A Buoy in its Environment

Some of my overachieving coworkers started a small photo club--they have taken some really fantastic photos as a result. The theme this month is "Environmental Portrait." As I sat watching for bubbles, providing surface support for my underwater coworkers, the float we had left to mark our study site caught my eye with its simplicity. Its beautiful movement, as it danced about on the surface of the water, gently urged by a combination of the dying breeze and the shifting current, seemed to represent it in its environment to perfection.

Roll On Columbia, Roll On

I spent the week in one of those places people are lucky to experience at some point in their lives: the dynamic, churning, and turbid waters of the Columbia River estuary. And I mean really spent the week in the estuary, out on the boat and diving in those challenging waters. As my wise friend Earl told me, "I spent a lot of time in my career diving in the Columbia River and I can't say that I ever thought one of those dives was enjoyable." That pretty much sums up life in the water. But while bobbing around on the boat, I have to say there are few places I'd have rather been this week...given the absolutely perfect weather we had.

The mouth of the Columbia River is notorious for its sea conditions, and I can say from experience, that the reputation is well deserved. On my very first foray into the belly of the beast, running from Ilwaco, WA, we got just past the famed Cape Disappointment Coast Guard Station before sliding down the back side of some 16' swell, regaining steerage, and turning 180, heading right back into the same channel we had just left. But this week was one of those rare stretches of 5 days in a row without fog, dicey chop, gale force winds, rain, or rollers threatening everyone's enjoyment, and for that I was quite grateful!

Every time I'm down in the Columbia River estuary, I can't help but think about what it must have been like for Lewis and Clark to have come barreling down the river--how horrible (and typical!) the weather was that they experienced, but how extraordinarily beautiful the estuary and its surrounding hillsides (free of clear-cuts and development at that time) must have been, with enormous trees and marsh-laced shores. It's not hard to imagine, when on the stretch of river between Ilwaco, WA and Astoria, OR--take away the Astoria bridge and look towards Washington (as in the photo below), and it looks pretty wild (okay, save for the aforementioned clearcuts). A lot has changed, but the wildness of the river is still impressive.


Diving in the estuary is quite an experience. With visibility about on par with the clarity of a good clam chowder (New England, of course) and currents that can severely challenge a diver's yaw (let alone leg muscles), it is quite an undertaking just to get in the water and get headed in the right direction. Add in the promise of 4-5' sturgeon bumping into you either for fun or because they can't see a damn thing either, derelict gear and pilings, and deadheads, and really, it just doesn't seem like all that much of a picnic. But, I stand by my tenet that a bad day in the field is still better than a good day dealing with bean counters and bureaucracy, and overall, things didn't seem so bad...and besides, the bigger the challenge, the greater the feeling of success once the job is done, whether diving in the Columbia, climbing mountains, or crafting a respected piece of research. Of course, I probably could have done without seeing both the sunrise and sunset while doing my job--we did have some of the longest days of the year, and at 47 deg. N, those are not short--but you can't have everything!

Summer...where are you???

Here we are, on the verge of the summer solstice, and I'm still wearing jeans, long sleeved shirts, and fleece products...what is wrong with this picture? I am ready for some heat, some real heat, some it's-so-hot-I'll-kick-Mark's-butt-in-tennis kind of heat, some I'm-so-hot-I-can't-sleep kind of heat...okay maybe not that much heat, but some nice NW heat would be a pleasure. Sadly, judging by my recent trip to www.wrh.noaa.gov I'm pretty sure we're in for more of the same moderate drizzle, or the threat there-of, and nothing resembling shorts-and-flip-flops, kick-back-with-a-cold-Pilsner kind of weather. Bummer dude.

But, the flower garden does seem to be pretty happy--not a whole lot that's needed to suffer the dry heat yet, so the flowers are looking good and the blossoms on everything from lupine to lavender seem to be going strong. Even the lithodora has lingering flowers.











And there have been a few bees around--I'm still holding out for the glorious swarms that come to attend to the English Lavender once it's in full bloom--but the few brave souls venturing out in the early summer chill have earned my respect.

Unfortunately, the veggies aren't faring as well as the flowers, but there is some hope. The green globe artichoke I planted last year survived the winter and is off to a brilliant start, with lots of small artichokes popping up on its stems, like flames on a candelabra. Last year the two measly artichokes the plant produced were infested with earwigs--nothing says unappetizing like an earwig! This year, the plant seems to be holding it own.

With the summer off to a cold start, I think I'm glad I ran out of energy when it came to prepping tomatoes. I think tomatoes are going to be a losing NW proposition this year, unless we see a spectacularly warm end to the summer. For now, I'll just be grateful for the few things that are showing promise. And perhaps it won't be long before I can reap the benefits of the vigorous strawberry crop...there, under some big green leaves, were a few bright red berries, portending the bounty to come.

Celtics Bring Home the Championship!

Photo submitted to the Boston Globe by Dan Gillette

And...they did it!
Congrats Celts!
As this young fan points out, we've been on quite a run!

Giddy About Boston Sports

With the Celtics poised to take home the NBA Championship, I couldn't help but get a little giddy about the successes of my Boston sports teams over the last 12 months!  I may be living on the Left Coast, but by birthright, I am a Bostonian (of course, if I say this too loudly in Maine, where I spent much of my youth, I'll forever be cast as "From Away").  

It all began last October when the Sox clinched the World Series for the second time in a few years!  I have to admit that the 2004 victory brought tears to my eyes, sitting alone in my house at the time, with not a proper sports bar in sight for 50 miles.  It was quite a moment.  I would get high fives from other Sox fans whenever I wore my hat after that.  In 2007, it was a little less spectacular, but no less of an achievement.  Perhaps absence does make the heart grow fonder, which is why the '04 victories were so darn cool.  And currently at the top of the AL East, with some fine youngsters making quality contributions, they may, once again, find themselves in the playoffs.

With the World Series wrapped up, the Patriots marched their way to the Super Bowl...okay, there were some allegations of less-than-sportsman-like spying, but I don't know enough to make a statement one way or another.  And in general, despite loving the games, I abhor the business and payroll of professional sports--talk about disproportionate!  At any rate, the Patriots had their Super Bowl showing, and though not victorious, they made it there.

With that showdown done-for, the Celtics were at the top of their game, playing .600+ basketball and seeming like they finally had it together after several, uh, less than spectacular years.  With some dicey moments in the earlier play-off rounds, the Celts had an amazing come-back victory over their long-standing rivals, and it seems like the momentum is with them to hold yet another Duck Boat Rally along the streets of Boston!

Lest I forget the Bruins--they made the playoffs but could probably use a little improvement.

For now, it's good to be a Boston fan!

North by Northwest

A month after finding ourselves at the southernmost point in the 50 states, we happened upon the most northwesterly point in the continental 48: Cape Flattery, WA. With time in this beautiful part of the world growing shorter, my best buddy and my salty buddy and I headed for the coast to do some 'splorin'.


We set out to do a little walking, beach strolling, and sightseeing. When we got to Hobuck Beach, our destination for the night, it was clear that we had brought a lack of gear. Well, okay there were the few things that got accidentally left behind by the car-packer (like my boots and warm clothes and the like), but there was some gear we didn't even plan on bringing that was lacking--big gear, like surfboards and kayaks and stuff. A week ago, as Rhody Run XXX took place just beyond the reaches of my driveway, I was all verklempt as I watched the runners pass by, wondering why I didn't drag my own ass out there to join the fun (and pain). Now with a lack of toys at the beach, I had the same feeling. Yes, beach walks are great, but surfing sounded a lot more exciting--especially given the wee little waves that would have been perfect for me. But, once the sun started to set, showing all kinds of glorious reds, the beach in and of itself was enough of an attraction. As another happy beach-goer shouted out, "Yea Nature!"


We definitely were not in luxury car-camping mode, but had remembered some foam pads for sitting on the ground and toasting marshmallows, and The Salty One was more happy roaming around seeing what everyone else was eating for dinner than she would have been curled up on a comfy bed. Red sky at night dawned crystal clear blue the next morning and we set off on a wake-up stroll to the far north of the beach. The highlight was a gaggle of black oystercatchers hanging out by some rocks, protected from the exuberant dog by an outgoing tide and a rivulet with a good current--they seemed to know they had it made.

Next stop was Shi Shi Beach and a muddy walk out to do some tidepooling. The tide was low and we had lots of area to explore. Gooseneck barnacles, anemones, and lots of mussels were the extent of our wildlife sitings, but that's pretty much what you expect on the rocky coast.


We rounded out the trip with a walk out to Cape Flattery with its stunning view of Tatoosh Island and awesome cliffs, complete with pelagic cormorants flying in and out. This is truly one of those magical places, despite the well-beaten path to the viewing platform.

The drive back along the north coast couldn't have been more beautiful, with patches of snow lingering on Vancouver Island, clear blue skies, and the Straits about as calm as they get. A few stops along the way to let the salty dog run around and commune with the copepods completed the quick trip.

"I want to say one word to you. Just one word...Plastics."

On a recent trip to Ka Lae, the southernmost point in the US on the Big Island of Hawaii, I found out how truly disgusting we, as a species, can be. After driving for what seemed like forever to get there, passing lots of fields, derelict and working wind farms, as well as some seemingly super-secret alien communication devices, we watched a few fishermen at work and the building seas crashing on the rocks and headed out on a walk for Papakolea Beach, the green sand beach. It was about mid-day when we set out with our friends over some dry, dry ground with not a swimming spot in site. I love the heat, but I only love the heat when there's a promise of a refreshing dip--with the current sea state, that didn't seem like much of an option. But we walked.

We hadn't walked 15 minutes when we veered off the jeep trail onto a lava rock beach trail. We were drawn in by a big green mass piled up on the beach. We had happened upon what must be the dirtiest beach in America. The green mass was an entangled wad of derelict fishing nets--monofilament, twine, plastic webbing, you name it, it was in there. Along with millions of tiny little chunks of plastic. That's right, Benjamin, "Plastics."

Now, as one who dabbles in the marine realm more than just occasionally and more than just as an innocent bystander, of course I have heard a lot about plastics in the ocean. But, as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words, so here goes:

I really had to see it with my own eyes. An instant depression hit me as we started to walk along this line of litter--it made me sad. Here we were miles from anywhere (a later look at Google Earth showed more than 1500 kilometers between us and the next closest landmasses beyond Hawaii, Johnston and Palmyra Atolls), and the filthiness of my fellow beings was overwhelming. So much for the last great places being in the middle of nowhere, "untouched" by human development.

A lot has been written about the different Pacific gyres and the "Garbage Patch" of plastic somewhere between Midway and the Pacific Coast of the mainland US. But we weren't even in that zone! The isolation of the beach we were on probably means limited clean-up by local groups, so whether the accumulated material is any more profound than on any of the surrounding beaches is unclear, but the sheer volume of plastic particles and unrecognizable chunks of items discarded left me wondering where the hell it's all coming from. Can this much plastic be discarded at sea? Or is it washing down rivers from points in the US, Mexico, Asia, etc.? One thing is for certain: plastic is persistent.

There are many scholarly articles about the implications of plastics in the environment, and specifically the ocean, ranging from impacts on seabird foraging (Copello and Quintana 2003) to plastics serving as a vector for dispersing harmful algal blooms (Maso et al. 2002). Those with a penchant for primary sources have no shortage to choose from, including articles in the more esteemed journals. For those less inclined toward small print, difficult to pronounce words, and agonizing layouts, many great blogs have pointed out the problem, including Fake Plastic Fish (http://www.fakeplasticfish.com) which is dedicated to the issue. But I can't say that this subject is really on the collective radar at this point judging by the lack of pressure to reduce the use of plastics.

As part of my strategy for the 2008 field season (whereby I spend my off-hours in enumerable crappy hotels with the same horrendous version of the American breakfast and too many sketchy pillows), I have pledged to pick up trash from the beaches and marshes I'm working in and dispose of it in the nearest trash receptacle. Yes, perhaps when you're out enjoying a day waterskiing with the boys, it's easier to toss the soda bottle overboard, but not only is that littering, it's contributing to the ugliness of some far flung beach that I would like to think of as "untouched." And if we, as scientists working in the marine realm, collectively did our part to clean up after others, we'd probably prevent a fair bit of trash from choking the very subjects of our studies.

Copello, S. and F. Quintana. 2003. Marine debris ingestion by Southern Giant Petrels and its potential relationship with fisheries in the Southern Atlantic Ocean. Marine Pollution Bulletin 46 (11): 1513-1515.

Maso, M., E. Garces, F. Pages, and J. Camp. 2002. Drifting plastic debris as a potential vector for dispersing Harmful Algal Bloom (HAB) Species. Scientia Marina 67 (1): 107-111.