Marching with Penguins: Trekking for a hot shower in Antarctica

Kristen Green
Kristen Green

by Kristen Green, Ichthyology Lab

I’m adjusting to this new and strange reality in Antarctica, and luckily we have been incredibly busy. The work we are doing is dynamic and interesting. Right now we are monitoring the reproductive success of penguin species here on the island. The Gentoo penguins were already starting to lay eggs, and another species, the Adelies, were getting ready to lay eggs.

Gentoo penguin (Wikipedia)
Gentoo penguin (Wikipedia)

We spent the first few days setting up sites, checking for eggs, and banding penguins for future monitoring. We each have our own colonies to monitor, and it takes about 4-6 hours to make your ’rounds.’  Our schedule can be erratic, with some nights we work until dusk (which is at 10 pm right now) and others we are done earlier, or have data or other hut chores to do. Our weather forecast system is as simple as looking at the window: if it’s nice outside GO!

If you are wondering how showering and laundry get done in this remote place, this provides an excellent segue to a description of my Saturday night at the Polish research station. Arctowski is a few miles away and we go there once a week. Getting there on this particular Saturday was quite a process. We first carried a canoe ¾ mile to the edge of the bay, where we will keep it for the rest of the season (thank goodness!). Then we navigated a dicey canoe crossing in front of a glacier with four people, four heavy packs, and a little bit of swell. We made it across safely, but with only a few inches of freeboard above the water and some wind and swell – it was an exciting trip. We then hiked another mile or so to Arctowski.

I was looking forward to hot showers and laundry, which we got, but the showers are set up in what looks like a Russian engine room from the Cold War era. Conveniently, though, after you wash your clothes, you hang them in front of one of the huge generators in the room which create about a 15 mph hot wind. Needless to say my clothes dried quickly, albeit crunchily.

The next day was long; we had to weigh 50 struggling penguins the next day at a site near the Polish station, and then after we returned home, we had to do the rest of our penguin rounds near our field station. We didn’t finish until dark  We’re getting ready for dinner right now, and it is a little stormy outside. I can hear the penguins from my room and I’m starting to not even notice their noisy cries – I guess penguins can’t tell themselves apart either, so they recognize their mates by voice, which means a lot of “communicating!”

Against the Grain

Jeremiah Brower
Jeremiah Brower

by Jeremiah Brower, Geological Oceanography Lab

One of the reasons I love being a Geological Oceanographer is that you can walk along the beaches of Santa Cruz and travel through thousands of years of history in a few short miles. Much of the coastline here is actually made up of shallow marine plankton deposits that have been crushed over the years into a fine silt and sandstone layer that is greater then 150 m thick.

Basically, the coastline of Santa Cruz was once underwater and has been slowly rising through a tectonic process called “uplift” for the better part of the last two hundred thousand years.  Because of uplift, these previously submerged sediment deposits of the continental shelf are now exposed above the ocean, and natural erosion has cut them back to the cliff walls we see today.

Geologists identify this cliff layer we find on our coastline as the ‘Purisima formation’ and date it to the late Pliocene era (1.6-5.3 million years ago, which is young as rocks go, if you can believe it!).  The Purisima formation is structured with thousands of shell fragments from clams and various other plant and animal life forms that used to live on the sea floor. By examining the different layers of the formation you can see when the ocean was more full of life, or when the sea floor was a sort of dessert (just another cool aspect of geologic oceanography).

A certified time detective and rock hunter in action.

No matter where you go in the field, you tend to find that the land has been affected by the ocean. The Santa Lucia range of central California is another great example: it was created by the compaction of millions of marine carbonate shells left behind by various planktonic life forms.

So I suggest that the next time you’re hiking in the mountains or hanging out at the beach with a cold mojito, consider the sand and rocks around you. Most of this planet is covered in water, and that water has affected most of the land we stand on – so don’t be surprised if you’re hiking in Montana and find a shark’s tooth at your feet!

Sand man over and out.

And now for something truly scary

Erin Loury
Erin Loury

by Erin Loury, Ichthyology Lab

Since it’s Halloween, I just wanted to share something that will really scare the squarepants off your sponge  – or at least it should if you’re a marine scientist, educator, or communicator because it shows how frighteningly far we are from helping the “general public” understand how the ocean works.

The actual inspiration for this blog came in part from Dr. Kenneth Coale, chemical oceanography professor and valiant director of MLML, sharing the following article with our chem oce class earlier this year.  The December 2007 issue of Oceanography contains an article by Dr. Robert Feller, who shares a list of misconceptions about the ocean that he has gathered over the years.  Many are the top response in multiple choice polls he gives to his non-science undergraduate classes using “clicker” devices (which let students answer anonymously and see everyone’s answers displayed on a screen).

You can view the full article by clicking here.  While some of the 110 misconceptions are humorous (e.g. #67. “Sea monkeys” are really some sort of marine monkeys,” and #104. “Sailors can outdrink and outcurse anyone” – wait, that’s a misconception?), most indicate that we as marine scientists clearly have a long way to go to help people understand the system that we study, and the work that we do.  (And lo, “The Drop-In” was born!)

I’ll admit, some definitely give me cause for pause (like #39. “A water spout is not the same thing as a tornado” – uh, what’s a water spout?  Thank goodness for Wikipedia), but most are enough to make your blood run cold.   Here are some of my personal favorites that we’ll try to dispel on “The Drop-In” (Mythbusters style!) in the future.

  • 9. The deep sea is stagnant, never changes.
  • 15. The ocean is basically a bowl, deepest in the middle.
  • 23. The three big oceans are not connected; each acts alone.
  • 47. Table salt + water = seawater.
  • 48. Salty oceans are not linked to land’s freshwater cycle.
  • 53. High latitudes, being cold, must be unproductive.
  • 68. A sponge is a sponge is a sponge; same for nematodes. [Surely Amanda will have something to say about this one!]
  • 77. Sharks are out to eat humans, thus shark attacks are
    premeditated.
  • 79. Whales spout water through their blow holes.
  • 90. Fishermen don’t catch enough bycatch to have to change
    their fishing methods.
  • 98. All areas of the ocean are monitored regularly—we’re
    on top of it.  [Wow – it’s great they think so highly of us but...]

And perhaps most frightening of all:

  • 100) The ocean is like a sponge, so just dump stuff in and it will absorb it.

Does it surprise you to discover that some of these things aren’t true?  Can you think of reasons why that might be?  We’ll try to get to the bottom of these in future posts, but feel free to post your thoughts in the meantime.

And for all you scientists out there, good luck sleeping tonight….bwahaha.

Life at the Ends of the Earth

Kristen Green
Kristen Green

by Kristen Green, Ichthyology Lab

Punta Arenas, Chile, is a windy, lonely, port town, at the very tip of South America, where I arrived October 12th.  Tourists arrive here to board expensive luxury cruises to Antarctica, wandering backpackers flag down buses to the Patagonia region, and stray dogs roam the streets everywhere.

Another group of ephemeral travelers haunts the city: folks frantically packing boxes at the port, making last minute shopping trips for approximately 6 months worth of toiletries, hoarding email time at the internet cafes, and in the evening, engaging in serious rounds of pisco sours, the national Chilean cocktail. These are the scientists with the US Antarctic Program, and this is how I spent my few days in Punta Arenas.

There were about 25 scientists all waiting to embark for the Antarctic aboard the Research Vessel (R/V) Laurence M. Gould.  This is a large ice-strengthened ship that transports scientists and staff to several US field camps and research stations on the Antarctic Peninsula.  The trip takes 5 days, including a few days in the much talked about (and often hazardous) Drake Passage, but we had pretty good weather. The ship arrived in Admiralty Bay, on King George Island October 18th.  While there are enormous, permanent glaciers on the island, there was actually not very much ice and snow around the station, which is right on the shores of Admiralty Bay.

The Laurence M. Gould - built for ice! (Photo by NSF)
The Laurence M. Gould - built for ice! (Photo by NSF)

It is very strange to observe the small structure where you will be living for the next few months slowly to come into view, yet, not look all that much bigger the closer you get!  The field station has a main room with a kitchen and pantry, and bunk room. There is also a small lab with another bunk room attached. Three of us will be working here continuously for the next five months:  Myself, and Dave and Amy, a couple from Alaska.  Sue, along with her husband Wayne, are in charge of the project and have been working here since 1981. Sue is starting the season with us, but will be replaced by another researcher in 5 weeks, who will in turn be replaced by her husband Wayne.

The Copacabana station relies on wind and solar power for our energy, with a generator for backup. Our drinking supply comes from a “sophisticated” rain catchment system: snow melt is collected off the roof into barrels. Water and energy conservation are critical. Our toilet is even more sophisticated: a five gallon bucket that is emptied and buried in the intertidal area when full. Communication consists of VHF radio, satellite phone, and the slowest internet connection you can imagine, through the satellite phone. It is much, much slower than dial up, and very temperamental!

There was a lot to do to get ready for the season; and everyone on the ship came ashore to help with the major offload of all the dry, fresh, and frozen food that will sustain us for the next five months. We won’t get another shipment of fresh food until January, and already some of our fresh vegetables are getting moldy. I miss fresh produce in Santa Cruz already!

Do sponges have the nerve to eat?

Amanda Kahn
Amanda Kahn

by Amanda Kahn, Invertebrate Zoology and Molecular Ecology Lab

Hi again.  I received a few questions in my previous post that I would like to address in this post.  A user named doughnutfan asked three great questions about sponges.

Q: Are the spicules themselves responsible for filtering out the food particles?

A: Sponge spicules do not filter food particles out of the water – what they do is support the cells that do.  I often think of sponges as skyscrapers (yes, I really do); it makes it a lot easier to visualize what different body parts of sponges are good for.  Spicules are like the beams and internal structures that support the skyscraper – they provide support and give the sponge its shape.  Spicules also make sponges hard to eat; very few animals can handle passing glass shards through their digestive systems!

Instead, what is responsible for filtering food out of the water is a type of cell called a choanocyte (ko-AN-oh-site).  It looks like a funny name at first, but it’s named after a group of microscopic single-celled organisms called choanoflagellates.  The choanocytes in sponges look just like the free-roaming choanoflagellates, but intsead of being solitary, single-celled organisms, sponge choanocytes are clustered together and work together to get food.  As a side note, the strong similarity between the way choanoflagellates and sponge choanocytes is no coincidence.  Currently, the favored hypothesis of how animals first evolved from single-celled organisms is that choanoflagellates evolved into sponges (specifically, the choanocytes in sponges).  Read more

Sponge skyscrapers and love symbols

Amanda Kahn
Amanda Kahn

Check it out blog fans – Amanda is guest blogging today at the awesome Deep Sea News blog!  (Which is the place to get the lowdown on weird critters lurking in the darky deep.)

sentimental yet structurally sound
Euplectella: sentimental yet structurally sound

As part of the DSN countdown to Halloween, featuring the 27 coolest deep sea creatures (Why 27, you ask? “Because it’s 7 more than 20,” they reply), Amanda shines the spotlight on a deep sea sponge called Venus’s Flower Basket (Euplectella), a brainless but beautiful architectural marvel.

“Running transects across the abyssal plain is about as exciting as driving across Nevada…until you run across Euplectella,” Amanda writes. Click here to visit Deep Sea News and read the whole story – and find out why this sponge makes an excellent wedding present in Japan!

Feeling the Pinch

Ok, it’s been a crazy midterm week – so here’s a fun photo to look at! (Which is worth at least a thousand words of posting right?) I know, cop out, cop out…BUT!  This is no random photo selection!  It features our very own blogger Amanda Kahn, who (fact) is celebrating her birthday today (hooray!), and (also fact) had to spend it taking a 4 hour population biology midterm (doh!).

Think you can caption this photo? Give it your best shot!

Happy birthday, Amanda, and watch out for those dissected tuna – they’ll getcha!

Marching with Penguins

Kristen Green
Kristen Green

Imagine waking up, stepping outside, and being surrounded by nothing but snow, ice – and lots of penguins.  Such an opportunity is enough for even the most dedicated grad student to put a thesis on hold and hop a flight to Antarctica.  For the next five months, Kristen Green of the Ichthyology Lab is switching gears from studying fish to their feathered counterparts: the penguins.  What will this glamorous field work at the ends of the Earth entail?

Kristen writes:

The box at the end of the Antarctic Penninsual is King George Island
This arrow leads to King George Island (box at the end of the Antarctic Peninsula)

“It’s hard to write an email describing what you are going to be doing for the next five months, but I leave Saturday, October 11th to conduct research on penguins on a small field station in the Antarctic. I will be working with four other scientists on King George Island [at the tip of the Antarctic peninsula], at a field station known as “Copacabana.” Not the tropical resort you might have had in mind…instead, the temperatures might reach a balmy 5 degrees C (40 degrees F) in the height of summer.  Minimum temperatures can reach -5 degrees C (22 degrees F). We will be there from mid-October to mid-March. This photo of the station is taken during the Antarctic summer, and as you can see, much of the snow has melted.  But when we arrive, the island will still be covered in snow and ice.

Copacabana research station - a bit of a cruel joke in naming
Copacabana research station - a bit of a cruel joke in naming

Penguin research began at King George Island in 1976. It’s pretty amazing to be part of a research group that has been studying the ecology and demography (population characteristics) of the region’s penguin and flying bird populations for over 30 years. Briefly, the main two scientific objectives of the study are to: 1) quantify the reproductive success and survival of penguin populations in the area, and 2) to investigate these population dynamics in response to prey-predator relationships and environmental variability. Some of this involves simply stepping out the door to get to work, while other penguin colonies are as far as 12 miles away.

Our closest neighbor is the Polish Research Station, Arctowski, which we visit every week, for showers (yeah!), laundry, & socializing. Copa also receives visitors from other research ships passing through the bay, as well as cruise ships carrying tourists. We also coordinate with these ships to get re-supplied with food and other necessities.”

Wish Kristen luck and stay tuned for more of her chilly escapades!

No Way Out – the Infinite Hypothesis Loop

Erin Loury
Erin Loury

by Erin Loury, Ichthyology Lab

It’s not unusual to feel “locked-in” at times during graduate school (as in, “What is this path I’ve committed myself to  and where does it end?!”).  But, according to the dry wit of one British ecologist, this is a natural product of the scientific method itself…

While doing a bit of class reading (can you tell midterms are around the corner?) from the book Experiments in Ecology by AJ Underwood (1997) I came across this little gem of a quote.  Underwood stresses that the acceptance or a rejection of a hypothesis at the end of an experiment is hardly the end (as he subtly suggests in his figure: DON’T END HERE).  More work remains to either create a new hypothesis or develop tests to refine the existing one.  He concludes, “Thus, in Figure 2.1 there is no way out of the procedure once you have started it, until you die or change research fields.”

the endless hyptohesis loop
Click to see larger image: that endless hypothesis loop

That’s right. Until you die.  Or change research fields… For some, the never ending flow of questions is the beauty of the system, or exactly the point.  As Underwood continues, “This is comforting in terms of eventual longevity of employment”  (assuming, of course, one can obtain funding  to continue the process, but that’s another matter…).

For others, this smacks strongly of commitment, and has them edging towards the door.  Grad school is the ultimate test-drive of a scientist’s life.  Can you you see yourself pursuing this continuous loop and loving it?  Do you have that insatiable curiosity to understand how the world works, to keep asking questions, to think of possible answers and find creative ways to test them? (and test them and test them and test them?) If so, congratulations, and welcome to the world of research!

And if not?  Don’t fret – the life of a scientist these days is often more than just pure research, and research is just one of many avenues to pursue on the back of a science degree.  Let me draw your attention to our great and growing collection of alumni career interviews, where actual factual graduates of Moss Landing Marine Labs graciously share where their science careers have lead.   Explore, get ideas, and discover what people actually do with degrees in marine science!

Birds of the Bering Sea – Rough Times

Nate Jones
Nate Jones

by Nate Jones, Vertebrate Ecology Lab

June 7, 2008: A short entry, because I’m seasick! The weather has definitely taken a turn for the worse! So much for the calm Bering Sea in summertime. We have a gale going, with winds to just over 40 knots, and seas of 15-20 feet. I went up on the bridge this morning to look and see the stormy weather. I was excited to experience this, because it’s definitely part of what makes this ocean what it is. I could barely keep my feet as the boat lurched from side to side. The spray from the waves was lashing across the windows, blown by the wind. That’s like 40 feet off the water! OOooppf. I couldn’t stay very long. I didn’t even take a picture, unfortunately. But, the US Coast Guard is nice enough to provide some stock footage on their website that I’ll borrow here to demonstrate what I saw:

J. Minchew, USCG)
Bering Sea storm (photo: J. Minchew, USCG)

Lucky for me, our scientific instructions (protocols) tell us not to survey in this weather because it’s too difficult to see birds anyway. I mean, c’mon – How many birds can you see in this photo?!