expected to know it all, my science team was patient. Like any great teacher, they scaffolded the learning: they explained terms, modeled procedures, and gradually released responsibility until I could confidently take on the tasks myself. To be among top scientists in their field. To feel welcomed, supported, and taught… was humbling.
All crew members aboard Pisces didn’t just show me the ropes. They reminded me that learning never stops.
I was a student again and that was a powerful place to be.
Begin steadily, avoid burnout.
There were moments, especially early on, when I wanted to try and do everything, even after my 12-hour shifts. I went from 0-100 fast, thinking that was the way to show commitment. A few days in, I was hit hard by exhaustion.
The same lesson applied to my runs. I’d start too fast and burn out too early.
Eventually, I learned to pace myself, both on and off the treadmill. I set boundaries, made time for rest, and remembered that sustainability matters more than speed.
I learned that I could be more helpful, more present, and more productive when I prioritized well-being.
Stay flexible.Conditions will change.
Shout-out to Emily Susko (program coordinator) for helping making this experience possible before, during, and even after the sail. Her patience reminded me that plans shift, even with the best preparation.
As a teacher, I know this well: you can write the perfect lesson plan, but students and life will take it in different directions.
The same applies at sea. From unpredictable weather to equipment delays, we had to adapt constantly.
Not everything was in our control but our responses and mindsets were. Flexibility didn’t mean lowering expectations. It meant adjusting our mindset and staying ready for the unexpected.
Even on the treadmill. It was calm and cool on some days but rocky and shaky on others. Eventually, I adapted, adjusted my balance, and kept going.
Stay grounded in your “Why.”
Our mission was to survey larval bluefin tuna. Some stations yielded many while others, none. But each time mattered.
We weren’t focused on isolated results but were focused on contributing to the larger scientific picture.
There were lonely moments at sea. I missed land, my family, and friends. But I reminded myself why I was there: my students back home. This “why” connected my work at sea with my work in the classroom, and kept me grounded.
Whether I was preserving fish samples or logging data at 2 AM, I knew I was part of something bigger that would outlast the sail itself.
Remain curious and humble.
One of the most memorable moments came after a shift. It was a quiet night. The storm had calmed, winds had slowed down, and Pisces‘s lights had dimmed. I walked out to the back deck alone.
Nothing surrounded me but ocean. I looked up and saw the Milky Way. Lots of stars above while I was surrounded by nothing but the ocean. I paused, stunned by the beauty. My mind loaded with curiosity and with many questions.
That moment was a reminder that there’s so much I don’t know. So much to still wonder about. And that wonder is a gift I’ll bring back to my students.
I will come home with the renewed motivation to bring the ocean back to my school community, not just through facts, but through curiosity. I want students to look at the world, land, sea, or sky, and feel and then share that same awe.
I’m grateful to NOAA’s Teacher at Sea Program for reminding me that learning is lifelong, and that the unknown is not something to fear… but to explore.
As educators, we wear many hats: teacher, learner, mentor, student. At sea, I was all of them. For that, I thank all crew members aboard who made this mission possible:
Of course… I can’t forget the science crew:
Chief Scientist Dave Richardson
Allison Black
Chrissy Hernández
Autumn Moya
Amanda Jacobsen
Kristen Walter
Elisabeth (Betsy) Broughton
Sarah Glancy
The science crew aboard NOAA Ship Pisces for the larval bluefin tuna mission.
Science crew: I’ll carry everything I’ve felt, seen, heard, and learned from y’all with me into every lesson I teach.
Until next time, everyone…
thank you for following my sea journey!
If you’re an educator interested in this opportunity, I highly encourage you to apply for the 2026 sail season.
