The Intersection of Science and Politics

By Alexa Kownacki, Ph.D. Student, OSU Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

As much as I try to keep politics out of my science vocabulary, there are some ties between the two that cannot be severed. Often, science in the United States is very linked to the government because funding can be dependent on federal, state, and/or local government decisions. Therefore, it is part of our responsibility as scientists to be, at least, informed on governmental proceedings.

The United States has one agency that is particularly important to those of us conducting marine science: the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA). NOAA’s mission is science, service, and stewardship with three major components:

  1. To understand and predict changes in climate, weather, oceans and coasts
  2. To share that knowledge and information with others
  3. To conserve and manage coastal and marine ecosystems and resources
noaa org chart
Organizational Chart of NOAA. (Image source: OrgCharting)

Last year, the U.S. Senate confirmed Retired Rear Admiral Timothy Gallaudet, Ph.D., as the Assistant Secretary of Commerce for Oceans and Atmosphere for the Department of Commerce in NOAA. This position is an appointment by the current President of the United States, and is tasked with overseeing the daily functions and the strategic and operational future of NOAA. NOAA oversees the National Marine Fisheries Service (NMFS), which is an agency responsible for the stewardship and management of the nation’s living marine resources. NMFS is a major player when it comes to marine science, particularly through the determination of priorities for research and management of marine species and habitats within the United States’ exclusive economic zone (EEZ).

In dark blue, the United States’ Exclusive Economic zones, surrounding land masses in green. (Figure by K. Laws)

Recently, I had the opportunity to hear Dr. Gallaudet speak to scientists who work for, or in conjunction with, a NMFS office. After the 16% budget cut from the fiscal year 2017 to 2018, many marine scientists are concerned about how budget changes will impact research. Therefore, I knew Dr. Gallaudet’s visit would provide insight about the future of marine science in the United States.

Dr. Gallaudet holds master’s and doctoral degrees in oceanography from Scripps Institution of Oceanography, as well as a bachelor’s degree from the United States Naval Academy. He spent 32 years in the Navy before stepping into his current role as Assistant Secretary. Throughout the meeting, Dr. Gallaudet emphasized his leadership motto: All in, All Good, and All for One.

Dr. Gallaudet also spoke about where he sees NOAA moving towards: the private sector.

A prominent conservation geneticist asked Dr. Gallaudet how NOAA can better foster advanced degree-seeking students. The geneticist commented that a decade ago there were 10-12 PhD students in this one science center alone. Today, there is “maybe one”. Dr. Gallaudet responded that the science centers should start reaching out to private industry. In response to other questions, he continued to redirect scientists toward United States-based corporations that could join forces with government agencies. He believes that if NMFS scientists share data and projects with local biotechnology, medical, and environmental companies, the country can foster positive relationships with industry. Dr. Gallaudet commented that the President wants to create these win-win situations: where the US government pairs with for-profit companies. It is up to us, as the scientists, how we make those connections.

As scientists, we frequently avoid heated political banter in the hopes of maintaining an objective and impartial approach to our research. However, these lines can be blurred. Much of our science depends on political decisions that mold our future, including how funding is allocated and what goals are prioritized. In 2010, Science Magazine published an online article, “Feeding your Research into the Policy Debate” where Elisabeth Pain highlighted the interdisciplinary nature of science and policy. In Pain’s interview with Troy Benn, a PhD student in Urban Ecology at the time, Benn comments that he learned just how much scientists play a role in policy and how research contributes to policy deliberations. Sometimes our research becomes of interest to politicians and sometimes it is the other way around.

From my experiences collaborating with government entities, private corporations, and nonprofit organizations, I realize that science-related policy is imperative. California established a non-profit, the California Ocean Science Trust (OST), for the specific objective supporting management decisions with the best science and bridging science and policy. A critical analysis of the OST by Pietri et al., “Using Science to Inform Controversial Issues: A Case Study from the California Ocean Science Trust”, matches legislation with science. For example, the Senate Bill (SB) 1319, better known as the California Ocean Protection Act (COPA), calls for “decisions informed by good science” and to “advance scientific understanding”. Science is explicitly written into legislation and I think that is a call to action. If an entire state can mobilize resources to create a team of interdisciplinary experts, I can inform myself on the politics that have potential to shape my future and the future of my science.

An image of the NOAA ship Bell M. Shimada transiting between stations. Multiple members of the GEMM Lab conducted surveys from this NOAA vessel in 2018. (Image source: Alexa Kownacki)

Why Feeling Stupid is Great: How stupidity fuels scientific progress and discovery

By Alexa Kownacki, Ph.D. Student, OSU Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

It all started with a paper. On Halloween, I sat at my desk, searching for papers that could answer my questions about bottlenose dolphin metabolism and realized I had forgotten to check my email earlier. In my inbox, there was a new message with an attachment from Dr. Leigh Torres to the GEMM Lab members, saying this was a “must-read” article. The suggested paper was Martin A. Schwartz’s 2008 essay, “The importance of stupidity in scientific research”, published in the Journal of Cell Science, highlighted universal themes across science. In a single, powerful page, Schwartz captured my feelings—and those of many scientists: the feeling of being stupid.

For the next few minutes, I stood at the printer and absorbed the article, while commenting out loud, “YES!”, “So true!”, and “This person can see into my soul”. Meanwhile, colleagues entered my office to see me, dressed in my Halloween costume—as “Amazon’s Alexa”, talking aloud to myself. Coincidently, I was feeling pretty stupid at that moment after just returning from a weekly meeting, where everyone asked me questions that I clearly did not have the answers to (all because of my costume). This paper seemed too relevant; the timing was uncanny. In the past few weeks, I have been writing my PhD research proposal —a requirement for our department— and my goodness, have I felt stupid. The proposal outlines my dissertation objectives, puts my work into context, and provides background research on common bottlenose dolphin health. There is so much to know that I don’t know!

Alexa dressed as “Amazon Alexa” on Halloween at her office in San Diego, CA.

When I read Schwartz’s 2008 paper, there were a few takeaway messages that stood out:

  1. People take different paths. One path is not necessarily right nor wrong. Simply, different. I compared that to how I split my time between OSU and San Diego, CA. Spending half of the year away from my lab and my department is incredibly challenging; I constantly feel behind and I miss the support that physically being with other students provides. However, I recognize the opportunities I have in San Diego where I work directly with collaborators who teach and challenge me in new ways that bring new skills and perspective.

    Image result for different ways
    (Image source: St. Albert’s Place)
  2. Feeling stupid is not bad. It can be a good feeling—or at least we should treat it as being a positive thing. It shows we have more to learn. It means that we have not reached our maximum potential for learning (who ever does?). While writing my proposal I realized just how little I know about ecotoxicology, chemistry, and statistics. I re-read papers that are critical to understanding my own research, like “Nontargeted biomonitoring of halogenated organic compounds in two ecotypes of bottlenose dolphins (Tursiops truncatus) from the Southern California bight” (2014) by Shaul et al. and “Bottlenose dolphins as indicators of persistent organic pollutants in the western north Atlantic ocean and northern gulf of Mexico” (2011) by Kucklick et al. These articles took me down what I thought were wormholes that ended up being important rivers of information. Because I recognized my knowledge gap, I can now articulate the purpose and methods of analysis for specific compounds that I will conduct using blubber samples of common bottlenose dolphins

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    Image source: memegenerator.net
  3. Drawing upon experts—albeit intimidating—is beneficial for scientific consulting as well as for our mental health; no one person knows everything. That statement can bring us together because when people work together, everyone benefits. I am also reminded that we are our own harshest critics; sometimes our colleagues are the best champions of our own successes. It is also why historical articles are foundational. In the hunt for the newest technology and the latest and greatest in research, it is important to acknowledge the basis for discoveries. My data begins in 1981, when the first of many researchers began surveying the California coastline for common bottlenose dolphins. Geographic information systems (GIS) were different back then. The data requires conversions and investigative work. I had to learn how the data were collected and how to interpret that information. Therefore, it should be no surprise that I cite literature from the 1970s, such as “Results of attempts to tag Atlantic Bottlenose dolphins, (Tursiops truncatus)” by Irvine and Wells. Although published in 1972, the questions the authors tried to answer are very similar to what I am looking at now: how are site fidelity and home ranges impacted by natural and anthropogenic processes. While Irvine and Wells used large bolt tags to identify individuals, my project utilizes much less invasive techniques (photo-identification and blubber biopsies) to track animals, their health, and their exposures to contaminants.

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    (Image source: imgflip.com)
  4. Struggling is part of the solution. Science is about discovery and without the feeling of stupidity, discovery would not be possible. Feeling stupid is the first step in the discovery process: the spark that fuels wanting to explore the unknown. Feeling stupid can lead to the feeling of accomplishment when we find answers to those very questions that made us feel stupid. Part of being a student and a scientist is identifying those weaknesses and not letting them stop me. Pausing, reflecting, course correcting, and researching are all productive in the end, but stopping is not. Coursework is the easy part of a PhD. The hard part is constantly diving deeper into the great unknown that is research. The great unknown is simultaneously alluring and frightening. Still, it must be faced head on. Schwartz describes “productive stupidity [as] being ignorant by choice.” I picture this as essentially blindly walking into the future with confidence. Although a bit of an oxymoron, it resonates the importance of perseverance and conviction in the midst of uncertainty.

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    (Image source: Redbubble)

Now I think back to my childhood when stupid was one of the forbidden “s-words” and I question whether society had it all wrong. Maybe we should teach children to acknowledge ignorance and pursue the unknown. Stupid is a feeling, not a character flaw. Stupidity is important in science and in life. Fascination and emotional desires to discover new things are healthy. Next time you feel stupid, try running with it, because more often than not, you will learn something.

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Alexa teaching about marine mammals to students ages 2-6 and learning from educators about new ways to engage young students. San Diego, CA in 2016. (Photo source: Lori Lowder)

Remote Sensing Applications

By Leila Lemos, PhD candidate

Fisheries and Wildlife Department, OSU

 

I am finally starting my 3rd and last year of my PhD. Just a year left and yet so many things to do. As per department requirements, I still need to take some class credits, but what classes could I take? In this short amount of time it is important to focus on my research project and on what could help me better understand the many branches of the project and what could improve my analyses. Thinking of that, both my advisor (Dr. Leigh G. Torres) and I agreed that it would be useful for me to take a class on remote sensing. So, I could learn more about this field, as well as try to include some remote sensing analyses in my project, such as sea surface temperature (SST) and chlorophyll (i.e., as a productivity indicator) conditions over the years we have collected data on gray whales off the Oregon coast.

 

Our photogrammetry data indicates that whales gradually increased their body condition over the feeding seasons of 2016 and 2018, while 2017 is different. Whales were still looking skinny in the middle of the season, and we were not collecting many fecal samples up to that point (indicating not much feeding). These findings made us wonder if this was related to delayed seasonal upwelling events and consequently low prey availability. These questions are what motivated me the most to join this class so that we might be able to link environmental correlates with our observations of gray whale body condition.

Figure 01: Skinny body condition state of the gray whale “Pancake” in August 2017.
Source: Leila S. Lemos

 

If we stop to think about what remote sensing is, we have already been implementing this method in our project since the beginning, as my favorite definition for remote sensing is “the art of collecting information of objects or phenomenon without touching it”. So, yes, the drone is a type of sensor that remotely collects information of objects (in this case, whales).

Figure 02: Drone remotely collecting information of a whale in September 2018. Drone in detail. Collected under NOAA/NMFS permit #16111.
Source: Leila Lemos

 

However, satellites, all the way up in the space, are also remotely sensing the Earth and its objects and phenomena. Even from thousands of km above Earth, these sensors are capable of generating a great amount of detailed data that is easily and freely accessible (i.e., NASA, NOAA), and can be used for multiple applications in different fields of study. Satellites are also able to collect data from remote areas like the Antarctica and the Arctic, as well as other areas that are not easily reached by humans. One important application of the use of satellite imagery is wildlife monitoring.

For example, satellite data was used to detect variation in the abundance of Weddell seals (Leptonychotes weddellii) in Erebus Bay, Antarctica (LaRue et al., 2011). Because this is a well-studied seal population, the object of this study was to test if satellite imagery could produce reliable abundance estimates. The authors used high-resolution (0.6 m) satellite imagery (from satellites Quick-Bird-2 and WorldView-1) to compare counts from the ground with counts from satellite images in the same locations at the same time. This study demonstrated a reliable methodology for further studies to replicate.

Figure 03: WorldView-1 image (0.6 m resolution) of Weddell seals hauled out east of Inaccessible Island, Erebus Bay, Antarctica.
Source: LaRue et al. (2011).

 

Satellite imagery was also applied to estimate colony sizes of Adélie penguins in Antarctica (LaRue et al., 2014). High-resolution (0.6 m) satellite imagery combined with spectral analysiswas used to estimate the sizes of the penguin breeding colonies. Ground counts were also used in order to check the reliability of the applied method. The authors then created a model to predict the abundance of breeding pairs as a function of the habitat, which was identified terrain slope as an important component of nesting density.

The identification of whales using satellite imagery is also possible. Fretwell et al. (2014)pioneered this method by successfully identifing Southern Right Whales (Eubalaena australis) in the Golfo Nuevo, Península Valdés, in Argentina in satellite images. By using very high-resolution satellite imagery (50 cm resolution) and a water penetrating coastal band that was able to see deeper into the water column, the researchers were able to successfully identify and count the whales (Fig. 04). The importance of this study was very significant, since this species was extensively hunted from the 17ththrough to the 20thcentury. Since then, the species has shown a strong recovery, but population estimates are still at <15% of historical estimates. Thus, being able to use new tools to identify, count and monitor individuals in this recovering population is a great development, especially in remote and hard to reach areas.

Figure 04: Identification of Southern Right Whales by using imagery from the WorldView2 satellite in the Golfo Nuevo Bay, Península Valdés, Argentina.
Source: Fretwell et al. (2014).

 

Polar bears (Ursus maritimus) have also been studied in the Foxe Basin, in Nunavut and Quebec, Canada (LaRue et al., 2015). Researchers used high-resolution satellite imagery in an attempt to identify and count the bears, but spectral signature differences between bears and other objects were insufficient to yield useful results. Therefore, researchers developed an automated image differencing, also known as change detection, that identifies differences between remotely sensed images collected at different times and “subtract of one image from another”. This method correctly identified nearly 90% of the bears. The technique also generated false positives, but this problem can be corrected by a manual review.

Figure 05 shows the difference in resolution of two types of satellite imagery, the panchromatic (0.6 m resolution) and the multispectral (2.4 m resolution). LaRue et al. (2015)decided not to use the multispectral imagery due to resolution constraints.

Figure 05: Polar Bears on panchromatic (0.6 m resolution) and multispectral (2.4 m resolution) imagery.
Source: LaRue et al. (2015).

 

A more recent study is being conducted by my fellow OSU Fisheries and Wildlife graduate student, Jane Dolliveron breeding colonies of three species of North Pacific albatrosses (Phoebastria immutabilis, Phoebastria nigripes, and Phoebastria albatrus)(Dolliver et al., 2017). Jane is using high-resolution multispectral satellite imagery (DigitalGlobe WorldView-2 and -3) and image processing techniques to enumerate the albatrosses. They are also using albatross species at multiple reference colonies in Hawaii and Japan (Fig. 06) to determine species identification accuracy and required correction factor(s). This will allow scientists to accurately count unknown populations on the Senkakus, which are uninhabited islands controlled by Japan in the East China Sea.

Figure 06: Satellite image of a colony of short-tailed albatrosses (Phoebastria albatrus) in Torishima, Japan, 2016.
Source: Satellite image provided by Jane Dolliver.

 

Using satellite imagery to count seals, penguins, whales, bears and albatrosses is just the start of this rapidly advancing technology. Techniques and resolutions are continuously improving. Methods can also be applied to many other endangered species, especially in remote areas, providing data on presence, abundance, annual productivity, population estimates and trends, changes in distribution, and breeding ground usage.

Other than directly monitoring wildlife, satellite images can also provide information on the environmental variables that can be related to wildlife presence, abundance, productivity and distribution.

Gentemann et al. (2017), for example, used satellite data from NASA to analyze SST variations along the west coast of the United States from 2002 to 2016. The NASA Jet Propulsion Laboratory produces global, daily, 1 km, multiscale ultra-high resolution, motion-compensated analysis of SST, and incorporates SSTs from eight different satellites. Researchers were able to identify warmer than usual SSTs (also called anomalies) along the Washington, Oregon, and California coasts from January 2014 to August 2016 (Fig.07) relative to previous years. This marine heat wave started in the Gulf of Alaska and ended in Southern California, where SST reached a maximum temperature anomaly of 6.2°C, causing major disturbances and substantial economic impacts.

Figure 07: Monthly SST anomalies in the West Coast of United States, from January 2014 to August 2016.
Source: Gentemann et al. (2017).

 

Changes in SST and winds may alter events such as the coastal upwelling that supplies nutrients to sustain a whole food chain. A marine heat-wave event as described by Gentemann et al. (2017)could have significant impacts on the health of the marine ecosystem in the subsequent season (Gentemann et al., 2017).

These findings may even relate to our questions regarding the poor gray whale body condition we noticed in 2017: this marine heat wave that lasted until August 2016 along the US west coast could have impacted the ecosystem in the subsequent season. However, I must conduct a more detailed study to determine if this heat wave was related or if another oceanographic process was involved.

So, whether remotely sensed data is generated by satellites, drones, thermal imagery, robots (as I previously wrote about), or another type of technology, it can have important  and informative applications to monitor wildlife or environmental variables associated with their ecology and biology. We can take advantage of remotely sensed technology to aid wildlife conservation efforts.

 

References

Dolliver, J., et al., Multispectral processing of high resolution satellite imagery to determine the abundance of nesting albatross. Ecological Society of America, Portland, OR, United States., 2017.

Fretwell, P. T., et al., 2014. Whales from Space: Counting Southern Right Whales by Satellite. Plos One. 9,e88655.

Gentemann, C. L., et al., 2017. Satellite sea surface temperatures along the West Coast of the United States during the 2014–2016 northeast Pacific marine heat wave. Geophysical Research Letters. 44,312-319.

LaRue, M. A., et al., 2014. A method for estimating colony sizes of Adélie penguins using remote sensing imagery. Polar Biology. 37,507-517.

LaRue, M. A., et al., 2011. Satellite imagery can be used to detect variation in abundance of Weddell seals (Leptonychotes weddellii) in Erebus Bay, Antarctica. Polar Biology. 34,1727–1737.

LaRue, M. A., et al., 2015. Testing Methods for Using High-Resolution Satellite Imagery to Monitor Polar Bear Abundance and Distribution. Wildlife Society Bulletin. 39,772-779.

 

 

 

 

 

Are bacteria important? What do we get by analyzing microbiomes?

By Leila Lemos, PhD candidate, Fisheries and Wildlife Department, OSU

As previously mentioned in one of Florence’s blog posts, the GEMM Lab holds monthly lab meetings, where we share updates about our research and discuss articles and advances in our field, among other activities.

In a past lab meeting we were asked to bring an article to discuss that had inspired us in the past to conduct research in the marine field or in our current position. I brought to the meeting a literature review regarding methodologies to overcome the challenges of studying conservation physiology in large whales [1]. This article discusses different non-invasive or minimally invasive matrices (e.g., feces, blow, skin/blubber) that can be gathered from whales, and what types of analyses could be carried out, as well as their pros and cons.

One of the possible analyses that can be performed with fecal samples that was discussed in the article is the gut microflora (i.e., bacterial gut community) via genetic analysis. Since my PhD project analyzes fecal samples to determine/quantify stress responses in gray whales, we have since discussed the possibility of integrating this extra parameter to our analysis.

But… what is the importance of analyzing the gut microflora of a whale? What is the relationship between microflora and stress responses? Should we really use our limited sample size, time and money to work on this extra analysis? In order to be able to answer all of these questions, I began reading some articles of the field to better understand its importance and what kind of research questions this analysis can answer.

The gut of a mammal comprises a natural habitat for a large and dynamic community of bacteria [2] that is first developed in early life. Colonization of facultative bacteria (i.e., aerobic bacteria) begins at birth [3], and later, anaerobic bacteria also colonizes the gut. In humans, at the age of 1 year old, the microbiome should have a stable adult-like signature (Fig. 1).

Figure 01: Development of the microbiome in early life.
Source: [3]

The gut bacterial community is important for the physiology and pathology of its host and plays an important role in mammal digestion and health [2], responsible for many metabolic activities, including:

  • fermentation of non-digestible dietary residue and endogenous mucus [2];
  • recovery of energy [2];
  • recovery of absorbable nutrients [2];
  • cellulose digestion [4];
  • vitamin K synthesis [4];
  • important trophic effects on intestinal epithelia (cell proliferation and differentiation) [2];
  • angiogenesis promotion [4];
  • enteric nerve function [4];
  • immune structure [2];
  • immune function [2];
  • protection of the colonized host against invasion by alien microbes (barrier effect) [2];

Despite all the benefits, the bacterial community might also be potentially harmful when changes in the community composition (i.e., dysbiosis) occur due to the use of antibiotics, illness, stress, aging, lifestyle, bad dietary habits [4], and prolonged food and water deprivation [5]. Thus, potential pathological disorders might emerge when the microbiome community changes, such as allergy, obesity, diabetes, autism, multisystem organ failure, gastrointestinal and prostate cancers, inflammatory bowel diseases (IBD), and cardiovascular diseases [2, 4].

Changes in gut bacterial composition may also alter the brain-gut axis and the central nervous system (CNS) signaling [3]. More specifically, the core pathway affected is the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis, which is activated by physical/psychological stressors. According to a previous study [6], the microbial community in the gut is critical for the development of an appropriate stress response. In addition, the microbial colonization in early life should occur within a certain time window, otherwise an abnormal development of the HPA axis might happen.

However, the gut microbiome can not only affect the HPA axis, but the opposite can also occur [3]. Signaling molecules released by the axis can alter the gastrointestinal (GIT) environment (i.e., motility, secretion, and permeability) [7]. Stress responses, as well as diseases, may also alter the gut permeability, causing the bacteria to cross the epithelial barrier (reducing the overall numbers of bacteria in the gut), activating immune responses that also alter the composition of the bacterial community in the gut [8, 9].

Figure 02: Communication between the brain, gut and microbiome in a healthily and in a stressed or diseased (mucosal inflammation) mammal.
Source: [3]

Thus, when thinking about whales, monitoring of the gut microflora might allow us to detect changes caused by factors such as aging, illness, prolonged food deprivation, and stressful events [2, 5]. However, since these are two-way factors, it is important to find an association between bacterial composition alterations and stressful events, such as the presence of predators (e.g., killer whales), illness (e.g., bad body condition), prolonged food deprivation (e.g., low prey availability and high competition), noise (e.g., noisy vessel traffic, fisheries opening and seismic surveys), and stressful reproductive status (e.g., pregnancy and lactating period). Examination of possible shifts in the gut microflora may be able to detect and be linked to many of these events, and also forecast possible chronic events within the population. In addition, the bacterial community monitoring study could aid in validating the hormone data (i.e., cortisol) we have been working with.

Therefore, the main research questions that arise in this context that can aid in elucidating the stress physiology in gray whales are:

  1. What is the microflora community content in guts of gray whales along the Oregon coast?
  2. Is it possible to detect shifts in the gut microflora from our gray fecal samples over time?
  3. How do gut microflora and cortisol levels correlate?
  4. Am I able to correlate shifts in gut microflora with any of the stressful events listed above?

We can answer so many other questions by analyzing the microbiome of baleen whales. Microbiomes are mainly correlated with host diet [10], so the composition of a microbiome can be associated with specific diets and functional gut capacity, and consequently, be linked to other animal populations, which helps to decode evolutionary questions. Results of a previous study on baleen whale microbiomes [10] point out that whales harbor unique gut microbiomes that are actually similar to those of terrestrial herbivores. Baleen whales and terrestrial herbivores have a shared physical structure of the GIT tract itself (i.e., multichambered foregut) and a shared hole for fermentative metabolisms. The multichambered foregut of baleen whales fosters the maintenance of the gut microbiome that is capable of extracting relatively unavailable nutrients from zooplankton (i.e., chitin, “sea cellulose”).

Figure 03: The similarities between whale and other terrestrial herbivore gut microbiomes: sea and land ruminants.
Source: [11]

Thus, the importance of studying the gut microbiome of a baleen whale is clear. Monitoring of the bacterial community and possible shifts can help us elucidate many questions regarding diet, overall health, stress physiology and evolution. Thinking about my PhD project, it may also help in validating our cortisol level results. I am confident that a microbiome analysis would significantly enhance my studies on the health and ecology of gray whales.

 

References

  1. Hunt, K.E., et al., Overcoming the challenges of studying conservation physiology in large whales: a review of available methods.Conservation Physiology, 2013. 1: p. 1-24.
  2. Guarner, F. and J.-R. Malagelada, Gut flora in health and disease.The Lancet, 2003. 360: p. 512–519.
  3. Grenham, S., et al., Brain–gut–microbe communication in health and disease.Frontiers in Physiology, 2011. 2: p. 1-15.
  4. Zhang, Y., et al., Impacts of Gut Bacteria on Human Health and Diseases.International Journal of Molecular Sciences, 2015. 16: p. 7493-7519.
  5. Bailey, M.T., et al., Stressor exposure disrupts commensal microbial populations in the intestines and leads to increased colonization by Citrobacter rodentium.Infection and Immunity, 2010. 78: p. 1509–1519.
  6. Sudo, N., et al., Postnatal microbial colonization programs the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal system for stress response in mice.The Journal of Physiology, 2004. 558: p. 263–275.
  7. Rhee, S.H., C. Pothoulakis, and E.A. Mayer, Principles and clinical implications of the brain–gut–enteric microbiota axis Nature Reviews Gastroenterology & Hepatology, 2009. 6: p. 306–314.
  8. Kiliaan, A.J., et al., Stress stimulates transepithelial macromolecular uptake in rat jejunum.American Journal of Physiology, 1998. 275: p. G1037–G1044.
  9. Dinan, T.G. and J.F. Cryan, Regulation of the stress response by the gut microbiota: Implications for psychoneuroendocrinology.Psychoneuroendocrinology 2012. 37: p. 1369—1378.
  10. Sanders, J.G., et al., Baleen whales host a unique gut microbiome with similarities to both carnivores and herbivores.Nature Communications, 2015. 6(8285): p. 1-8.
  11. El Gamal, A. Of whales and cows: the baleen whale microbiome revealed. Oceanbites 2016[cited 2018 07/31/2018]; Available from: https://oceanbites.org/of-whales-and-cows-the-baleen-whale-microbiome-revealed/.

 

Big Data: Big possibilities with bigger challenges

By Alexa Kownacki, Ph.D. Student, OSU Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

Did you know that Excel has a maximum number of rows? I do. During Winter Term for my GIS project, I was using Excel to merge oceanographic data, from a publicly-available data source website, and Excel continuously quit. Naturally, I assumed I had caused some sort of computer error. [As an aside, I’ve concluded that most problems related to technology are human error-based.] Therefore, I tried reformatting the data, restarting my computer, the program, etc. Nothing. Then, thanks to the magic of Google, I discovered that Excel allows no more than 1,048,576 rows by 16,384 columns. ONLY 1.05 million rows?! The oceanography data was more than 3 million rows—and that’s with me eliminating data points. This is what happens when we’re dealing with big data.

According to Merriam-Webster dictionary, big data is an accumulation of data that is too large and complex for processing by traditional database management tools (www.merriam-webster.com). However, there are journal articles, like this one from Forbes, that discuss the ongoing debate of how to define “big data”. According to the article, there are 12 major definitions; so, I’ll let you decide what you qualify as “big data”. Either way, I think that when Excel reaches its maximum row capacity, I’m working with big data.

Collecting oceanography data aboard the R/V Shimada. Photo source: Alexa K.

Here’s the thing: the oceanography data that I referred to was just a snippet of my data. Technically, it’s not even MY data; it’s data I accessed from NOAA’s ERDDAP website that had been consistently observed for the time frame of my dolphin data points. You may recall my blog about maps and geospatial analysis that highlights some of the reasons these variables, such as temperature and salinity, are important. However, what I didn’t previously mention was that I spent weeks working on editing this NOAA data. My project on common bottlenose dolphins overlays environmental variables to better understand dolphin population health off of California. These variables should have similar spatiotemporal attributes as the dolphin data I’m working with, which has a time series beginning in the 1980s. Without taking out a calculator, I still know that equates to a lot of data. Great data: data that will let me answer interesting, pertinent questions. But, big data nonetheless.

This is a screenshot of what the oceanography data looked like when I downloaded it to Excel. This format repeats for nearly 3 million rows.

Excel Screen Shot. Image source: Alexa K.

I showed this Excel spreadsheet to my GIS professor, and his response was something akin to “holy smokes”, with a few more expletives and a look of horror. It was not the sheer number of rows that shocked him; it was the data format. Nowadays, nearly everyone works with big data. It’s par for the course. However, the way data are formatted is the major split between what I’ll call “easy” data and “hard” data. The oceanography data could have been “easy” data. It could have had many variables listed in columns. Instead, this data  alternated between rows with variable headings and columns with variable headings, for millions of cells. And, as described earlier, this is only one example of big data and its challenges.

Data does not always come in a form with text and numbers; sometimes it appears as media such as photographs, videos, and audio files. Big data just got a whole lot bigger. While working as a scientist at NOAA’s Southwest Fisheries Science Center, one project brought in over 80 terabytes of raw data per year. The project centered on the eastern north pacific gray whale population, and, more specifically, its migration. Scientists have observed the gray whale migration annually since 1994 from Piedras Blancas Light Station for the Northbound migration, and 2 out of every 5 years from Granite Canyon Field Station (GCFS) for the Southbound migration. One of my roles was to ground-truth software that would help transition from humans as observers to computer as observers. One avenue we assessed was to compare how well a computer “counted” whales compared to people. For this question, three infrared cameras at the GCFS recorded during the same time span that human observers were counting the migratory whales. Next, scientists, such as myself, would transfer those video files, upwards of 80 TB, from the hard drives to Synology boxes and to a different facility–miles away. Synology boxes store arrays of hard drives and that can be accessed remotely. To review, three locations with 80 TB of the same raw data. Once the data is saved in triplet, then I could run a computer program, to detect whale. In summary, three months of recorded infrared video files requires upwards of 240 TB before processing. This is big data.

Scientists on an observation shift at Granite Canyon Field Station in Northern California. Photo source: Alexa K.
Alexa and another NOAA scientist watching for gray whales at Piedras Blancas Light Station. Photo source: Alexa K.

In the GEMM Laboratory, we have so many sources of data that I did not bother trying to count. I’m entering my second year of the Ph.D. program and I already have a hard drive of data that I’ve backed up three different locations. It’s no longer a matter of “if” you work with big data, it’s “how”. How will you format the data? How will you store the data? How will you maintain back-ups of the data? How will you share this data with collaborators/funders/the public?

The wonderful aspect to big data is in the name: big and data. The scientific community can answer more, in-depth, challenging questions because of access to data and more of it. Data is often the limiting factor in what researchers can do because increased sample size allows more questions to be asked and greater confidence in results. That, and funding of course. It’s the reason why when you see GEMM Lab members in the field, we’re not only using drones to capture aerial images of whales, we’re taking fecal, biopsy, and phytoplankton samples. We’re recording the location, temperature, water conditions, wind conditions, cloud cover, date/time, water depth, and so much more. Because all of this data will help us and help other scientists answer critical questions. Thus, to my fellow scientists, I feel your pain and I applaud you, because I too know that the challenges that come with big data are worth it. And, to the non-scientists out there, hopefully this gives you some insight as to why we scientists ask for external hard drives as gifts.

Leila launching the drone to collect aerial images of gray whales to measure body condition. Photo source: Alexa K.
Using the theodolite to collect tracking data on the Pacific Coast Feeding Group in Port Orford, OR. Photo source: Alexa K.

References:

https://support.office.com/en-us/article/excel-specifications-and-limits-1672b34d-7043-467e-8e27-269d656771c3

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/big%20data

How to apply my PhD?

By Leila Lemos, PhD candidate, Fisheries and Wildlife Department

Time has flown. It seems that it was like a month ago that I received the news that I was approved in a public notice from the Brazilian government to study abroad, and began the process of moving to Oregon. But actually almost three years have now passed, and I am starting to wrap up my PhD, since I need to defend it in a little bit more than a year.

Our team is now starting the third and last fieldwork season for my PhD project. I am also working on my study plan to determine the last classes I need to take, and our first manuscripts are ‘in press’ or ‘in prep’ for submission to journals. So, it’s time for me to think about what comes next.

I am from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, and I am studying in the US through a Brazilian government program called Science Without Borders. This program aims to send students abroad to learn new techniques and to develop innovative projects. The projects needed to be original to be approved by the public notice. The main idea is to bring these students back to Brazil, after their PhD completion, to disseminate the acquired knowledge by applying the learned techniques.

My project includes a few novel aspects that allowed for funding by this program. The main focus of my thesis is to develop an endocrinology study of a cetacean species. This was (and still is) a critical field in Brazil, as reported by the “National Action Plan for the conservation of aquatic mammals: Small cetaceans” (2010). According to this Action Plan, cetacean hormonal analyses are rare and of high priority, but there are limited labs with the capacity to study cetacean endocrinology in Brazil. Other limiting factors are the associated analysis costs and a lack of human knowledge and skills. In addition to the hormonal analyses (Figure 1), I am also using other ‘new technologies’ in the project: drones (Figure 2; Video 1) and GoPros (Video 2).

Figure 1: Learning how to perform hormonal analysis at the Seattle Aquarium, WA.
Source: Angela Smith

 

Figure 2: Learning how to fly a drone in Newport, OR.
Source: Florence Sullivan

 

Video 1: Drone flights performed in Newport, OR, during fieldwork in 2016.

* Taken under NOAA/NMFS permit #16111 to John Calambokidis.

 

Video 2: Video of mysid swarms during a GoPro deployment conducted in Port Orford, OR, during fieldwork in 2016.

 

The importance of studying cetacean hormones includes a better understanding of their reproductive cycles (i.e., sex hormones such as progesterone, testosterone and estradiol) and their physiological stress response (i.e., cortisol) to possible threats (e.g., acoustic pollution, contaminants, lack of prey). In addition, through photographs and videos recorded by drones we can conduct photogrammetry analysis to monitoring cetacean body condition, and through GoPro recordings of the water column we can assess prey availability. Changes in both body condition and prey can help us explaining how and why hormone levels vary.

Through my PhD I have obtained skills in hormone analysis, photogrammetry and video prey assessment by studying the logistically accessible and non-threatened gray whale (Eschrichtius robustus). During method development, these features are important to increase sample size and demonstrate feasibility. But now that the methodologies have proven successful, we can start applying them to other species and regions, and under different circumstances, to improve conservation efforts of threatened populations.

Many cetacean species along the Brazilian coast are threatened, particularly from fishing gear and vessel interactions, chemical and noise pollution. By applying the methods we have developed in the GEMM Lab during my PhD to cetacean conservation issues in Brazil, we could enable a great expansion in knowledge across many fields (i.e., endocrinology, behavior, photogrammetry, diet). Additionally, these skills can promote safer work environments (for the scientist and for the object of study) and cheaper work processes. However, many countries, such as Brazil, do not have the infrastructure and access to technologies to conduct these same analyses, as in developed countries like the USA. These technologies, when sold in Brazil, have many taxes on the top of the product that they can become an extra hurdle, due to budget constraints. Thus, there is a need for researchers to adapt these skills and technologies, in the best manner possible, to the reality of the country.

Now that I am starting to think about ‘life after PhD’, I can see myself returning to my country to spread the knowledge, technologies and skills I have gained through these years at OSU to new research projects so that I am able to assist with conservation efforts for the ocean and marine fauna in Brazil.

 

References:

PAN, 2010. Plano de ação nacional para a conservação dos mamíferos aquáticos: pequenos cetáceos / André Silva Barreto … [et al.]; organizadores Claudia Cavalcante Rocha-Campos, Ibsen de Gusmão Câmara, Dan Jacobs Pretto. – Brasília: Instituto Chico Mendes de Conservação da Biodiversidade, Icmbio, 132 p. Em: <http://www.icmbio.gov.br/portal/images/ stories/docs-plano-de-acao/pan-peqs-cetaceos/pan_pequenoscetaceos_web.pdf> Acessado em: 27 de Maio de 2015.

 

The Recipe for a “Perfect” Marine Mammal and Seabird Cruise

By Alexa Kownacki, Ph.D. Student, OSU Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

Science—and fieldwork in particular—is known for its failures. There are websites, blogs, and Twitter pages dedicated to them. This is why, when things go according to plan, I rejoice. When they go even better than expected, I practically tear up from amazement. There is no perfect recipe for a great marine mammal and seabird research cruise, but I would suggest that one would look like this:

 A Great Marine Mammal and Seabird Research Cruise Recipe:

  • A heavy pour of fantastic weather
    • Light on the wind and seas
    • Light on the glare
  • Equal parts amazing crew and good communication
  • A splash of positivity
  • A dash of luck
  • A pinch of delicious food
  • Heaps of marine mammal and seabird sightings
  • Heat to approximately 55-80 degrees F and transit for 10 days along transects at 10-12 knots
The end of another beautiful day at sea on the R/V Shimada. Image source: Alexa K.

The Northern California Current Ecosystem (NCCE) is a highly productive area that is home to a wide variety of cetacean species. Many cetaceans are indicator species of ecosystem health as they consume large quantities of prey from different levels in trophic webs and inhabit diverse areas—from deep-diving beaked whales to gray whales traveling thousands of miles along the eastern north Pacific Ocean. Because cetacean surveys are a predominant survey method in large bodies of water, they can be extremely costly. One alternative to dedicated cetacean surveys is using other research vessels as research platforms and effort becomes transect-based and opportunistic—with less flexibility to deviate from predetermined transects. This decreases expenses, creates collaborative research opportunities, and reduces interference in animal behavior as they are never pursued. Observing animals from large, motorized, research vessels (>100ft) at a steady, significant speed (>10kts/hour), provides a baseline for future, joint research efforts. The NCCE is regularly surveyed by government agencies and institutions on transects that have been repeated nearly every season for decades. This historical data provides critical context for environmental and oceanographic dynamics that impact large ecosystems with commercial and recreational implications.

My research cruise took place aboard the 208.5-foot R/V Bell M. Shimada in the first two weeks of May. The cruise was designated for monitoring the NCCE with the additional position of a marine mammal observer. The established guidelines did not allow for deviation from the predetermined transects. Therefore, mammals were surveyed along preset transects. The ship left port in San Francisco, CA and traveled as far north as Cape Meares, OR. The transects ranged from one nautical mile from shore and two hundred miles offshore. Observations occurred during “on effort” which was defined as when the ship was in transit and moving at a speed above 8 knots per hour dependent upon sea state and visibility. All observations took place on the flybridge during conducive weather conditions and in the bridge (one deck below the flybridge) when excessive precipitation was present. The starboard forward quarter: zero to ninety degrees was surveyed—based on the ship’s direction (with the bow at zero degrees). Both naked eye and 7×50 binoculars were used with at least 30 percent of time binoculars in use. To decrease observer fatigue, which could result in fewer detected sightings, the observer (me) rotated on a 40 minutes “on effort”, 20 minutes “off effort” cycle during long transits (>90 minutes).

Alexa on-effort using binoculars to estimate the distance and bearing of a marine mammal sighted off the starboard bow. Image source: Alexa K.

Data was collected using modifications to the SEEbird Wincruz computer program on a ruggedized laptop and a GPS unit was attached. At the beginning of each day and upon changes in conditions, the ship’s heading, weather conditions, visibility, cloud cover, swell height, swell direction, and Beaufort sea state (BSS) were recorded. Once the BSS or visibility was worse than a “5” (1 is “perfect” and 5 is “very poor”) observations ceased until there was improvement in weather. When a marine mammal was sighted the latitude and longitude were recorded with the exact time stamp. Then, I noted how the animal was sighted—either with binoculars or naked eye—and what action was originally noticed—blow, splash, bird, etc. The bearing and distance were noted using binoculars. The animal was given three generalized behavior categories: traveling, feeding, or milling. A sighting was defined as any marine mammal or group of animals. Therefore, a single sighting would have the species and the best, high, and low estimates for group size.

By my definitions, I had the research cruise of my dreams. There were moments when I imagined people joining this trip as a vacation. I *almost* felt guilty. Then, I remember that after watching water for almost 14 hours (thanks to the amazing weather conditions), I worked on data and reports and class work until midnight. That’s the part that no one talks about: the data. Fieldwork is about collecting data. It’s both what I live for and what makes me nervous. The amount of time, effort, and money that is poured into fieldwork is enormous. The acquisition of the data is not as simple as it seems. When I briefly described my position on this research cruise to friends, they interpret it to be something akin to whale-watching. To some extent, this is true. But largely, it’s grueling hours that leave you fatigued. The differences between fieldwork and what I’ll refer to as “everything else” AKA data analysis, proposal writing, manuscript writing, literature reviewing, lab work, and classwork, are the unbroken smile, the vaguely tanned skin, the hours of laughter, the sea spray, and the magical moments that reassure me that I’ve chosen the correct career path.

Alexa photographing a gray whale at sunset near Newport, OR. Image source: Alexa K.

This cruise was the second leg of the Northern California Current Ecosystem (NCCE) survey, I was the sole Marine Mammal and Seabird Observer—a coveted position. Every morning, I would wake up at 0530hrs, grab some breakfast, and climb to the highest deck: the fly-bridge. Akin to being on the top of the world, the fly-bridge has the best views for the widest span. From 0600hrs to 2000hrs I sat, stood, or danced in a one-meter by one-meter corner of the fly-bridge and surveyed. This visual is why people think I’m whale watching. In reality, I am constantly busy. Nonetheless, I had weather and seas that scientists dream about—and for 10 days! To contrast my luck, you can read Florence’s blog about her cruise. On these same transects, in February, Florence experienced 20-foot seas with heavy rain with very few marine mammal sightings—and of those, the only cetaceans she observed were gray whales close to shore. That starkly contrasts my 10 cetacean species with upwards of 45 sightings and my 20-minute hammock power naps on the fly-bridge under the warm sun.

Pacific white-sided dolphins traveling nearby. Image source: Alexa K.

Marine mammal sightings from this cruise included 10 cetacean species: Pacific white-sided dolphin, Dall’s porpoise, unidentified beaked whale, Cuvier’s beaked whale, gray whale, Minke whale, fin whale, Northern right whale dolphin, blue whale, humpback whale, and transient killer whale and one pinniped species: northern fur seal. What better way to illustrate these sightings than with a map? We are a geospatial lab after all.

Cetacean Sightings on the NCCE Cruise in May 2018. Image source: Alexa K.

This map is the result of data collection. However, it does not capture everything that was observed: sea state, weather, ocean conditions, bathymetry, nutrient levels, etc. There are many variables that can be added to maps–like this one (thanks to my GIS classes I can start adding layers!)–that can provide a better understanding of the ecosystem, predator-prey dynamics, animal behavior, and population health.

The catch from a bottom trawl at a station with some fish and a lot of pyrosomes (pink tube-like creatures). Image source: Alexa K.

Being a Ph.D. student can be physically and mentally demanding. So, when I was offered the opportunity to hone my data collection skills, I leapt for it. I’m happiest in the field: the wind in my face, the sunshine on my back, surrounded by cetaceans, and filled with the knowledge that I’m following my passion—and that this data is contributing to the greater scientific community.

Humpback whale photographed traveling southbound. Image source: Alexa K.

The Land of Maps and Charts: Geospatial Ecology

By Alexa Kownacki, Ph.D. Student, OSU Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

I love maps. I love charts. As a random bit of trivia, there is a difference between a map and a chart. A map is a visual representation of land that may include details like topology, whereas a chart refers to nautical information such as water depth, shoreline, tides, and obstructions.

Map of San Diego, CA, USA. (Source: San Diego Metropolitan Transit System)
Chart of San Diego, CA, USA. (Source: NOAA)

I have an intense affinity for visually displaying information. As a child, my dad traveled constantly, from Barrow, Alaska to Istanbul, Turkey. Immediately upon his return, I would grab our standing globe from the dining room and our stack of atlases from the coffee table. I would sit at the kitchen table, enthralled at the stories of his travels. Yet, a story was only great when I could picture it for myself. (I should remind you, this was the early 1990s, GoogleMaps wasn’t a thing.) Our kitchen table transformed into a scene from Master and Commander—except, instead of nautical charts and compasses, we had an atlas the size of an overgrown toddler and salt and pepper shakers to pinpoint locations. I now had the world at my fingertips. My dad would show me the paths he took from our home to his various destinations and tell me about the topography, the demographics, the population, the terrain type—all attribute features that could be included in common-day geographic information systems (GIS).

Uncle Brian showing Alexa where they were on a map of Maui, Hawaii, USA. (Photo: Susan K. circa 1995)

As I got older, the kitchen table slowly began to resemble what I imagine the set from Master and Commander actually looked like; nautical charts, tide tables, and wind predictions were piled high and the salt and pepper shakers were replaced with pencil marks indicating potential routes for us to travel via sailboat. The two of us were in our element. Surrounded by visual and graphical representations of geographic and spatial information: maps. To put my map-attraction this in even more context, this is a scientist who grew up playing “Take-Off”, a board game that was “designed to teach geography” and involved flying your fleet of planes across a Mercator projection-style mapboard. Now, it’s no wonder that I’m a graduate student in a lab that focuses on the geospatial aspects of ecology.

A precocious 3-year-old Alexa, sitting with the airplane pilot asking him a long list of travel-related questions (and taking his captain’s hat). Photo: Susan K.

So why and how did geospatial ecology became a field—and a predominant one at that? It wasn’t that one day a lightbulb went off and a statistician decided to draw out the results. It was a progression, built upon for thousands of years. There are maps dating back to 2300 B.C. on Babylonian clay tablets (The British Museum), and yet, some of the maps we make today require highly sophisticated technology. Geospatial analysis is dynamic. It’s evolving. Today I’m using ArcGIS software to interpolate mass amounts of publicly-available sea surface temperature satellite data from 1981-2015, which I will overlay with a layer of bottlenose dolphin sightings during the same time period for comparison. Tomorrow, there might be a new version of software that allows me to animate these data. Heck, it might already exist and I’m not aware of it. This growth is the beauty of this field. Geospatial ecology is made for us cartophiles (map-lovers) who study the interdependency of biological systems where location and distance between things matters.

Alexa’s grandmother showing Alexa (a very young cartographer) how to color in the lines. Source: Susan K. circa 1994

In a broader context, geospatial ecology communicates our science to all of you. If I posted a bunch of statistical outputs in text or even table form, your eyes might glaze over…and so might mine. But, if I displayed that same underlying data and results on a beautiful map with color-coded symbology, a legend, a compass rose, and a scale bar, you might have this great “ah-ha!” moment. That is my goal. That is what geospatial ecology is to me. It’s a way to SHOW my science, rather than TELL it.

Would you like to see this over and over again…?

A VERY small glimpse into the enormous amount of data that went into this map. This screenshot gave me one point of temperature data for a single location for a single day…Source: Alexa K.

Or see this once…?

Map made in ArcGIS of Coastal common bottlenose dolphin sightings between 1981-1989 with a layer of average sea surface temperatures interpolated across those same years. A picture really is worth a thousand words…or at least a thousand data points…Source: Alexa K.

For many, maps are visually easy to interpret, allowing quick message communication. Yet, there are many different learning styles. From my personal story, I think it’s relatively obvious that I’m, at least partially, a visual learner. When I was in primary school, I would read the directions thoroughly, but only truly absorb the material once the teacher showed me an example. Set up an experiment? Sure, I’ll read the lab report, but I’m going to refer to the diagrams of the set-up constantly. To this day, I always ask for an example. Teach me a new game? Let’s play the first round and then I’ll pick it up. It’s how I learned to sail. My dad described every part of the sailboat in detail and all I heard was words. Then, my dad showed me how to sail, and it came naturally. It’s only as an adult that I know what “that blue line thingy” is called. Geospatial ecology is how I SEE my research. It makes sense to me. And, hopefully, it makes sense to some of you!

Alexa’s dad teaching her how to sail. (Source: Susan K. circa 2000)
Alexa’s first solo sailboat race in Coronado, San Diego, CA. Notice: Alexa’s dad pushing the bow off the dock and the look on Alexa’s face. (Source: Susan K. circa 2000)
Alexa mapping data using ArcGIS in the Oregon State University Library. (Source: Alexa K circa a few minutes prior to posting).

I strongly believe a meaningful career allows you to highlight your passions and personal strengths. For me, that means photography, all things nautical, the great outdoors, wildlife conservation, and maps/charts.  If I converted that into an equation, I think this is a likely result:

Photography + Nautical + Outdoors + Wildlife Conservation + Maps/Charts = Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna

Or, better yet:

📸 + ⚓ + 🏞 + 🐋 + 🗺 =  GEMM Lab

This lab was my solution all along. As part of my research on common bottlenose dolphins, I work on a small inflatable boat off the coast of California (nautical ✅, outdoors ✅), photograph their dorsal fin (photography ✅), and communicate my data using informative maps that will hopefully bring positive change to the marine environment (maps/charts ✅, wildlife conservation✅). Geospatial ecology allows me to participate in research that I deeply enjoy and hopefully, will make the world a little bit of a better place. Oh, and make maps.

Alexa in the field, putting all those years of sailing and chart-reading to use! (Source: Leila L.)

 

What REALLY is a Wildlife Biologist?

By Alexa Kownacki, Ph.D. Student, OSU Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

The first lecture slide. Source: Lecture1_Population Dynamics_Lou Botsford

This was the very first lecture slide in my population dynamics course at UC Davis. Population dynamics was infamous in our department for being an ultimate rite of passage due to it’s notoriously challenge curriculum. So, when Professor Lou Botsford pointed to his slide, all 120 of us Wildlife, Fish, and Conservation Biology majors, didn’t know how to react. Finally, he announced, “This [pointing to the slide] is all of you”. The class laughed. Lou smirked. Lou knew.

Lou knew that there is more truth to this meme than words could express. I can’t tell you how many times friends and acquaintances have asked me if I was going to be a park ranger. Incredibly, not all—or even most—wildlife biologists are park rangers. I’m sure that at one point, my parents had hoped I’d be holding a tiger cub as part of a conservation project—that has never happened. Society may think that all wildlife biologists want to walk in the footsteps of the famous Steven Irwin and say thinks like “Crikey!”—but I can’t remember the last time I uttered that exclamation with the exception of doing a Steve Irwin impression. Hollywood may think we hug trees—and, don’t get me wrong, I love a good tie-dyed shirt—but most of us believe in the principles of conservation and wise-use A.K.A. we know that some trees must be cut down to support our needs. Helicoptering into a remote location to dart and take samples from wild bear populations…HA. Good one. I tell myself this is what I do sometimes, and then the chopper crashes and I wake up from my dream. But, actually, a scientist staring at a computer with stacks of papers spread across every surface, is me and almost every wildlife biologist that I know.

The “dry lab” on the R/V Nathaniel B. Palmer en route to Antarctica. This room full of technology is where the majority of the science takes place. Drake Passage, International Waters in August 2015. Source: Alexa Kownacki

There is an illusion that wildlife biologists are constantly in the field doing all the cool, science-y, outdoors-y things while being followed by a National Geographic photojournalist. Well, let me break it to you, we’re not. Yes, we do have some incredible opportunities. For example, I happen to know that one lab member (eh-hem, Todd), has gotten up close and personal with wild polar bear cubs in the Arctic, and that all of us have taken part in some work that is worthy of a cover image on NatGeo. We love that stuff. For many of us, it’s those few, memorable moments when we are out in the field, wearing pants that we haven’t washed in days, and we finally see our study species AND gather the necessary data, that the stars align. Those are the shining lights in a dark sea of papers, grant-writing, teaching, data management, data analysis, and coding. I’m not saying that we don’t find our desk work enjoyable; we jump for joy when our R script finally runs and we do a little dance when our paper is accepted and we definitely shed a tear of relief when funding comes through (or maybe that’s just me).

A picturesque moment of being a wildlife biologist: Alexa and her coworker, Jim, surveying migrating gray whales. Piedras Blancas Light Station, San Simeon, CA in May 2017. Source: Alexa Kownacki.

What I’m trying to get at is that we accepted our fates as the “scientists in front of computers surrounded by papers” long ago and we embrace it. It’s been almost five years since I was a senior in undergrad and saw this meme for the first time. Five years ago, I wanted to be that scientist surrounded by papers, because I knew that’s where the difference is made. Most people have heard the quote by Mahatma Gandhi, “Be the change that you wish to see in the world.” In my mind, it is that scientist combing through relevant, peer-reviewed scientific papers while writing a compelling and well-researched article, that has the potential to make positive changes. For me, that scientist at the desk is being the change that he/she wish to see in the world.

Scientists aboard the R/V Nathaniel B. Palmer using the time in between net tows to draft papers and analyze data…note the facial expressions. Antarctic Peninsula in August 2015. Source: Alexa Kownacki.

One of my favorite people to colloquially reference in the wildlife biology field is Milton Love, a research biologist at the University of California Santa Barbara, because he tells it how it is. In his oh-so-true-it-hurts website, he has a page titled, “So You Want To Be A Marine Biologist?” that highlights what he refers to as, “Three really, really bad reasons to want to be a marine biologist” and “Two really, really good reasons to want to be a marine biologist”. I HIGHLY suggest you read them verbatim on his site, whether you think you want to be a marine biologist or not because they’re downright hilarious. However, I will paraphrase if you just can’t be bothered to open up a new tab and go down a laugh-filled wormhole.

Really, Really Bad Reasons to Want to be a Marine Biologist:

  1. To talk to dolphins. Hint: They don’t want to talk to you…and you probably like your face.
  2. You like Jacques Cousteau. Hint: I like cheese…doesn’t mean I want to be cheese.
  3. Hint: Lack thereof.

Really, Really Good Reasons to Want to be a Marine Biologist:

  1. Work attire/attitude. Hint: Dress for the job you want finally translates to board shorts and tank tops.
  2. You like it. *BINGO*
Alexa with colleagues showing the “cool” part of the job is working the zooplankton net tows. This DOES have required attire: steel-toed boots, hard hat, and float coat. R/V Nathaniel B. Palmer, Antarctic Peninsula in August 2015. Source: Alexa Kownacki.

In summary, as wildlife or marine biologists we’ve taken a vow of poverty, and in doing so, we’ve committed ourselves to fulfilling lives with incredible experiences and being the change we wish to see in the world. To those of you who want to pursue a career in wildlife or marine biology—even after reading this—then do it. And to those who don’t, hopefully you have a better understanding of why wearing jeans is our version of “business formal”.

A fieldwork version of a lab meeting with Leigh Torres, Tom Calvanese (Field Station Manager), Florence Sullivan, and Leila Lemos. Port Orford, OR in August 2017. Source: Alexa Kownacki.