NOAA Teacher at Sea Jennifer Petro Aboard NOAA ship Pisces July 1 – July 14, 2013
Mission: Marine Protected Area Survey Geographic Area of Cruise: South Atlantic United States Date: July 1, 2013
Weather Data: Air temperature: 28 Degrees C (82 Degrees F)
Barometer: 1013.1 mb
Humidity: 74%
Wind direction: SW
Wind speed: 11.29 knots
Water temp: 29.6 C
Latitude: 30.39°N
Longitude: 81.43°W
Science and Technology Log
Hello from aboard NOAA ship Pisces. We are gearing up to set sail so I will take this opportunity to introduce myself before we get underway! My name is Jennifer Petro and I am an 8th grade Science Teacher at Everitt Middle School in Panama City , Florida. I am particularly excited about this mission as I am working alongside scientists from the NOAA Southeast Fisheries Science Lab located on Panama City Beach. I will also be working with scientist from Harbor Branch Oceanographic Institute as well as Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute. The focus of this mission is to survey fish and invertebrate populations in Marine Protected Areas (MPAs) from Florida to North Carolina. We will also be doing mapping of new areas to determine future MPAs.
The scientist have been busy setting up and calibrating their equipment. We will be using an ROV, Remotely Operated (underwater) Vehicle, to view the MPAs. There are several cameras attached to the ROV which the scientist will use to identify and count species. There are many feet of wire and cables being set up in the dry lab.
NOAA Scientists Stacey Harter and Stephanie Farrington setting up equipment for ROV dives during our Marine Protected Area surveys.
Personal Log
Currently we are still at port and are scheduled to set sail in a few hours. The Pisces is a rather comfortable vessel. We arrived yesterday afternoon so I already have one night’s sleep on board under my belt. I imagine things will change when we are out at sea, but for the moment she is gently swaying in port. I share a room with one of the scientists and we in turn share a bathroom. Pretty great so far! The Pisces is currently moored at NAS in Mayport , FL and is dwarfed in size to all of the naval vessels that surround her!
NOAA Ship PiscesNOAA ship Pisces
Today’s post is going to be rather short. My excitement is definitely building. we set sail in just about an hour so my next post will be from sea!
The Pisces is on its way to port, having had to suspend operations in wake of the bad weather that has since become Tropical Storm Andrea. We were supposed to go into Mayport Naval Base, right outside of Jacksonville, FL, but due to the storm we have been redirected to Port Canaveral.
It’s been pretty rough out there! (Picture courtesy Ariane Frappier)
Despite all of this, we made the best of a bad situation. Even though we couldn’t do fishing or camera drops yesterday, we did still manage to get some data. We spent as much time as we could mapping the seafloor before we had to dodge the storm, and we took the time in the morning to do an XBT, an Expendable Bathythermograph.
You can use an XBT to get a temperature and depth reading for the water without having to actually stop the ship. A tube with a probe on it is attached to a launcher and is fired into the water. The probe has copper wire attached to it to send the data back to the ship.
So…you drop the probe, you get the readings, and at least you get some data even if you can’t stop the ship to send more delicate equipment down.
Launching probe…
Other than that, the past couple of days have been all about cleanup and dodging the storm. To a certain extent that makes the scientific posts a little quieter than usual, but it’s been a very interesting experience watching everyone work together to make sure that the scientists could get as much work done as possible without endangering the ship or its crew.
We didn’t get to do everything that we wanted to do on this leg of the trip, unfortunately. But we still got a lot accomplished, and I feel like it was just as interesting to see how everyone was able to react to the weather and still get their job done.
Personal Log
Whew! I didn’t imagine when I got on the Pisces in Tampa that I’d spend the last bit of the trip dodging the first named Tropical Storm of the Atlantic hurricane season. But I definitely have a greater appreciation that, with science as in all things, sometimes life does not go quite to plan.
If all goes to schedule, I will be leaving the Pisces tonight, for our detour into Port Canaveral. We had to stop working a day early, and we’ll end up arriving a day early and into a different port. My last day has mostly been spent trying to rearrange for my travel home from a new city and with assisting the science crew in cleaning up the lab spaces.
All data collection requires a certain amount of flexibility. I knew that already – social science data is notoriously difficult to collect – but the problems that I face in my work are quite different from these. When international relations scholars have trouble with data, it’s usually because of things like difficulties in getting governments and/or people to tell the truth, etc. But sometimes, as now, it’s because conditions make it unsafe to collect the data. We can’t send people into shooting wars to count casualties, and we can’t send scientists into a hurricane to count fish.
Science is a method, not a subject, and the scientific method is one wherein we all simply do our best with what we have. Science has been so profoundly influential because of the simple power of this process, testing over and over what we think to be true, so that we can learn if we are wrong. It’s true if you study fish, if you study policy, or if you study anything in between.
There are many things we’ve discovered about our oceans, and the fish and other creatures that inhabit them. But there are still many more things to learn. I’m glad that we have scientists like the ones I met on the Pisces out looking for our fish, and glad that NOAA, in conjunction with states and other government agencies like the Coast Guard, are looking out for our oceans.
My thanks go out to the entire crew of the Pisces, and the great people at the Teacher at Sea program, for letting me be a part of the process.
NOAA Teacher at Sea Elizabeth Nyman Aboard NOAA Ship Pisces May 28 – June 7, 2013
Mission: SEAMAP Reef Fish Survey Geographical Area of Cruise: Gulf of Mexico Date: May 28, 2013
Weather Data: Surface Water Temperature: 23.84 degrees Celsius
Air Temperature: 23.90 degrees Celsius
Barometric Pressure: 1017.8 mb
Science and Technology Log
So I’ve known for about two months or so that I was going to be taking part in one leg of an ongoing reef fishery survey. I even had an idea that it involved surveying fish that lived on reefs. But after our first full day at sea, and many hours of helping take part in the scientific work, I now begin to understand how exactly one surveys reef fish.
There’s a couple of different things that the scientific crew is doing to observe and understand the reef fish population. First, there is an ongoing video recording process throughout the day, from just after sunrise to just before sunset. For this, the ship and scientific crew lower a large, 600 pound camera array off of the starboard side of the ship. The cameras will go and sit on the sea floor and record all the fish that pass in front of it, for a total recording time of 25 minutes. After this time has passed, plus a little extra time, the cameras are pulled back up, the recordings are downloaded, we move to a different spot and the process begins again.
Hauling the camera array back on deck. I said it was big, didn’t I?
The video is reviewed the next day. Since this is our first day at sea, I didn’t get much of a chance to see any reef fishery footage, though I’m told that’s on the agenda for tomorrow. What I spent most of my time doing was helping out with another part of the survey process, something called the bandit reels. They’re used for good old-fashioned hook and line fishing.
It looks like a nice day to go fishing, huh?
There are three bandit reels on the Pisces, and each one can hold 10 fishing hooks. Each reel has different sized hooks, and the hook sizes are changed every drop. The line has a weight at the bottom to bring the hooks down to the sea floor, which have been baited with mackerel bits. After five minutes, the line is reeled back in, and you have fish…or you don’t.
My first drop, which had the biggest hooks, had a whole bunch of nothing. As did everyone else’s, though, so it wasn’t a testament to my poor fishing skills.
The second drop, however, was luckier.
I caught a moray eel!
A spotted moray eel! I was excited, anyway. But morays aren’t one of the fish that we’re looking for out here, so it wasn’t a particularly useful catch.
Our third drop was the most successful. Our bandit reel hauled in seven fish, one of whom got away (the biggest one, of course, one the size of a killer whale…yeah, just kidding!). The other six were brought into the wet lab, where they joined the other fish caught on that drop and would be measured and dissected.
We caught a big one!
The fish are measured three different ways. The first, by total length, examines exactly that, the total length of the fish from the nose all the way to the tip of the tail. The second measure goes from the nose to the fork in the tail, so it’s a shorter distance. The third, standard length, goes from the nose to just before the tail fin, where the fish’s vertebrae end, and is the shortest of all. They’re also weighed at this time as well.
After that, we start cutting into the fish. Two things are of interest here: the ear bone and the sex organs. The ear bones are removed from each fish, because they can be tested to determine the age of the fish. The sex organs will reveal gender, obviously, but also are examined to see how fertile each specimen is. We don’t do this kind of analysis on the ship, however. The ear bones and sex organs are sent back to the NOAA lab in Panama City, Florida, where they will conduct all those tests.
Personal Log
The best part of my first day at sea was definitely the ship safety drills.
Wait, what?
No, seriously. The absolute highlight of this one was my chance to try on what’s known as the Gumby suit. The Gumby suit is a nickname for a immersion survival suit – if we have to abandon ship and float around in the water, the suit will protect us from the elements. Now, we’re down here in the Gulf of Mexico, so that seems a little crazy, but think about how you’d feel if you were stuck in the water for hours on end. In really cold waters, that suit may be the difference between life and death.
The drills are important, and they’re mandated for a reason. In an emergency, all of this stuff can save lives.
Why do I like the drills so much? We’re required to have safety drills by law, and so as someone who studies and teaches international law, I always enjoy taking part in these things. It’s a chance to see the stuff in action that I talk about in class. And that’s kind of what this program is all about – the chance to experience things firsthand as opposed to just having to read about them.
I guess you kind of have to take my word for it, but that’s me in there.
Did You Know?
You’re supposed to be able to put on a Gumby suit in under a minute. They wouldn’t do much good if they took too long to put on.
NOAA Teacher at Sea Bill Lindquist Aboard NOAA Ship Rainier May 6-16, 2013
Mission: Hydrographic surveys between Ketchikan and Petersburg, Alaska Date: May 19, 2013
Weather at port. Taken at 1600 (4:00 in the afternoon)
Latitude: 56.8044° N
Longitude: 132.9419° W
Overcast skies with intermittent rain
Wind from the SW at 6 knots
Air temperature 7.2° C
Log: Petersburg: Completing the journey
No Teacher at Sea journey would be complete without immersing oneself in the people whose lives are dependent on that sea. Such an opportunity presented itself as we made port at Petersburg, the town that was “built on fish” (Little Norway Festival Pageant). We pulled into Petersburg during the annual “Little Norway” cultural festival held over Syttende Mai weekend celebrating the signing of Norway’s constitution. Since 1958, Petersburg has celebrated this powerful conjunction of Norwegian heritage and the vital role of fish and the fishing industry.
Alaska’s Little NorwayThe Little Norway Pageant
The Little Norway Pageant
Like many small towns, the Little Norway festival gathers the community together for a parade, softball tournament, dunk stand, food booths, walk/run, and pancake breakfast. Unlike other towns, Little Norway is graced with music from the Pickled Herring Band, a herring toss (think water balloon toss with fish), fish barbecue, and wandering Vikings willing to raid any party along their way. The closing song at the festival pageant seems to capture the spirit of Petersburg.
The Pickled Herring BandThe Little Norway parade included VikingsHumpback salmon emblazoned into the sidewalk
I Love Humpback Salmon
I love humpback salmon Good ol’ humpback salmon Caught by the Norkse fisherman,
I like shrimp and shellfish They sure do make a swell dish I think the halibut is grand!
I don’t like T-bone steak Cut from a steer in Texas But give me fish! And I don’t give a damn If I do pay taxes!
I love humpback salmon Good ol’ humpback salmon Caught by the Norke fisherman!
Today’s Petersburg brings together the native Alaskan traditions with the heavy Norwegian influence. A pair of towering totem poles on one end of town capture the history and contributions of the Tlingit hunters and fishermen that roamed these parts since over 2000 years ago. Coming into Petersburg we encountered several icebergs calved from the nearby LeConte Glacier. It was the presence of this clean source of ice that led the Norwegian Pioneer, Peter Buschmann to recognize the potential for the use of this ready supply of ice to pack fish and in 1897 started the Icy Strait Packing Company. He went on to add a sawmill and dock, and the town of Petersburg was launched. By 1920, Petersburg had become a town of 600 people and growing – majority of which shared Peter’s Scandinavian descent.
A strong presence of fisheriesEveryone fishes
Fishing is and has always been a constant presence throughout Petersburg’s history. At one end of town lies the Fisherman’s Memorial Park committed to the memory of those lives “that have been lost at sea and/or spent much of their lives working directly in the fishing industry” (Plaque at the base of the statue of the fisherman). On the other end is Eagle’s Roost Park highlighting the “outlook point for wives awaiting their husbands return from fishing” (plaque at Eagle’s Roost Park). Centered within are the present day canneries and businesses that keep this unique community vital. A plaque honoring a Petersburg pioneer states, “When he taught us to fish; he taught us to appreciate the rewards of patience. When he taught us to row; he taught us the power of perseverance and hard work.” Seems these words have served this community well.
The memorial of the fisherman
One gets a picture of the culture of a place by strolling through its shops. Unlike Ketchikan with its cruise line stocked gift shops, the merchants of Petersburg carve their own personal niches into the culture of the community. I have always enjoyed strolling through hardware and grocery stores. They serve as reflections of the life and values of the surrounding community. The Petersburg True Value hardware store shelves are stocked with the necessities of life for this fishing community. Along with nails, screws, and Weber grills you might find in any hardware store, here are rows and rows of waterproof gloves, bib overalls, jackets, flotation gear, rope of all kinds, snaps, and chains that are needed for the boats on their fishing journeys at sea. Along with the groceries one might expect, the Petersburg IGA stocks supplies of hardy Carhartt mariner clothing, washing machines, recliners, and iPhones. Each gift shop in town is unique, serving as markets for locally crafted goods by area artisans. There isn’t a place in Petersburg for the nondescript big box retailers of larger cities. These merchants stock all the supplies necessary to keep the pulse of the lifeblood of this community going. In so doing, they keep alive what makes this community unique. Not unlike the life I experienced on board the Rainier, Petersburg is an island community that has learned to rely on itself for the safety and well-being of all its members.
The festival comes to a conclusion with the annual fish barbecue held at Sandy Beach park. The event centers on all the grilled salmon, black cod and rockfish you can eat – hot off the wood fired barbecue pit. To a Minnesotan so far from the sea, this much seafood all in one spot grilled to perfection was truly a great way to being to a close my time in Petersburg.
The fish barbecue
Fish on the grill
Rainier crew enjoying a fish dinner
Tomorrow I fly out on what I was told was the milk run, leaving Petersburg for a 34 mile flight to Wrangell, then 83 miles to Ketchikan, on to Seattle, then finally home to Minneapolis/Saint Paul. I leave behind the life and work of the Rainier, the majestic views of the Alaskan landscape, and a glimpse into the quaint Norwegian community that was built on fish. I take with me the memories and stories of my little slice of life at sea, and all insight gained from the deep cognitive stretching obtained at the hands of the mariners, survey technicians, and NOAA Corps on board the Rainier. A special thank you to NOAA and the members of the Rainier community for making this powerful Teacher at Sea adventure possible.
Addendum: Monday, May 20
I met Rob Thomason, the Petersburg school superintendent, at the fish barbecue and was invited to the school for a tour and visit. This morning I took him up on his invitation and was treated to a two-hour tour of Stedman Elementary, Mitkof Middle, and Petersburg High School. The Petersburg schools’ match the charm and close knit community atmosphere of the town itself. During that time I was witness to many of the things that make this school special. Earlier that morning, a high school class had boarded a boat for a trip to a nearby glacier to conduct field studies. Between the schools was a boat the high school shop class had manufactured. Students in an elementary class were making fish prints – painting a fish and pressing a white t-shirt onto its surface. I naively made the comment, “That looks like a real fish.” He smiled and nodded. In the back schoolyard was the construction of a new greenhouse for the schoolyard gardens. We stopped in a culinary arts class and were treated to a plate of freshly made sushi rolls. Both buses are parked in a single garage. Class sizes are in the upper teens/lower 20s. Everywhere I looked, students were engaged in their learning. The taxi driver bringing me to the airport had just picked his kids up at the school. Without hesitation, he shared his opinion that the Petersburg schools were the best in the country. With district NCLB passing rates in the high 80s, perhaps Petersburg Public Schools are on to something – low class sizes, authentic learning experiences, strong community support, stable faculty and staff, and a positive, nurturing learning environment committed to all students. Thanks for the visit.
The Petersburg bus garage. One bus goes north, one south
NOAA Teacher At Sea
Robert Ulmer
(Not yet aboard) NOAA Ship Rainier
At sea from June 16 to July 3, 2013
(Still home in Gainesville, Florida, N 29 42 30, W 82 22 48)
Mission:Hydrographic survey Geographical area of cruise: Along the coast of Alaska, from Juneau to Kodiak Log date: May 12, 2013
Personal Log
For as long as I can remember, I have loved maps. A good map is an invitation to explore, to let the mind wander in distant lands, among unfamiliar environs, and into new challenges, but always with the advice of the explorers who walked there earlier. Imagine being the first person to cross a dense bit of jungle or a vast glacier, to find an underground passageway of ancient caves, or to walk on the surface of some planet. Certainly, you or other people might have created speculative pictures in your head before your journey, hypotheses about what you might find. But those hypotheses must be tested, verified, investigated. The explorer bravely takes the advice of others, the creative ideas that grow from his own previous experiences and imaginings, and whatever other tools fit into his kit, and he walks forward.
That is what we humans are. Explorers.
Checking the trail map and USGS marker on Pine Mountain
Even young children are scientists. Starting from very little background knowledge, they do that most human of activities: They wonder. Uninhibited by the social structures of the adult world, they spend nearly all of their waking moments drawing new maps in their heads. Maps of the paths of beetles crossing the yard, maps of the grocery store aisles, maps of best hiding places on the playground or in the house… but not only geographic maps. They also “draw maps” of how to talk Mom into an extra snack, how to fill the bathtub with bubbly water, and how to put on a shirt.
Two routes from Amelia Island to Big Talbot Island
When Euclid wrote Book 1 of his Elements, he laid down a road map of proofs so that others could confidently follow him to the Pythagorean Theorem. When Leonardo da Vinci and the Wright Brothers made drawings of their flying machines, they were mapping the paths that they had trod toward liberating humans from the clutches of Earth’s gravity. And when Grandpa wrote the recipe for his excellent gumbo, he, too, was a cartographer, taking notes about how he had done the work so that others might learn from it and, maybe, expand it into something more meaningful and delicious in their own lives.
The land and surrounding waters of Alaska have captivated humans for many ages. The majesty of the advancing and receding glaciers as they slowly carve valleys amid the mountains, the freedom of the soaring flights of eagles as they look down upon the rarely-visible orcas and belugas, the mystic palette of icy blues and whites against the vernal greens and floral splashes… People travel to, through, along, and across Alaska for commerce, for sightseeing, for escape, and for investigation, and the maps of those who have gone before them make those passages easier and more interesting, both by providing guideposts and by leaving other details to be explored by the new travelers with their own curiosities and motivations.
When I join CDR Rick Brennan (who is both the Commanding Officer and the Chief Science Officer of the ship), Executive Officer Holly Jablonski, and the rest of the crew of NOAA Ship Rainier in a few weeks, I will be learning how skilled scientists continue the grand tradition of mapmaking, using modern equipment to plumb the depths and chart the coasts from Juneau to Kodiak, updating the notes made by previous explorers so that the next travelers will have the confidence of our data before they add their own interesting pieces to their own maps. By participating actively in the expedition, I will be mapping new territory for my students and myself, too, as I gain first-hand evidence of how scientists in the field conduct the business of their science. Remember that more than two-thirds of Earth’s surface is covered with water, and we have more than 100 miles of atmosphere above our heads, and yet we’ve barely begun to explore those regions of our own home world. That makes the work and leadership of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration even more important because they are pioneers at this early stage in human exploration of those parts of our planet.
Rock climbing with the family in the hills of Georgia
Don’t you wonder what it might have been like to hang out with Galileo as he peered through his telescope, to sit next to Beethoven as he composed and edited a symphony, or even to watch the patient musings of Mendel as he gardened peas season after season? I do. It’s difficult to remember what it felt like to be a young explorer, unburdened by almost any preconceptions. But exploration is always available if we are willing to open our eyes and minds, and to get our hands dirty while investigating our own surroundings.
Learning by investigation on the shore of Jekyll Island
And when I return to my 8th-grade classroom in tiny land-locked Lake Butler, Florida, at Lake Butler Middle School, I’ll be able to share my own first-hand experiences and explorations aboard Rainier. I look forward to feeling the excitement bubble from inside me to capture the curiosities of my kids, as I act out the launching of depth-finding devices, display real data from my cruise, and share stories, notes, pictures, and videos to help them see and smell and hear what I witnessed. I look forward to my students’ questions after I return as much as I am excited about my own questions now. And I know that I won’t be able to answer all of those questions, but that’s the beauty of exploration: The students’ own wonderings will lead them to continue the explorations themselves, to enhance the maps with new notes, new details, and new points of interest.
Expedition boat about to visit the corals reef off Summerland Key from Mote Marine/NOAA LabView southeastward from Mote Marine Lab in Summerland Key, Florida
Teachers always are motivating their students to dig in, to investigate, to think for themselves and take chances with new and creative ideas. Of course, my students read to learn what others before them have discovered, but they learn in other and sometimes more meaningful ways by designing and building their own rockets, by lifting heavy weights with different sets of pulleys, and by constructing legitimate scale models of their home solar system. As a teacher, I have great influence over the young people in my care, and so I also must explore so that my students can trust my insistence that learning by active engagement is necessary and a real commitment for life-long learning. By leaving the comfort of my home to conduct hydrographic surveys along the coast of Alaska with the crew of Rainier, I hope to model that commitment.
Students building models at Kennedy Space Center
A last note: There’s something very poetic and temporal about starting my cruise at Juneau and ending it at Kodiak. Juneau is the capital of the state of Alaska, and Kodiak was the regional capital when Alaska was Russian territory. Moreover, regardless of the political boundaries, people of different tribes and nations have lived in the region since long before either country formally existed. Maybe what I’m saying is that the maps always will be re-drawn based on what people want to see in those maps. In some ways, people are just like people always have been, and in other ways they change. So does the land, so does the sea. And so I end this first blog where I started it, by respecting the role of the mapmaker as a trailblazer, a note-taker, a guide, and an explorer.
Keep exploring, my friends. And follow my blog here to travel with me and see where my explorations go next. Thanks for reading.
