Dr. Valerie Loeb is an adjunct professor at Moss Landing Marine Labs. Currently, she functions as an independent Antarctic ecosystem research scientist collaborating with Jarrod Santora of UC Santa Cruz. In April, she headed out to sea with a new NSF funded project entitled “Pilot Study: Addition of Biological Sampling to Drake Passage Transits of the ‘LM Gould'”. The following are updates from the field by Jamie Sibley Yin who is in charge of communications.
05/02/15 - Fish for Days
Palmer sunrise.
We are on another fishing trip. We left a day early from station because the seawater pumps failed in the Palmer Station aquarium and all the fish died. It was tragic, and the need for more fish was urgent. Since this leg of the cruise was dedicated to the fishing group, and we were not sampling, I was left with little to do and so helped with the fishing efforts. This included deploying the pots and trawling.
First we deployed the pots, which are left out for 24 hours. We had to prepare bait for the bait bags that lure the fish into the pots. The bait is hung on the mesh inside of the pots by large, industrial safety pins. The irresistible smell of slightly rotten fish lures the Notothenia coriiceps (one of their target fish) into the metal pots. I use a large kitchen knife to slice mackerel and sardine into chunks. The partially frozen fish are easy to chop but some of the fish have thawed, instead of creating firm bite size pieces of fish, my knife mashes them, brown guts ooze onto the plywood I’m using as a cutting board.
Over 100 lbs of fish later, and the bait bags are done. The marine technicians (MTs) load them into the pots. The pots are then lined up on the back deck of the ship in preparation to be pushed off into the water. They are kept close together in their groups of four, the rope that links them together is coiled atop each one. We move them as a unit, which means four people need to move them at the same time. It takes all my body weight to shove the pot across the deck into the line. They are pushed into the water by the MTs, we will retrieve them in a day.
The LMG Olympics are here, aka time to pull in the fish pots. Deploying them is pretty straightforward but pulling them up is a whole other kettle of fish. It takes six MTs and four scientists to coordinate the reeling in, and unloading of the pots. The boat gets as close to the pots as it can and then drifts towards them. Once the head MT, Jack, thinks the boat is close enough, he takes a four-pronged hook and lassos the buoy. The buoy has a GPS on a pole attached to two large orange balls, which are in turn attached to a set of pots. There are four sets of pots--16 in total. The buoy and balls are hauled onto the deck, coils of blue rope are reeled in and set aside. The 1st pot comes up, it’s full of fat Nototheniids, their pectoral fins splayed, trying to stabilize themselves as we roll the pot over the deck, their mouths agape as they gasping for water. Kristin, one of the PIs, unlatches and rips open the pot and hands me a wriggling fish. Its’ whole body flops in protest, mouth wide, I hold it like a baby and walk swiftly to the aquarium room where I drop it into one of the tanks.
Squid and pteropod.
Trawling is exciting because of the sea life that is pulled onto the deck from the ocean depths. Hundreds of sea stars, milky white octopuses, bryozoans, sea cucumbers, wriggling spiky amphipods, gelatinous tunicates—my eyes can’t pick out everything in the tangled squirmy mass hauled on to the deck. I go to bed as images of sea spiders and mystery fish flash through my mind. I could have spent hours picking through the by-catch, commanding the creatures to identify themselves.
Dr. Valerie Loeb is an adjunct professor at Moss Landing Marine Labs. Currently, she functions as an independent Antarctic ecosystem research scientist collaborating with Jarrod Santora of UC Santa Cruz. In April, she headed out to sea with a new NSF funded project entitled "Pilot Study: Addition of Biological Sampling to Drake Passage Transits of the 'LM Gould'". The following are updates from the field by Jamie Sibley Yin who is in charge of communications.
04/26/15 - Let’s Get Physical
Everyone decorated Styrofoam cups and we attached them in a mesh bag to the CTD. They went down to 4000m. The air in the cups is compressed and thus shrinks the cup size.
This week’s research has been dedicated to the physical oceanographers onboard. These scientists from Scripps Institute of Oceanography, Caltech, and Princeton are studying how water masses interact in the Antarctic. They accomplish this by recording temperature, salinity, and chlorophyll levels at different depths within the water column using a variety of instruments. The area they are sampling is back in Drake Passage--about a 40 hour steam from Palmer.
The instruments they have used are expendable bathy thermographs (XBTs), conductivity temperature depth censors (CTDs), and a glider, which they are recovering. Gliders are autonomous underwater vehicles (AUV) that are controlled remotely. At the beginning of the cruise they used XBTs to measure abiotic (physical) factors along the south-bound transit line across Drake Passage. XBTs are silver, oblong instruments about the size of a water bottle that are “shot” from the side of the boat. They take measurements as they fall to the ocean floor and send data back to the ship, relayed through a copper wire. XBTs are not recovered and rest forever on the ocean bottom.
This is the CTD (an instrument that measures conductivity, temperature and depth) getting ready to enter the water.
The group is now using conductivity temperature depth censors (CTDs) to record abiotic factors throughout the water column. The CTD machine is a barrel-shaped cage of pvc pipes that surround a carousel of canisters. The CTD lives in the “Baltic” room. To deploy the machine, a two-story door opens and the CTD is pushed out the door into the frigid water. As it descends towards the ocean bottom it transmits data, displayed as zigzagging colored lines on the computer screen. The lines are oxygen, fluorescence, temperature, and salinity. Fluorescence is a measure of primary production. CTD plots give us information about different water masses and their boundaries in the water column. The CTD schedule happens around the clock, therefore the crew and scientists are split into day and night shifts. As I get ready for bed, people are having breakfast and starting their day.
This CTD plot shows how salinity, temperature, oxygen, and fluorescence vary as a function of depth.
The glider recovery was a group effort. The glider is a yellow, torpedo-like, $150,000 instrument. It was left in the Drake four and half months ago to collect temperature and salinity readings at different depths. A GPS signal transmitted from the glider sends its location to a computer at Caltech every 24 hours. We got to its approximate location around 11:30pm. This was the position the glider had last pinged at midnight the night before and had no doubt drifted since that time. We had to wait until midnight again to get a new position. I said I would help look for it with everyone but felt dubious at actually spotting it. The only portion of the glider protruding from the water was an orange stick with a small swath of reflective tape wrapped around it. The whole thing we were trying to spot was about the size of a flare.
The glider being carried inside.
Chances seemed slim. Nonetheless, the 3rd mate, Rob, spotted the glider just as it was getting light, around 7:30am. Someone kept an eye on the location and the zodiacs were manned to retrieve the instrument. Conditions seemed ideal—sunshine, flat water, not a cloud in sight. It felt like we had found a needle in a silver haystack. Half an hour later the zodiacs were still not in the water and everyone had dispersed. Turns out the glider had been lost sight of. Everyone was on the bridge searching anxiously, eyes plastered to binoculars. An hour and a half later, and still no sign of the glider. The GPS said we were basically on top of it but no one could see it. In the meantime the swell had picked up, and sunshine turned to rain. Someone spotted it. Rain turned to sideways sleet. Three people stood outside, pelted by sleet, and pointed at the glider location while the zodiac was (quickly) loaded and deployed. The zodiac came in and out of view as it bobbed over three meter swells. The glider was eventually recovered with only a minor mishap. Guiliana, my friend, and scientist at Caltech was climbing out of the zodiac onto the ladder, a trough came by and she was left hanging on the bottom rung of the ladder, as she pulled herself up another wave came and soaked her to her armpits. The crew hauled her up and threw her on deck. After peeling off her soaked clothes, she led the way in glider inspection and cleaning. All was well, and everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.
This was a pod of whales we encountered, there were about 35 of them and about 1500 birds. They were most likely feeding on krill.
Dr. Valerie Loeb is an adjunct professor at Moss Landing Marine Labs. Currently, she functions as an independent Antarctic ecosystem research scientist collaborating with Jarrod Santora of UC Santa Cruz. In April, she headed out to sea with a new NSF funded project entitled “Pilot Study: Addition of Biological Sampling to Drake Passage Transits of the ‘LM Gould'”. The following are updates from the field by Jamie Sibley Yin who is in charge of communications.
April 22, 2015
Euphausia superba: also known as Antarctic krill, these were more than 2 inches in length, also notice the phytoplankon in stomach.
When we unlatched the cod end from the net, gobs of krill poured over the top, I scrambled to catch the wriggling animals in a bucket. The boat was en route to a fish trawling area near Dallmann Bay.
Humpack and fin whales dotted the horizon, seabirds swooped around the bow, plunging into the water to feed. This appeared to be a very productive region especially when coupled with a strong signal from the acoustic Doppler current profiler (ADCP). ADCPs send sound through the water column where it is reflected by sound scattering organisms such as crustaceans and fish with swim bladders. The ADCP at our current location showed a thick layer of nektonic organisms close to the surface. These creatures were most likely attracting the whales and birds, but the only way to know for sure was to conduct some net tows in the area. In contrast to our other tows, which were full of salps, copepods, and chaetognaths, every tow we pulled up was dominated by large Antarctic krill (Euphausia superba). Krill are a vital component to oceans worldwide, as they provide the link between primary production (phytoplankton) and higher-level organisms such as fish and whales.
Fin whales: fin whales near the boat.
We process our samples as soon as they hit the deck. Part of this is measuring krill body lengths. I take out a sample I had stuck in the fridge before dinner. I’m surprised the krill are still alive, swimming on their side around the clear plastic container, their little legs moving furiously. By the time I’m counting chaetognaths and pulling out amphipods, most everything is dead or feebly waving a pleopod. I’m taken aback by the still swimming krill. I pick one up and plop it in my petri dish, it twitches and flicks sea water at me. It’s large dark eyes jerk--I sense that it sees me. I quickly hold it to the ruler, record its’ length and gently place it in another jar, I add a few ice cubes for good measure, the krill buzzes around. I feel a twinge of satisfaction. After measuring a subsample I dump the remainder over the side, secretly hoping a few survive.
Fishing map: where we were fishing.
I’m not alone in my admiration for these robust critters. It was once thought krill could provide a solution to world hunger as they are abundant, low on the food chain, and a good source of protein. Unfortunately their chitin proved hard to remove, and they ended up having toxic levels of fluoride in their tissues. They have been used as cattle and poultry feed, and for farmed salmon to emulate the pink color of their wild counterparts. This pink color is from beta carotenes in the krill’s carapace, which also accounts for the pink feathers of flamencos, who feed on fresh water euphausiids. The latest fad is krill oil-- toted as a health supplement. After reflecting on the great utility of krill, I didn’t feel so silly throwing them back.
Dr. Valerie Loeb is an adjunct professor at Moss Landing Marine Labs. Currently, she functions as an independent Antarctic ecosystem research scientist collaborating with Jarrod Santora of UC Santa Cruz. In April, she headed out to sea with a new NSF funded project entitled "Pilot Study: Addition of Biological Sampling to Drake Passage Transits of the 'LM Gould'". The following are updates from the field by Jamie Sibley Yin who is in charge of communications.
April 19th, 2015 - Palmer Station and Ice Fish Project
A view of the Lawrence M. Gould (our ship) and Palmer Station.
When I woke up it was hard to believe we were in the same ocean as last night. The water was glassy and glaciers cut with snow-capped black rock towered on either side of us. We were due at Palmer Station in less than an hour. Palmer was the final destination for some folks—but not us. We were going with the ship, wherever she went.
This meant fishing in Gerlache Strait and recovering underwater gliders from Shackleton Ridge.
Palmer far exceeded my expectations for a station on an island off the coast of Antarctica. It’s nestled between light blue glaciers and looks out to the rock-studded ocean. The station feels like a ski cabin, fire roaring in thewood stove and floor to ceiling glass windows. The facilities are excellent and include a sauna and outdoor hot tub. After lunch we walked up the glacier behind the station (think gentle sloping glacier—nothing hard core). We take a radio and write our estimated time of arrival on the board. If you are not back by this time, the rescue team at Palmer must spring into action and come find you. The Antarctic landscape is harsh and far from any medical facilities, thus, every precaution is taken to prevent and minimize injuries.
A large seal near the station.
After our glacier jaunt, dinner was served at the station, everyone from the ship was invited to dine with the station dwellers. All was merry and the food was spectacular: tacos with chile verde, seared fish, heaping bowls of guacamole and honeydew relish. Who knew food could be so wonderful in Antarctica.
I was a bit sad to leave station after basking in its’ glory for only two days, but to sea again it was. This leg of the journey was for the icefish group to catch their fish. They are studying two groups of fish: Nototheniods, an endemic group of Antarctic fish, and Channichthids, also known as icefish. Icefish are unique in that they don’t have hemoglobin, a vital oxygen-binding protein found in the blood of all vertebrates. Their blood is therefore milky white. They are studying the thermo-tolerances of these fish and how they will respond to warmer water temperatures, potentially modeling their response to climate change.
A gravid icefish in the lab at Palmer Station.
They have a lab set up at the station but first they must find their fish. They use pot traps and benthic trawls to fish. The boat goes to specific locations where they have had success catching their fish in previous years. The trawling areas must have sandy bottoms (so the net doesn’t become snagged on underwater pinnacles). The pots are deployed in strings of four. They are left out for 24 hours after which we retrieve them and the fish inside. The icefish are strange-looking creatures, with flat elegant mouths and large sentient eyes they look more like crocodiles than fish.
Kristin, one of the PIs of the icefish project getting ready to unload a fish.
Our zooplankton sampling has been put on hold until the fish crew is done. We are still sorting through our samples and attempting to identify all our critters, including some very small copepods that are barely a few millimeters in length. It will be interesting to see how their composition changes when we sample closer to the continent.
Dr. Valerie Loeb is an adjunct professor at Moss Landing Marine Labs. Currently, she functions as an independent Antarctic ecosystem research scientist collaborating with Jarrod Santora of UC Santa Cruz. In April, she headed out to sea with a new NSF funded project entitled "Pilot Study: Addition of Biological Sampling to Drake Passage Transits of the 'LM Gould'". The following are updates from the field by Jamie Sibley Yin who is in charge of communications.
April 9th, 2015 - Northern Drake Passage
Checking out one of the critters with the microscope.
Our first net tow scheduled for 2am was cancelled. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was nervous about sorting and identifying species of zooplankton I had never seen before, staying up late into the night, and working with no end in sight.
The tow didn’t actually get cancelled, but got pushed back to 9am. We eventually dropped our net in the water at 11am. The net we use is called a Isaacs Kidd Midwater Trawl and is a vast swath of tough black nylon suspended by cord that hangs from a large metal hook. The whole contraption looks like an off-kilter puppet. The marine technicians are the ones that actually deploy our nets. It’s time. The ship slows to a crawl, the net slithers off the back deck into the icy waters. Half an hour later the cod end is delivered to us in a bucket. The cod end is a thick white plastic container with mesh holes. It’s attached at the end of the net and the unfortunate critters that don’t swim away are trapped there. The sample is a pink wriggling gelatinous blob. We dump it into another container and add seawater. Copepods, krill, amphiphods buzz around the dish, relieved to be in salty water once again. The salps, jelly fish, and chaetognaths are already dead. We pick them out with tweezers and count them. After sorting, counting, and recording all organisms in the sample except for the tiny copepods we are done. The stations were we sample are five hours apart going full speed on the boat. We have one hour to recuperate before the next station.
The marine technicians pulling in our net, an Isaacs Kidd Midwater.
We sampled six of the nine stations planned for the southbound transit. It was a brutal two days as we processed samples around the clock, catching two, maybe three hours of sleep when we could. I was not enthusiastic about missing my precious sleep, but the night samples were filled with loads of small shiny fish, called myctophids, which were so cool I soon forgot my lack of sleep.
The ship journey overall was quite calm except for our very last day in transit. Waves pummeled the side of the boat and splashed my window on the third floor, snow flew sideways outside, it was difficult to even stand without bracing myself against a wall. My productivity on the ship fell to zero as I all my focus turned to just functioning. Peering through a microscope and trying to sort krill is no easy task when the water in your petri dish sloshes from side to side every time the boat goes through a wave. Books and DVDs hurled themselves from the shelves in the lounge. People slid off the leather couches as the boat continued to rock. It felt like a fun house—one that was not so fun and that you couldn’t leave.
Dr. Valerie Loeb is an adjunct professor at Moss Landing Marine Labs. Currently, she functions as an independent Antarctic ecosystem research scientist collaborating with Jarrod Santora of UC Santa Cruz. In April, she headed out to sea with a new NSF funded project entitled "Pilot Study: Addition of Biological Sampling to Drake Passage Transits of the 'LM Gould'". The following are updates from the field by Jamie Sibley Yin who is in charge of communications.
April 8th, 2015 - First Entry
My chair sways gently, a jackhammer-like sound comes from an undisclosed location, men with white beards and black wire rimmed glasses stare into their laptops. Where am I? I’m somewhere in the Straits of Magellan, en route to Antarctica.
Hi, my name’s Jamie and I’m going to share my journey to, and my time in Antarctica with you all. I’m a recent marine biology graduate from the University of California, Santa Cruz, and I’m working with Valerie Loeb of Moss Landing Marine Labs on her ecosystem survey of Drakes Passage.
Today was the first day of real work--which I have been eagerly anticipating. It wasn’t quite what I was expecting but, then again, I haven’t known what to expect this whole time. There was lots of back and forth, running in and out of the ship. Tying down the microscopes and lights putting away boxes of petri dishes, pipettes, and one liter glass jars.
Outside the cool wind blows and the sea delivers unexpected blasts of seawater to my face. It’s cold, but not unbearably so. We have been issued special ECW (extreme cold weather) gear, which consists of everything you need to survive on an Antarctic boat including steel-toed boots (always needed on deck) and lined rubber gloves similar to the ones my mother uses to wash dishes.
The bird and marine mammal observer for our project, Mike, said he saw a minke whale and various birds including a giant petrel. I visited him in the bridge where he does his observations behind panoramic windows through a large pair of binoculars. The bridge is on the fourth level of the ship where the captain and mates orchestrate the movement of our ship, the Lawrence M. Gould or LMG. All I could spot were some birds that looked like small sea gulls (actually Antarctic fulmars), and lots of choppy waves. On the horizon I saw a snowy island, which, upon further inspection proved to be a cruise ship.
I’m still getting my “sea legs” as they say, and after breakfast I felt like regurgitating the eggs and bacon I had just eagerly consumed. But after seeing a whale, some Peale’s dolphins, and two penguins, my on-the-verge seasickness had left me. It was time to take a nap in preparation for our 2am zooplankton net tows.
Jamie standing in front of the US's National Science Foundation's icebreaker and research vessel, the Laurence M. Gould, named after an American scientist.
Project summary by Dr. Valerie Loeb
Overview
Changes in the Southern Ocean due to climate warming are expected to be visible in ecosystem dynamics. Analysis of ADCP records from supply transits of Drake Passage by the “L.M. Gould”, 1999-present, indicate that underway observations of the upper ocean scattering layer can serve as a proxy to monitor these changes. Recent results indicate that interannual variability in backscattering strength (i.e., quantity of responsible organisms) is correlated to climate indices. The interpretation of these ecological changes is severely limited because the sound scatterers have not been identified and linkages to upper trophic level predators are unknown. This project adds biological sampling to the “L.M. Gould” time series with the expectation that ADCP data, calibrated with net-tow data and depth-referenced underwater videography and predator distribution, can be used to extend the spatio-temporal coverage of in situ sampling in Drake Passage.
Intellectual Merit
This proposal provides a novel approach on how to make use of long term ADCP records in identifying those organisms responsible for seasonal, interannual and longer term variability observed in ADCP records collected since 1999. Net tows accompanied by videography during spring, autumn and winter periods will provide information on the abundance and taxonomic-size composition of organisms likely to be dominant sound scatterers within the 3 biogeographic zones of Drake Passage. The distribution and densities of distinct zooplankton assemblages and backscattering strength will be linked to seabird/mammal predator populations to illuminate ecologically important areas (i.e., characterized by high trophic transfer), which may be candidates for Important Bird Areas (BirdLife International). Establishment of “bottom-up” trophic connections enable future integrated assessments of climate variability on upper trophic level predators. Examination of ADCP backscatter variability and trends in southern Drake Passage with respect to zooplankton data independently collected here from 1994-2009 should indicate organisms underlying past ADCP trends and cycles relative climate indices (e.g., ENSO). Successful implementation of this project may initiate spatially and temporally coherent biological sampling extending over a sufficient number of years into the future that would provide statistically robust data sets on the species composition and abundance of zooplankton and seabird/mammal populations essential for assessment of significant ecosystem change in Drake Passage associated with a warming Southern Ocean.
Our first field season is October 27-November 22, 2014 (Austral spring) and the second is in April-May, 2015 (autumn).
Next semester, Moss Landing Marine Laboratories will welcome a new faculty member: Dr. Birgitte I. McDonald. She is replacing Director Jim Harvey as the new head of the Vertebrate Ecology Lab. Gitte agreed to answer a few questions about herself in advance of her much-anticipated arrival!
Q: How did you first get interested in physiology and working with "air breather" marine vertebrates?
A: My interest in marine animals started at the age of 7 on a family trip to San Diego where the highlight of the trip was a trip to Sea World. This love of the ocean continued, leading me to study at UC Santa Cruz because of the opportunities for undergraduates to get hands-on experience through field classes and volunteering. As an undergraduate I volunteered at Long Marine Lab for the Pinniped Research in Cognition and Sensory Systems project, took many field courses, and volunteered for graduate students. Some of the most exciting field work I helped out with as an undergraduate was harbor seal captures with Jim Harvey and his students. The more I worked with marine mammals the more excited I got.
My love of physiology came a little later. When talking with Dan Crocker, my master thesis supervisor, about a potential masters project he suggested that it would be good if I expanded my “took kit” by adding a physiological component to my project since most of my previous experience involved animal behavior and ecology. I thought that was a great way to look at grad school – as an opportunity to learn new techniques and subjects - so I followed his suggestion. I am glad I did, because the more physiology I learned the more I loved it. I had always been amazed by the ability of marine mammals and birds to thrive in the marine environment and by studying physiology I was starting to understand how they were able to do it.
Dr. Gitte McDonald
Q: Where are you now and what are you working on?
A: Currently I am a NSF postdoctoral fellow at Aarhus University in Denmark working with Peter Madsen and Tobias Wang studying the diving physiology and energetics of harbor porpoises. I have just finished a project studying the diving heart rate in captive porpoises using modified D3tags that can measure heart rate in addition to recording sound, acceleration and pressure. This has allowed me to look at how porpoises regulate their heart rate in relation to dive duration, activity and feeding behavior. We are planning on deploying these tags on wild porpoises as soon as the field tag is ready. I plan to maintain this collaboration after I start at Moss Landing so there may be opportunities for students to use this specialized tag to studying diving physiology and energetics in wild animals.
Sea lion with data logger, San Nicholas Island
Q: What new areas of knowledge do you bring to the Vertebrate Ecology Lab, and MLML as a whole?
A: I bring my expertise in physiological ecology of breath-hold divers. One of many reasons I am excited for the position at Moss Landing Marine Laboratory is because of the potential collaborations with the faculty. My research focus on energetics and diving physiology complements the research conducted by the existing faculty, while my expertise will provide new areas of concentration.
Additionally I hope to continue to conduct research in the Antarctic. I am excited about the possibility of introducing students to research in polar environments.
Q: What makes you most excited about joining MLML?
A: There are so many reasons I am excited about joining MLML it is hard to pick the top reason. I am excited to establish a research program taking advantage of the close proximity of the marine vertebrates located along the Pacific Coast. This will allow me to combine my love of field work and teaching by developing courses that provide students with a strong background in the fundamentals, while giving them opportunities to get hands-on experience.
Tagged Emperor Penguin (Photo Credit: Jerry Kooyman)
Q: Do you have any special skills outside of marine science that we might like to hear about?
A: I am not sure if it is a skill, but I enjoying figuring things out. If there is a problem or something is broken I think it is fun to try to fix it. It is amazing what you can do with the help of google. I can’t promise the outcome will be the most beautiful, but it will usually be functional. I have found this skill (or stubbornness) useful in the field.
Q: When will you be moving back to the United States?
A: I fly back to San Diego on December 30 and plan to move up to Capitola the first week in January.
A research team at MLML has been conducting research in the Antarctic for many years, but this year their plans may be shutdown. View of the Antarctic, photo by Clint Collins.
To be honest, I was sure this would have been over by now. When the government shutdown first started, I didn’t think it could reasonably last more than a couple of days. Even now in the second week, many people are still not seeing serious ramifications of the shutdown in their own lives. I, however, am feeling its effects greatly.
I started the Moss Landing Marine Lab graduate program last year after working as a research assistant in the Benthic Ecology Lab for a couple of years. My thesis work focuses on changes in Antarctic bottom-dwelling communities along a depth gradient, under the guidance of Dr. Stacy Kim. I've taken this current semester off from coursework in order to go to Antarctica to do field work for three months. Despite not being in any classes, I’ve been surprisingly busy getting ready for the trip. In order to physically qualify to work in Antartica, there are a series of medical tests everyone must pass involving EKG’s, full dental x-rays, blood work, and vaccinations. The diving we were planning on doing in Antarctica is deep, in sub-zero temperatures, and under a thick sheet of ice—considerably different than diving here in the Monterey Bay, so I had a lot of dive training to complete. Our team (you can read more about our work here: http://scini-penguin.mlml.calstate.edu/) was scheduled to live in a field camp where we would be collecting data through a hole in the ice with our remotely operated vehicle (ROV) called SCINI, so since the summer we’ve been testing its functioning and practicing driving it. Needless to say, our engineers have been busy.
View from under the ice to a hole where divers can enter and exit to perform underwater research. Photo by Clint Collins
If you’ve been following the news at all, you know what happens next in the story. The government shutdown means the National Science Foundation (NSF) is not operating, which means that the US Antarctic Program switches to "caretaker mode" and all science is suspended (you can read the announcement here: http://www.usap.gov/). Plane flights are canceled, ships en route are turning around, cargo is stopped, and almost everyone who is already down there has to be flown home. The waste of resources and funds this cancellation represents is monumental, but the additional cost in ruined research and scuttled projects makes it an irreparable loss.
Missing out on the research trip of a lifetime is frustrating and heartbreaking for me. However, my independent research won’t take too hard of a hit; while I was planning on collecting samples for my thesis work this season, I will be able to complete my thesis with data collected in previous years. What is much worse is the implication for the hundreds of larger projects that were to be conducted this season, such as our team's work on Antarctic food webs, numerous climate change studies, or research on life in subglacial lakes. Many studies conducted in Antarctica measure change over time, so one season of missing data can disproportionately compromise the scientific integrity of a sustained project.
View of penguins in the Antarctic, subject of a lot of research that is suspended until further notice. Photo by Clint Collins.
But what if the government shutdown ends soon? Can’t we still go? Well, as we’re settling into fall here in the northern hemisphere, spring is in full bloom in the southern hemisphere. In Antarctica, the research season is a narrow window in the summer, roughly October through February. And the window for diving is even narrower since an annual plankton bloom towards the start of summer means bad visibility by December. Sure, it’s possible that the government shutdown will end tomorrow and the US Antarctic Program will be back up and running. (But take that with a grain of salt— the shutdown itself has really changed my view on what is possible). There is a chance that we will still have part of a field season, although it may look pretty different from what was originally planned. The logistics of conducting research in Antarctica are complicated (think airplanes and helicopters, icebreaker ships, and international cooperation) and are planned out months and even years in advance. To suddenly stop everything and attempt to restart it weeks (or months?) later will be even more complicated. Whether any scientific research is going to happen this season, or whether it will be moved to next year, or whether it will be cancelled completely, is unknown.
So things are up in the air and we wait. After a year of planning, everything was halted just three weeks before our departure date. Our bags are packed and sitting on a pallet just waiting for theoretical shipment. So for now, I’ll be at the lab doing research for my thesis. But only the kind you can do with books and scientific papers.
The research vessel Pt. Sur has nearly completed its 8,000 mile journey to Antarctica! While crossing the Drake Passage, the crew was able to capture some great photos of the wildlife they observed. Check out the Pt. Sur Blog to see these pictures and learn about their adventures along the way to the Palmer Research Station where MLML scientists will be supporting various research groups for two months during Antarctica’s summer months.
Hourglass Dolphin sighted by the Pt. Sur during their voyage across the Drake Passage. Photo: Scott HansenR/V Pt. Sur
Did you know?
The Pt. Sur crossed the equator for the first time in history on December 18, 2012.
The Palmer Research Station is an 180,000 square kilometer study area located to the west of the Antarctic Peninsula. The researchers study the polar marine biome, focusing on the Antarctic pelagic marine ecosystem, including sea ice habitats, regional oceanography and terrestrial nesting sites of seabird predators.
Adelie penguins at the Palmer Research Station.
The Antarctic continent is home to the Adélie penguin, a true polar species that is dependent on the availability of sea ice which acts as a critical platform from which they forage for food. Palmer scientists have documented an 85 percent reduction in Adélie penguin populations along the western Antarctic Peninsula since 1974. These records provide some of the earliest evidence that regional climate warming is negatively impacting the marine ecosystem. Without sea ice, the Adélie penguin access to prey decreases and winter survival becomes more challenging.
by Parker Forman, MLML Vertebrate Ecology Lab
