Author: beethes

Olivia Williams | 4th-year PhD Candidate in Geology

The week of April 8^th 2024, I traveled to the NSF Ice Core Facility (ICF) in Lakewood, Colorado to help process ice cores from this year’s field season. Together with Liam Kirkpatrick (PhD student, University of Washington) and Fairuz Ishraque (PhD student, Princeton), I had a fun, fascinating, and very cold week experiencing the logistics that make ice core science possible.

The reason for our trip was to help wrangle samples for the Center for Oldest Ice Exploration (COLDEX). This multi-university center is helping to extend our ice core record of past climate beyond our current 800-thousand-year timeline. The ’23-’24 field season—COLDEX’s second—saw researchers and drilling technicians return to the Allan Hills, a fascinating site where very old ice has been forced closer to the surface by underlying topography. They drilled about 140 meters of 9.5-inch-diameter cores with a blue ice drill, plus 90 meters with the 3-inch Eclipse drill and several more boxes of hand-augured ice. This ice was bagged, labeled, and packed in boxes of fresh Antarctic snow for the long journey back to the United States.

Now that it has arrived at the ICF, the ice needs to be cut up into smaller samples and shipped to labs across the US to determine things like its age and gas content. Three CEOAS early-career researchers who were on the field team (Julia Marks Peterson, Asmita Banerjee, and Abby Hudak) will be among those measuring carbon dioxide and methane content, dust particle count, and water isotopes. However, before any processing can take place, the ice must be unpacked and archived properly at ICF. This was the purpose of our visit.

Each morning, we left our rental and drove to the federal campus in Lakewood. Passing through the security checkpoint, coffee balanced in my lap as I flashed my passport and explained we were scientists visiting the Ice Core Facility, I felt like I was in a TV show. Then we’d drive on, past mysterious unlabeled structures and parking lots full of police and logistical vehicles, until we arrived at an enormous building with rippling vaulted roofs. I’m told it was initially a munitions factory. Among other things, it holds the USGS Core Research Lab, which in turn manages the ICF. We’d park and head inside to drop our stuff by the folding tables set up in the large warehouse space and go over our plan for the day.

The first order of business: bundling up. The storage room where we would retrieve boxes and shelve cores was -36°C (-33°F), and the work room where we spent most of the day was a comparatively balmy -25°C (-13°F). ICF has a variety of freezer gear to loan. However, like most people I know in this field, I like to travel with my own tried and true base layers. Over my t-shirt and leggings, I would don long underwear, a wool-blend sweater, and a thick second pair of socks. Then I’d put on the ICF-issue insulated coveralls and work boots. I brought my own glove liners, beanie, and muffler, and borrowed thick gloves and a faux fur-trimmed hat with ear flaps. The only skin left exposed was around my eyes—and that would be red and stinging like a mild sunburn by the end of the day.

Once we were physically and mentally prepared to enter the freezer, some of us would head to the back storage room with a list of which core depth intervals were in which boxes. After we located the right boxes and lifted them onto dollies, we could wheel them out to the work room and open them up, undoing the tight straps used to secure them on their long trip north.

Each box held several pieces of ice core, each in their own labeled plastic bag. Some of them were the full meter-long pieces we prefer to drill. Others were smaller, fractured segments that had broken apart during drilling. The ice at the Allan Hills can be challenging to drill in whole pieces due to its unusual stratigraphy and physical properties. Either way, the pieces were packed in now-solidified snow, so we would hack and chip at the icy chunks until we could peel them out and get at the samples below.

It was a challenge to dent the snow without chipping or damaging the ice it contained. Excavating the core sections felt like doing one of those children’s paleontology kits where you dig “fossils” from a hard sandy matrix with a dowel. Remember, we were working in a freezer, so any snow that ended up on the floor would become a slip hazard until it was swept up. We had to keep snow in rolling bins that we emptied in the parking lot at the end of each day.

Once retrieved, the ice could be arranged on the counters of the work room in depth order, ready to be re-shelved in the back room for easy access during upcoming sampling.

On days when I wasn’t doing the physical labor of slinging core boxes, I was learning how to use Liam’s instrument for electrical conductivity measurements (ECM). This technique involves dragging a pair of electrodes down a length of core to measure changes in the direct current (DC) and alternating current (AC) conductivity, which are affected by changes in the ions present in the ice. AC is sensitive to a wider range of ions, and DC largely measures acidity. Ionic content can reflect the presence of volcanic ash, dust, or other impurities. By measuring multiple tracks across the width of the core, you can see whether layers are horizontal or angled. This gives us critical information about how to align sampling and how much we can trust the stratigraphic order at particular depths.

Being the ECM assistant mostly meant babysitting the electrodes to make sure they made good contact with the ice. I had to flag any places where they went over a crack or chip so that Liam wouldn’t interpret the decrease in conductivity as a “real” signal. I also learned how to use the PlayStation controller rigged up to the instrument to tell it where the corners of the slab were. There was a fun issue where pressing anything besides the joysticks would cause Liam’s program to crash—something I did more than once because I’ve only played Xbox and that controller is configured differently.

While heavy lifting in the freezer isn’t exactly fun, it’s certainly preferable to standing still. Every time I had to take my gloves off to enter metadata for the next slab I could feel my mental timer ticking down faster towards break time. After 30 minutes or so of watching the ECM I felt the concrete floor draining the warmth out of my feet through my boots. At a certain point the sensation switches from cold to a pure ache that radiates up the bones of your shin. When that ache starts to fade, you’re overdue for a break; as the ICF folks frequently say, “don’t accept numbness!” One especially high-focus day I accidentally let some toes go numb. It felt like I had a few cold little pebbles in the toe of my boot. Down that road lies frostbite.

The more you try to push through the cold, the longer a break you have to take. Pacing helps, as does dancing. A few times I looked up from boogying next to the ECM to see that someone on their break was laughing at me through the window. It’s still better than standing still, which is what your brain tries to convince you to do. The energy preservation instinct is strong.

Freezer work also spikes your appetite. Right outside the freezer door sit jellybeans, gummy worms, pringles, and oreos to grab by the handful whenever you step out. I destroyed some lunches that would normally be two meals for me, including an incredible plate of fried chicken and jalapeno cheddar waffles at the end of the week.

We made great time on our goals. Although I’m not officially a part of COLDEX research, it felt nice to know that we were making things easier for the folks who will be there for the summer core processing line. It’s a huge privilege to handle ice that could be upwards of 6 million years old, looking at the little bubbles and knowing that they contain atmospheric air from so long ago. I also learned a ton about how the ICF staff manages new ice arrivals, sample requests, archival priority, and all the little administrative questions at the back end of ice core research. I certainly appreciate all the logistical support that goes into projects like mine.

Despite the chill and the chapped lips, I would absolutely return to ICF in the future for more ice processing. The staff are outstanding at their jobs and great company. And, of course, it’s a perfect opportunity to snoop on several decades of archived ice!

Dexter Davis | Master’s Student in OEAS

The Logistics

AT50-20 research cruise aboard the R/V Atlantis with HOV Alvin at 9.50°N East Pacific Rise (EPR) from January 11^th (San Diego, CA, USA) to February 12^th (Golfito, Costa Rica). Part of two NSF Research Grants: EPR Biofilms 4 Larvae – OCE-1948580 (Arellano), OCE-1947735 (Mullineaux), OCE-1948623 (Vetriani), and Inactive Sulfides – OCE-2152453 (Mullineaux & Beaulieu), OCE-2152422 (Sylvan & Achberger).

Chief Scientist for AT50-20 was Dr. Shawn Arellano (WWU). The purpose of the EPR Biolfilms 4 Larvae project is to study the relationship between microbial biofilms and larval settlement at hydrothermal vents. The Inactive Sulfides project aims to explore the life at “inactive vents” off the main axis of the EPR.

Inside the Submersible

The hatch closes with a thud. I sink against the edges of the 2-meter titanium sphere with a clipboard and iPad in my arms. I look over to the port side and see Dr. Costa Vetriani, one of the PIs for this project and my fellow observer for the dive, also settling in the for the long haul. Between us, Alvin pilot Tony Tarantino flips buttons, checks sensors, and relays protocols to his team. In an hour and a half, we will be at the seafloor, 2,500 meters (around 1.5 miles) below us. My mind races with images of hydrothermal vents, deep-sea animals, the instrumentation on the sub, and the list of objectives for this dive. This is unreal.

32 days at sea aboard the R/V Atlantis studying active and inactive hydrothermal vents at the East Pacific Rise (EPR) were full of unforgettable and transformative experiences. While this cruise was not directly related to my Master’s research here at OSU, where I’m studying a methane seep in Antarctica, working in remote chemosynthetic habitats unites them. In fact, these two sites couldn’t be more opposite. A high-temp, deep-sea, vent system near the equator to a cold-temp, shallow, seep system under the ice near the South Pole. Yet the skills I learned, the challenges I faced, and the patterns I observed are transferable in making me a better scientist and taught me critical thinking in understanding complex ecosystems.

From living isolated at sea and talking with peers and experts, to physically visiting the seafloor and sorting samples all day, deep-sea research cruises are one of the most intensive learning and self-realizing experiences. I learned my limits, my questions, my passions and my strengths, while fostering community, engaging in hands-on learning and being exposed to the remarkable progress of human ingenuity. I mean, humans going to the deep, dark, bottom of the ocean surrounded by immense pressure and toxic, superheated water as a hairless land-ape, is an incredible feat.

The Dream Team

Deep-sea research is inherently collaborative. Reaching sites hundreds of meters deep, and kilometers offshore is not cheap, nor quick. These expeditions are a joint effort between multiple institutions from different countries, with all sorts of disciplines, to make the most of every expedition. On this cruise we had scientists from 8 different universities across 3 countries that were biologists, ecologists, chemists, microbiologists, and geologists. If you had a question about the region, someone on board could answer it. Yet, at the same time, the appeal of deep-sea research is that there are so many unknowns. Just on this cruise we got to visit and name new sites that had only been seen through mapping data, and on the last cruise we discovered new species living at nearby inactive vents.

Being on board felt like such a privilege. While I was out at sea, I tried my best to talk to everyone to take advantage of this melting pot of experts, peers, and crew. I spoke with the captain about fishing over breakfast, prominent vent ecologists about the future of deep-sea mining over lunch, and with my peers about roommate horror stories over dinner. You live and work with these people for over a month, all working under the same goal, and develop close relationships. Some of these turn into friendships, others into future collaborations. Maybe I’ll see them at a conference, a talk, or another cruise. Everyone on board has a unique story of how they got there, what their day-to-day lives are like, and their life mottos. Spending this much time at sea takes a certain kind of person. Some of the crew and Alvin technicians spend 8 months out of the year on the water. While I find being in the middle of the ocean cathartic as a break from societal pressures, chores, and cooking, it’s also difficult to miss out on life achievements, communicate with friends and family, and only have 150 feet in one direction to walk.

Finding my Purpose in the Sea

This cruise was a unique one to me.  I was invited to return to sea with my previous undergraduate advisor, and boss, Dr. Shawn Arellano. I had been her research technician for the past two years, but now as a Master’s student in Dr. Andrew Thurber’s Lab, I thought I had moved on to do new things. Having been on the project’s previous cruise to the same site in 2022, I felt like I had a strong understanding of the project and the at-sea protocols for the lab. I was welcomed back by familiar faces and introduced to new ones. I felt like an asset to the team, where I could lead teams, mentor new students, and contribute ideas from my past experiences.

While incredible, the difficulty of these expeditions is often glossed over. Sure, there are lulls in the workload as different instruments are deployed or days of transit with nothing to do, but generally it’s exhausting. The effort required for a successful research expedition means we try to do as much as we can while we’re at each study site. At the end of this cruise, me and a few other scientists sorted under the microscope for 12 hours a day, for 8 days straight. This was necessary to collect any animals that had attached to our deployed polycarbonate (plastic) plates before handing them to our microbiologist collaborators. They would then do microbial analyses on these plates back on shore to assess the bacterial and archaeal groups present. My back might never recover from this microscope work combined with the small, flat, bunk beds we sleep in on the ship. We worked 100-hour work weeks with 20 Alvin dives, sorted 231 of these plates, dissected hundreds of mussels, filtered hundreds of liters of water, and coordinated outreach efforts. It was not easy. The pressures of life outside the ship, being overworked, over socialized, never feeling clean, and limited alone time, can be overwhelming. It’s intensive, but also so rewarding.

As a scientist, I want to understand how it all works, how it became, and what it means, but as an artist, I also just want to share the beauty.

Dexter Davis

It was all worth it because being surrounded by so much discovery and science is inspiring. As we bring up giant tube worms to dissect, put deep-sea larvae into pressurized behavioral chambers, dissolve basalt rocks into solution and swab vent chimneys to culture bacteria, I can’t help but become captivated with the ocean. The uniqueness of these habitats, the adaptations required of the animals that live there, and the complex interactions between them invoke wonder and appreciation. As a scientist, I want to understand how it all works, how it became, and what it means, but as an artist, I also just want to share the beauty. These animals are unlike anything I’ve seen before; with jungle-forming clusters, vivid iridescence scales and tissues, and terrifying mouths and eyes, or lack thereof; each species feels like its own horror movie star or Pokémon design. Through drawing, photography, videography, blogging, or other media, I don’t want to hold on to them for myself, I want to share these incredible creatures and locations with others.

Overall, this cruise was incredible, and I thank Dr. Thurber for advocating for me, and Dr. Arellano for inviting me and supporting me to get back out there. If you want to read more about the research that we conducted out there, I would check out Dr. Thurber’s blog that I updated regularly throughout the journey, or Dr. Arellano’s blog and website. If you have any questions, want to talk more about the deep-sea, or share at-sea stories please send me an email!  davisdex@oregonstate.edu. Follow me on Instagram @djdavis123!

Underwater photographs belong to Shawn Arellano, Chief scientist, Western Washington University; Alvin Operations Group; National Science Foundation; © Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute. EPR Biofilms4Larvae project is a multi-institutional NSF grant: OCE-1948580 (Arellano), OCE-1947735 (Mullineaux), OCE-1948623 (Vetriani). Also find us on Instagram @larvallab, #Biofilms4Larvae.

The Inactive Sulfides project is a multi-institutional NSF grant: OCE-2152453 (Mullineaux & Beaulieu), OCE-2152422 (Sylvan & Achberger). Also find us on Instagram @jasonsylvan, #LifeAfterVents.

Gabrielle LaRochelle, 2Lt, USAF | MS Student in Geography

Military Geography Origins

Remote sensing has its roots in military history, beginning with photos taken from hot air balloons and cameras strapped to pigeons as a means of reconnaissance during World War I. It wasn’t until 20 years after World War II that remote sensing technology was adapted to the commercial and academic applications we are familiar with today. 

As seen in the news on current conflicts around the world, the use of aerial and satellite imagery is still indispensable for monitoring unfolding events from afar. And the technology and techniques have gotten a whole lot better. 

The importance of remote sensing in data collection today is exemplified by the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency (NGA). The NGA uses state-of-the-art technology and methods to deliver geospatial intelligence that provides a decisive advantage to policymakers, military service members, intelligence professionals, and first responders at home and abroad.  

I only visited the NGA once for a military-academic conference, so I can’t say too much about it other than that the cafeteria is pretty good. 

My Experiences So Far

However, I would like to share my experience at Los Alamos National Laboratory, where we studied the use of LiDAR as a new method for monitoring potential nuclear weapons testing. Through this story I hope to provide insight into one of the many applications of geography for national defense and highlight some of the differences I noticed on my journey between the military and civilian worlds. 

Discovering Geography

I first discovered geography during an internship at NASA’s Johnson Space Center in Houston, Texas. I worked under the supervision of a retired Navy sailor who taught me about geographic information systems (GIS). She set me to work creating an interactive map for recovery from disasters, which in Houston typically means hurricanes. I gathered information on elevation, flooding, NASA employee zip codes, buildings in need of priority backup power, evacuation routes, etc. — all while working two floors above Mission Control! It was an intimidating project for my first foray into the world of geography, but it became incredibly gratifying when Hurricane Harvey later hit my hometown. The Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA), NASA, and other government agencies used my map to support operations during and after the storm. Having seen how beneficial the project was, I sought out the best undergraduate education in geospatial science and found myself at the United States Air Force Academy. 

Military Geography

In the military, I gained access to information and opportunities not available to the academic or commercial sectors. Before I even commissioned as an officer, I spent a summer at Los Alamos National Laboratory in New Mexico where I learned about the history of Los Alamos, its projects, and the surrounding geography. If you watched the movie Oppenheimer you know that the town was created at the direction of Robert Oppenheimer for the atomic bomb project. Fun fact: many of those original buildings are still standing and can be visited on a guided tour. 

However, the United States (US) banned its own nuclear weapons testing in 1992 to reduce the threat of nuclear war. The United Kingdom and Soviet Union had completed their last known tests a few years earlier and after the US signed on other nuclear capable countries followed suit. Today most of the world’s countries have agreed with and abide by the Comprehensive Nuclear-Test-Ban Treaty. So, what was I doing at Los Alamos? I was working to ensure that the moratorium on nuclear weapons testing continues to be upheld.  

Before the complete ban there was a partial one, which prohibited all but underground testing. By nature, underground testing is hard to see and easier to hide if a nation wants to continue its own tests. The question my team sought to answer was simple: can we develop digital elevation models (DEMs) from remote sensing that are so accurate and precise that they can detect one-to-two-centimeter disturbances of Earth’s surface that have resulted from underground explosions? The team proved the concept with drone collected orthoimagery, but the process was tedious and long. My task was to streamline that workflow. I beta tested a software to correct the flight angles of drone-collected LiDAR data (think echolocation with lasers). From the corrected data we were able to create a DEM of comparable accuracy and precision 30 to 60 times faster than the orthoimagery workflow. Through conducting this research, I enabled my team to collect, analyze, and classify minute changes on Earth’s surface rapidly after an underground explosion, therefore advancing monitoring capabilities for nuclear weapons testing. 

A tale of two perspectives

Interning at both NASA as a civilian and Los Alamos as a military member were incredibly enlightening experiences (although National Labs are not part of the Department of Defense). My worldview expanded significantly between accepting those internships, and I’ve seized many more opportunities to learn more and grow since then. For example, I competed for a graduate school slot straight out of undergrad instead of starting my assigned military job with the rest of my classmates. Actually – serendipitously – experiencing the monsoonal season (which I didn’t know existed in the US) in New Mexico planted the seed for my master’s thesis which explores associations among changing climate patterns, plant cover, and wildfire trends.

I urge everyone to go confidently in the direction of their dreams but stay open to a life they might never have imagined – you never know where the adventure might lead. 

Gabrielle LaRochelle

The best thing about geography is the breadth of possibilities, which have been even further expanded through my military service. I’m not a recruiter and the decision I made to join the military was nuanced, like that of every other service member. Being at OSU has made me appreciate my military training, but it has also given me a valuable connection to the civilian and academic world that I didn’t realize I had been missing. I urge everyone to go confidently in the direction of their dreams but stay open to a life they might never have imagined – you never know where the adventure might lead. 

All views expressed in this article are my own and not representative of the Air Force or DOD

Twenty-two graduate students represented CEOAS at the American Geophysical Union Conference in December 2023. From first timers to seasoned attendees, here are some of their experiences.

Attending AGU in 2023 was my first foray into the world of academic conferences. The event served as an unparalleled platform for both intellectual growth and networking. AGU not only broadened my understanding of cutting-edge scientific endeavors but also provided a glimpse into the diverse and fascinating research being conducted around the world. The conference left an indelible impression on me, emphasizing the global importance and collaborative spirit within the scientific community. – Bareera Mirza, PhD Student in Geography

“Meeting current and future collaborators from around the world. Running into old friends in the massive poster hall and enjoying San Francisco. Celebrating research and collaborative science.” – Kelsey Lane, PhD Student in OEB

AGU 2023 was important to me since I did my first in-person oral presentation at a large international conference like AGU. The valuable feedback I received after the presentation was truly beneficial for my current research. – Suhail Alhejji, PhD Student in Geology

I had a great experience back at AGU in San Francisco! As chaotic as it is, AGU is one of the best places to feel at home in a sea of strangers. When you scurry from room to room or poster to poster, you’ll always have something interesting to overhear or see along the way. AGU has also started to really emphasize scientific engagement with the population and local communities, and you could tell at AGU 2023 that accessibility, outreach, broader impacts of science communication, and K-12 engagement were priorities of the organization, in addition to the important science that advances our understanding of the earth. – Layla Ghazi, PhD Student in Geology

I had researchers I admire ask me for my opinion on new concepts

Deepa Dwyer

Attending AGU as a late-state PhD student feels like a totally different ball game. I got so much more out of the networking and I felt like I could really engage with all the presentations I attended. All in all, it was a great time! – Olivia Williams, PhD Student in Geology

AGU 2023 was a great opportunity to share the progress I’ve made on my dissertation research. It was also wonderful to catch up with old friends, and to help undergraduate students I have been mentoring prepare for their first conference! – Sami Cargill, PhD Student in Geology

Attending my very first AGU was phenomenal. It’s a tsunami of scientists and research: overwhelming and electrifying in the magnitude of people you interact with and ideas you absorb and generate. It’s also one giant hype-fest for nerds (some are old friends, some are new) and reminded me why I love what I do. – Jonas Donnenfield, PhD Student in Marine Geology & Geophysics

AGU is one of the best places to feel at home in a sea of strangers

Layla Ghazi, PhD Student, pictured above.

This was by far the best AGU experience I had so far. I co-chaired 2 sessions, and gave 2 talks; one pertaining to my PhD work and another on IODP Expedition 395 that I sailed on during summer of 2023. What made it really amazing for me is feeling that I not only had a lot to learn (as before), but I also had a lot to contribute to conversations. I was able to build and foster collaborations for future projects. Most amazingly, I had researchers I admire ask me for my opinion on new concepts. The combination of this made me truly feel part of the community. – Deepa Dwyer, PhD Student in Marine Geology & Geophysics

At AGU 2023, I picked up some cool stuff! I learned about using Earth Engine Vertex AI and how to manage data better with tools like SHAP and COCALC. Meeting people from Google Earth Engine and learning about job opportunities at Berkley Lab was awesome. Additionally, the discussions on innovative projects like the mangrove study and advancements in image processing using Generative Adversarial Networks for super-resolution were particularly captivating. Understanding hypergraphs in mathematics as a complex extension of traditional graphs added another layer to my learning experience. – Ashraful Islam, MS Student in Geography

I felt somewhat starstruck at AGU, especially wandering around the exhibit hall and meeting representatives from amazing companies and organizations- as big as NASA and as small as new environmental NGO start ups! As far as my research, the conversations I had between sessions and at my poster gave me a new context for the larger questions and how my research fits into that. It was almost the opposite of imposter syndrome. On top of all of that, this was my first AGU and first time networking with so many people. I realized that networking was similar to making new friends and rekindling old friendships, but it is exhausting and scheduling in some time to refresh yourself socially is extremely worthwhile! – Meghan Sharp, PhD Student in Geophysics

AGU2023 – both an exhausting whirlwind and invigorating experience. From meeting long-time inspirations, to connecting with global collaborators, what initially felt like an impossibly large conference center began to feel like a network of the greatest scientists I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. Presenting new methods and findings from a new study area than my past research breached my comfort zone allowing me to grow not just as a scientist, but as a human. – Sarah Beethe, PhD Student in Geology

Featured Presentation Titles (alphabetical by first name)

• Ashraful Islam: “How speckle filtering approaches and kernel sizes affect land cover classification: Sentinel-1 pre-processing parameter selection insights”
• Bareera Mirza: “Evaluating the relative value of MODIS snow cover and Sentinel-1 Observations for Snow Water Equivalent Estimation within a Data Assimilation System”
• Deepa Dwyer: “Glacial fans as archives of the paleo-geomagnetic field: A case study from IODP Exp 341 in the Gulf of Alaska for the 14-50 kyr interval. Presentation # 2: New Records of Geomagnetic Instabilities During the Brunhes Chron From IODP Expeditions 384, 395C and 395 in North Atlantic Ocean”
• Jonas Donnenfield: “Disentangling mechanisms of persistent benthic hypoxia in the NE Pacific from the late Pleistocene to late Holocene”
• Kelsey Lane: “Combining molecular, morphometric, and trace element geochemical analysis for a single foraminifera shell: a promising workflow for species with cryptic diversity”
• Layla Ghazi: “Understanding the phase associations and weathering behavior of rhenium to assess the use of Re as a tracer of georespiration”
• Meghan Sharp: “Drivers and Mechanisms of Rift Propagation: Initial Observations on Thwaites Eastern Ice Shelf, West Antarctica”
• Olivia Williams: “Development of a new noble gas extraction method in ice cores”
• Sami Cargill: “A Multi-Proxy Approach to Develop a Chronological Framework on the Cascadia Margin Using Radiocarbon and Paleomagnetic Secular Variation Constrained by Chemical, Magnetic, and Physical Properties”
• Sarah Beethe: “After the Minoan: New Radiocarbon Ages of Recently Uncovered Eruptions in the Santorini Caldera”
• Suhail Alhejji: “The Origin of Younger Volcanism in Western Saudi Arabia”

Icy Corvallis winter makes the tales of summer field season that much sweeter. Follow four graduate students during their summer field experiences across the globe, from Yaquina Bay to the Arctic Circle.

BAFFIN BAY || JONAS DONNENFIELD || PhD Student in MG&G

The first ice sighting had the night-shift scientists shouting and scrambling to the ship railings. The small, white form glided towards us on the glassy-smooth surface of the water. Incredulous exclamations sputtered from our lips, intermixed with moments of silence that left the air thrumming with palpable excitement and awe. Sailing north along the west coast of Greenland in Baffin Bay, this first glimpse of sea ice and still ocean was a precursor to the breathtaking environment that awaited us on the rest of our 33-day voyage.

Our mission: unravel the history of the substance we were so captivated by, ice, over 20,000 years ago during the last greatest extent of Earth’s ice sheets. Our question: what atmospheric or oceanographic mechanism led to the retreat of the Greenland Ice Sheet? Our method: marine sediment cores, lovingly called mud, which we miraculously retrieve from the sea floor using pipes and wires, ingenuity and improvisation, and a whole lot of teamwork. When we finally docked in Nuuk, Greenland, we had almost 50 gravity or piston sediment cores aboard from across Greenland’s western continental slope. They now reside in the Oregon State University Marine Geology Repository, waiting patiently to reveal secrets of ice long melted.

YAQUINA BAY || MARLENA PENN || Master’s Student in MRM

Last summer I spent one day a week visiting study sites in Yaquina Bay, Oregon. I have been monitoring the growth of native Olympia oysters at five locations since July 2022. In May, we decided to increase our sampling frequency from monthly to bi-weekly and add a second cohort of Olympia oysters. Every visit to Yaquina includes extensive cleaning of aquaculture cages and instruments, weighing every individual oyster (>750 oysters!), taking pictures of every oyster to later analyze for shell dimensions, and water samples from every site. This is a very meticulous process, and it would not have been feasible without the support from several dedicated undergraduate students (Alaina Houser, Drew Moreland and Tyler Wildman).

One of my favorite parts of field days is seeing the ebb and flow of the estuary. If you were to visit some of these sites at low tide and return at high tide, they would be unrecognizable due to the change in water level. Being able to watch these cycles is such a great reminder of how nature continues on, regardless of our own busy lives.

BAFFIN BAY || KATIE STELLING || PhD Student in MG&G

This past summer I spent 5 weeks at sea aboard the R/V Neil Armstrong as part of the Baffin Bay Deglacial Experiment (BADEX). Our primary objectives were to create maps and retrieve sediment cores from multiple trough mouth fan systems along the continental slope of the west Greenland Margin, with the larger goal of understanding the oceanographic conditions surrounding the retreat of the Greenland Ice Sheet following the Last Glacial Maximum. Some of my favorite memories are of our Blue Nose ceremony after crossing the Arctic Circle (pictured), the surreal feeling of sailing into a pack of sea ice for the first time, and gathering on the bridge with nearly everyone on the ship to see a sleeping polar bear.

THE ARCTIC||HALEY CARLTON||PhD Student in OEB

I spent a month in the Arctic last summer with a large, interdisciplinary team studying glacial-fjord ecosystem dynamics! We sailed on the Greenland Institute of Natural Resources’ (GINR) new ship, the R/V Tarajoq, from Iceland to Sermilik fjord in southeast Greenland. We spent two weeks at sea deploying bongo nets and trawls in search of larval fish and zooplankton, cast CTDs to collect water samples and define water masses, and deploy and recover several moorings throughout the fjord. We even spent a few days with a local schoolteacher who came aboard to learn about the science we were doing in their community and visited his village Tiilerilaaq. After two weeks at sea, we returned to Iceland for a few days before I flew to Nuuk to sort and identify some of the zooplankton we collected with collaborators at GINR.