Eeeek! Eels…

People seem to equate Shannon with Fearless. This is not necessarily true – I do have my fair share of things that make my knees shake and my heart pound. I am not, however, squeamish and generally up to poke and prod and hold things – be it slimy, slimy fish, slimy, slimy fish gonads, stinky, stinky whale guts, and so forth.
At this point would like to admit, that these huge eels that we occasionally pull out kinda freak me out. Some of them are almost 2m long, their wiggle and squirm, and as we pull them up to either bring them on board or just cut the line, they stare into your eyes and give you the “I’m going to bite your head off in just a sec”-expression. They don’t actually make a sound by I always envision (enaudio?) them making a hissing, dragon-style I’m-about-to-breath-fire-type sound.
Yes, eels are freaky!

[once I get a better internet connection you'll be able to view the Shannon-holding-eel-picture]

it's me - plus the a kingsnake eel

Cut the line!

I few of you have asked what happens if the line breaks. Well, if the line snaps for whatever reason we usually maneuver around to the other high flyer and start from there. We have had this happen before, but it’s not too big of a problem because we have a second chance.
We did though at one point snap the line, then try to haul it in from the other side to discover that the line must have gotten snagged by something on the seafloor because the same things happened again. This IS a problem. Apart from the fact that we spent the next hour or two making new gangions (the short lines with the hook that we then attach to the actually longline) and sorting out tag numbers to have another complete set to clip onto the hooks, “ghost lines” and “ghost nets, i.e. any fishing gear that has been lost or cut loose by fishermen can be a big problem and cause high mortality of dolphins, turtles and other creatures.
Last night we were happily hauling in our line when all of the sudden gales started up, then the rain. We continued reeling in the line as fast as we could, but at the point where hard hats blew across the deck and one of the hook barrels tried to make a quick getaway we got the call from the bridge to cut the line. Which we did, then packed everything down in a hurry and hurried inside.
By the time things had calmed down enough to haul the rest of the line in, our shift had ended and we were cuddled up in the crew lounge watching a movie while the night shift did all the work….

Sword Fish!

Sometimes we really don’t catch anything. We just pull in hook after hook “bait damaged”, “no bait” and some more hooks “no bait”, “no bait”. The other day we were on the front deck reeling in the line, enjoying the sunshine, lulled by the constant zzzzzzzzzz of the winch. When suddenly “Fish On! What the…??”
We all peered overboard and discovered that we had captured a huge swordfish! I managed to whip out my camera and even get some decent shots:

[you'll have to come back for pictures of the awesome swordfish - our internet connection is too slow]

here it is!!

Ship life

Well here it is, I haven’t seen land in over 10 days and I really don’t miss it. Yes, I’m kinda bummed about missing out on the beginning of the Fall Season’s rugby craziness, and I could do with a nice long bike ride, and I haven’t had the chance to hang out with my gang of class mates and house mates and one of the first things I’ll probably do when I get back will be some cooking and baking in the kitchen. But all in all, it comes down to the fact that I love being out on the ocean. I missed it. I quickly re-adjusted to the constant humming of the AC, the vibrations of the engine and learned to “read” the ship… when my shift isn’t working I can tell by the movement and sounds of the ship whether we’re underway or about to/in the middle of setting in or hauling back.
After spending two years on the Doulos I’m accustomed to ship’s life but of course every ship’s got it’s own culture. I’m having a lot of fun with the crew and the other scientists. Long-lining involves a lot of downtime as we let the line soak and sail to the next station (and sometimes when we spend 45minutes pulling in a line with nothing on it) so there’s a lot of messing around, cracking jokes and random conversations.
I’ve also been learning a lot about football – Saturday’s is college football, Sunday is the NFL and then Monday night there’s more. Oh, and everyday there’s big guys in suits and important looking headsets (I’m still trying to figure out why they don’t just use a lapel mic while inside the studio… maybe it gives them the feeling of being an important part of a coaching team?) talking about football. I’ve also discovered I probably would have made an excellent cheerleader had I gone to school in the States!
Actually, I’ve got a suggestion for my rugby team whose been trying to recruit new players. Somebody suggested that we should talk to the girls that were cut from the soccer, lacrosse and field hockey teams. I think we should start recruiting cheerleaders because they’d make excellent jumpers in the linouts! As opposed to merely lifting them we could toss them…
We’ve been pitching and rolling for most of our cruise – even the captain told me the other day over dinner that it’s kinda rough. It takes a bit if re-adjusting and I remembered why I never liked showering on the Doulos during a voyage (shaving your legs can get quite challenging!). I’ve got a mean looking bruise on my knee – let’s just say I learned my lesson about going to the bathroom in the dark without my glasses on while the ship is moving that much.
Between the crew and scientists we’ve got a marvelous cast of characters and things never get dull. To recount a short conversation on evening in the galley (dining room): “If y’all finished my Earl Grey, I’m gonna kick that persons ass”, “Wow. I don’t think anyone has ever used the words ‘y’all’, ‘Earl Grey’ and ‘ass’ in one sentence”.

BIG one

I have been asked where the live action picture of me wrestling with sharks is. I will tell you where it is – there isn’t one. It’s not like you can pause in mid-measuring/tagging, whip out your cell phone and tell the shark: “Say cheese” and snap a picture of yourself and the shark. Yes, possibly if there’s not that many sharks on the line there may be some time for pictures but usually when we’re pulling them up we’re doing so in rapid succession.
We’ve had a few hauls now that were full of big sharks. Last night, we had about 15 that were too big to pull on board, they had eaten half of the small sharpnose that took the bait – so we ended up with a bunch of half-eaten sharks and shark heads. Currently, the swell is so high that the boat is rocking so much that we aren’t using the cradle. Either the crew can pull it on deck or we peer over the side of the boat as the shark (usually around 2m give or take) thrashes and flips around trying to get an ID on the species, determine its gender, as well as estimate its size. The crew swaps shifts half hour before we do and one night we realized that the night crew like to pull much larger sharks on deck than the day crew that usually works with us. We were pulling them up like there was no tomorrow and I was busily trying to take down all the data that three people were throwing at me simultaneously I felt something staring at me and discovered a 1,6m (5’2”) shark lying on the deck behind me inching its way closer to my shoe.
While for the larger sharks you need two or even three people to hold them down while you’re measuring, the smaller sharks are most easily handled be grabbing them right behind its head and letting it whip its tail around all it wants until it calms down a bit and you can remove the hook (which is none too easy) and measure and weigh it..
Do not hold a small shark by its tail most of them are able to bit themselves in the tail (and whatever is holding it there). No Daddy, I didn’t learn this the hard way. I’m taking peoples word for it.

Just like a big, big goldfish

Obviously, sharks aren’t the only fish in the sea. And they aren’t the only fish interested in “free food” on the bottom of the sea. Various other scientists have put in requests for samples for certain species of fish should we pull them up. When we get Red Snapper, Tile fish and various Grouper species we take them to the back deck and once we’re done with the haul the fun begins.
We dissect them to get at and keep certain parts. We check their gonads to see if they’re male or female (a lot of these species turn male once they reach a certain size), and then cut them out and pop them into little plastic bags with formaldehyde so they can be analyzed later, we keep part of the muscle to test for mercury, we keep part of the fin to possible later genetics. Yes, it’s all very gooey and slimy and rather smelly. The things we do in the name of science! We also upon up the gill cavity and go digging for the otholiths – part of the bony structure that can be used to age the fish.

Once we’re done collecting samples, the fish gets filed and there is fresh fish on the menu the next day. The first night we spent working on Red Snapper I was helping with all the dissection stuff and the longer I was looking at the fish the more I realized that it really does look like a 15-20lbs goldfish

Slip slip slidin’ away

Of course, sharks aren’t the only fish in the ocean. And they aren’t the only fish interested in our bait. Depending on which depth we’re fishing at we’ll not only haul in a different shark species – we’ll pull up all kinds of other fish as well!
One of the PhD students on board is researching tilefish. These fish live on the seafloor in deeper habitats (200-300m). So she was quite excited about us fishing at some deeper stations today and potentially pulling up some tilefish. Interesting side note – because they live at such great depths and we pull them out pretty fast their eyes bulge out and look like they’re about to explode from their heads.
And pull the up we did. At our first deep station we hauled in about eight – one of them weighed 11kg (25lbs)! Yes, that’s a big fish. Another side note – with a few minor exceptions all tilefish are born female and those that grow past a certain size will turn male. Tilefish are quite beautiful. They’ve got yellow markings on the side as well as their fins.
We pulled out a few the second deep haul as well, as well as some kingsnake eels, sharks and Hakes. It was going so quick and we were “down” one person because the tilefish person had decided to take one of the large eels on board to see if it had any tiny tilefish in its stomach and apparently it put up quite the fight. So somebody decided to place all the fish were pulling in right behind me.
Now most of you know that I’m not particularly squeamish, but being trapped between a table trying to take down data with fish flopping behind me (remember we’re talking 2-3 feet), sloshing their slime on my back legs was not a happy moment: “Could somebody get these fish out from behind me?!” The tile person rushed back explaining how the eel hadn’t been to happy, almost escaped but she managed to kill it and put it in the tub. She happily took the remaining tilefish to the back where she slits the gills so they don’t slowly suffocate.
After the haul I was the first to walk back to bring the datasheet into the dry lab. As I was walking past the tub one of the not-so-dead-fish violently flopped, hitting the back of my leg causing me to jump. I landed in the eel slime covering the deck and slide about a meter on one foot before I could balance (all those years of sliding around polished floors in my socks finally paid off!). By the time everyone else made it to the back deck I was busily scrubbing and hosing down the deck.
Where’s the video camera when you really need it?
(PS: Yes Daddy, I was wearing a life jacket)

Hauling back...

While puncturing fish eyeballs, slinging bait and tossing high fliers overboard can be quite exhilarating and fulfilling (or not) hauling back probably is the more exciting process (or not - when you've pulled up a hundred hooks and got nada).
After an hour or so of soaking time we throw on our personal flotation devices (you wouldn't want to get caught in the line and dragged overboard. But if you do you'd want to have a vest on) and head to the front of the ship. We spot the high flier, the bridge navigates us right next to it and we nab it and haul it on board. The line gets fastened to the winch and we begin the process of hauling back, i.e. pulling every hook on board, checking whether or not we've caught anything.
Everything is tediously documented. We have one person at a laptop (yes Charly, the indestructible mission-impossible-esque toughbooks) who logs each hook - this laptop is interfaced with the ship's navigation system so it logs the exact position real time. The person removing the hooks calls out what we've got: 1 - no bait... 2 - no bait... 3 damaged... 4- no bait... etc (we usually get 'no bait) and then 23 - FISH ON.
Now things get exciting. We pull the (hopefully it's a) shark on board and the data recorder takes down all the details: "Number 23 Atlantic sharpnose (they're like the rabbits of the ocean, we usually pull them up), alive, male, immature, fork length 8-4-7 (mm so make that just under 3 feet), total length 9-7-0, weight (there's usually a bit of a pause as the person handling the shark removes the hook) 4 point 2 (kg - so about 9 pounds).
Then we toss the fish overboard. If it's not a sharpnose we'll take fin clippings for DNA-stuff and tag it before it goes overboard.
We generally only pull sharks up to about 4-5 feet on board. Anything bigger than that turns into a more complicated procedure involving a crane and "the craddle" - which is a metal basket. While one person is holding the line attached to the hook the shark swallowed (yes this isn't as easy as it sounds - the shark is usually thrashing and putting on a good show) the crew members leap into action attaching the basket to the crane, lowering it overboard and scooping up the shark. We get the measuring stick, measure it, weigh it, tag it and then either remove the hook or more likely decide that it's a better idea to let the shark have the hook and just clip the line.

Hauling back can be an exciting process of getting 20 or so sharks (I think the most we had on our shift so far was 30), a more relaxing process of 3-8 or the disappointing process of nothing.
But then there's always the next haul....

Fair weather and/or smooth sailing

Fair weather and smooth sailing don’t always go hand-in-hand. While the first couple of days gave us lots of sunshine and smooth seas, a hurricane sitting out in the Caribbean is helping us to large swells and more and more choppy waters. By yesterday it had also done away with our sunshine and replaced it with some rain fronts.
Last night I discovered that sleeping rolled up in a ball was not going to work out. My bunk is aligned with the width of the ship and with the side-to-side movement I was sliding up and down my bunk. Flipping back on my stomach solved that problem and the ship’s movement quickly lulled me back to sleep.
Yes, a moving ship (in this case a REALLY moving ship) does add some challenges to work and everyday ships life. I had to tap into my rugby reflexes and displayed some quick hands when my cup swooshed across the counter top while I put the bottle back into the fridge. The data sheets recording the size and weight of the fish we’ve pulled out display some interesting looking hieroglyphs and I’ve learned that it’s really difficult to deal with balancing yourself, taking notes and sliding tables at the same time. You also quickly learn that you can’t fill your tea mug and cereal bowl all to full and it’s important to keep some extra space for milk-sloshing.
On the bright side… a bit of pitching and rolling does mask my natural klutziness. Having to take that extra step to balance never was so normal.

Setting in...

Long lining involves two major steps – setting in and hauling back. About 15 minutes before actually starting the process of setting in the “scientists” go onto the back deck and start baiting all 100 hooks with mackerel. We’ve got two large barrels that have slits in the top where we can latch the hooks while the line they’re attached to stays in the barrel. There’s a certain strategy to baiting – we try to get the hook through twice. E.g. if you’ve got the front half of the fish this is most easily accomplished if you go through the eyes first (they tend to pop and yucky juice comes out) and then sliding back in through the gill cover. If you’ve got the back end you need to make ure you don’t squeeze it to hard or all the guts will squish out.
As we approach the station we’ll be fishing at, one of the crew guys will walk the line from the bow of the ship where the winch is located towards the back – there are several pully-wheeley-thingies across the side of the ship you can put it through. I will tell you it is one loooooooooong line (duh). In the end we’ll have a mile-long line in the water with 100 baited hooks on it.
We attach the front end of the line to a high flyer. Basically, it’s a buoy with two large metal poles sticking out of it. On top there’s a little light that will blink in the dark. We toss the high flyer overboard and then continue running the line for a certain distance depending on how deep we are fishing at that station. For example, at a shallow station when we’d only be fishing at a depth of 60m, we let 60m run off of the line and then attach a large weight. That way the line will sink to that depth. Then we continue running the line as one person takes the bait out of the bucket, throws it overboard and then holds the front end out to a second person who clips a number to it. Then he hands it to the crew member who will clip it to the line. This continues until we’ve got all 100 hooks on the line.
At that point, we clip the line after attaching a second weight and tie it to a second high flier which we then toss overboard as well– though toss is an understatement, those things are heavy! Now all we have to do is let it “soak” for an hour before hauling back.

The gist of Long-lining

Long lining is a surprisingly long process:
We have to steam to the station (these are predetermined).
We have to bait the hooks.
We have to attach the hooks to the line and toss them into the water.
We have to wait (“soaking time”).
We have to retrieve the hooks and measure/weigh/identify what we’ve caught
We have to make sure everything is set up for the next run.
So far we’ve caught as little as nothing and as much as much as 16-18 fish per 100 hooks. It’s fun hauling in the big stuff but as I was just watching the other shift haul in their line one engineer commented: “Well, it’s a good thing we don’t get paid by how much we catch!”

Plankton!!!!

Okay.
So we didn't start off with super exciting 20-foot sharks. We got started with the itty-bitty-tiny stuff: Plankton.
Plankton by definition is tiny stuff that can't actively swim - they kinda drift around, float from here to there, go with the flow. Catching phytoplankton though can be a bit more challenging that you think. It involves big nets with a very fine mesh size. Because the usual phytoplankton people had a bit more to do with the whole oil-spill drama down here in the Gulf, the shark people were helping them out by picking up the last few of their usual stations.
After we'd sailed to a station we would first through a big, long net attached to a square metal frame over board to collect Neuston (stuff that lives a the air-water interface) by dragging it just under the surface. After 10 minutes we pull it back up. The net is formed like a pyramide with a filter-tube on the bottom - we hose down the net to make sure everything gets stuck in there.
Then we prep the "bongos". It's to big circular wooden frames with long net-hoses attached to them, again with a filter-tube thingie on the bottom to catch everything. We drop those and the pull them out as well.
Once we've got all of that we go to the back of the ship were we filter out the water and put all the "goodies" into jars - of course everything gets carefully labeled. The plankton stuff is mostly just green gook. The Neuson can have teeny-tiny crabs and fish (we're talking the fraction of a size of your fingernail). Before we close the jars we add some formaldehyde to preserve everything (later it will be transferred to ethanol).
I was holding up one of the more "exciting" jars checking out the contents. When I realized some poor grad (or more likely undergrad) is going to spend hours if not days identifying all this stuff under a micrsoscope.
Well, I hope they have fun with that. I'll be content to stay on a boat!

Why always me?

So here I am in the middle of the Gulf. It wasn't too easy getting here though.
I took the train from Stony Brook to Jamaica then hopped onto the Airtrain to get to JFK. There I hopped onto an airplane to Charlotte in South Carolina. We were late taking off, and then getting in we played the famous game of taxiing all around the runways - they gave the familiar "check your front pouch for layouts of the airport" so that we could find our connecting gates. As time ticked down and my comfortable two hour layover dwindled I caught myself thinking - well I wish it was an airport like O'Hare or Frankfurt or even JFK which I "know", that way I'd should be able to find my gate more quickly.
When I finally got off the airplane with half an hour to find my gate I learned two things:
a) I have been to Charlotte - it's the airport with the rocking chairs in one of the main concourses.
b) Running all those sprints the past two weeks in rugby practice has paid off.
I got to my gate even before they were boarding and before I knew it I was in an itty-bitty airplane headed to Gulfport. I even managed to get there with my checked luggage and all!
I met up with my Aunt and Uncle and we headed towards New Orleans. I had a great weekend of catching up with my family "down South":
We paddled through the bayou (no alligators, just a few crabs and cranes).
We drove through New Orleans (surprising how closely together you have nicely renovated houses/properties and ones still bearing Xs and numbers put there by the military).
We walked through downtown New Orleans (I like it... I should go back someday to explore more).
We even walked down Bourbon Street (Been there, done that. I'm good now - and I certainly don't need to go back during Marti Gras!)
And then too soon we said good-bye.
The shark survey is run out of a lab in Pascagoula, MS and so there was a van driving from there to Galveston, TX were we joined the OREGON II for the final leg of the survey which should take us back to Pascagoula by the end of September.
Now I've seen a lot of Louisiana and quite a bit of Texas and after 6hours we made it to the port. Ports nowadays are "pseudo-supersecure": There are all kinds of rules and regulations (quite strict actually) about who can come in how and when and we'd all forwarded are names and ID numbers to the ship who put us on a list which was then given to the gate. Guess who was the only person who somehow didn't manage to be put on that gate list?
Yes, yours truly. We spent almost half an hour going over lists and talking to the ship and finally the security guard said: It's no big deal. I can let all of you through, the young lady (yes that's me) will just have to stay here until you've added her to the list and emailed it to the gate.
Yes, I did eventually make it onto the ship but not before I spent half an hour sitting in the guardhouse watching football, flipping through "Guns and Ammo" magazines and feeling very Texan.

Off shark counting...

I'm off to the Gulf to count some sharks as part of a yearly NOAA survey. You can track my where abouts on the NOAA ship tracker - I'll be on the Oregon II.
For those of you worried about the whole shark-bit of this expedition, I was checking out a shark book and found this little tid-bit of information:
" According to figures published by the New York City Health Department, for every person around the world bitten by a shark, 25 people are actually bitten by New Yorkers."

High on happiness and adrenaline...

Last night around 11pm, I was sitting at the kitchen table with one of my finally-returned-housemates reading through stacks of papers with unbelievable energy and chatting when I realized: "I am totally high on happiness and adrenaline". I had just come back from a rugby practice which I will admit turned even my legs to jelly (the college team for whatever reason believes that I don't ever get sore... EVER!) but I was still going strong on a high from running around so much.
And most of you have heard the news - I passed all my comprehensive exams (qualifying exams for my PhD)! Yes, it is going to take some time to wipe this big grin off of my face. I realized that with the end of this semester I will have all my requirements complete: I finished my core classes and the comps and should know all about biological, chemical, physical and geological oceanography (or at least where to look for information in that area!), I've taken my required amount of extra classes, will be going out into the field (A LOT!) this semester which goes well beyond our field work requirement. And, which I am quite excited about, this semester I am doing my Teaching Practicum, which mean I will actually be giving two or three lectures in front of an undergrad class of over 100 students!
Which is what I dived into right after finishing up my oral exams and matter of fact I need to get back to...