There she blows! Studying blow synchrony in blue and gray whale mother-calf pairs

Maddie Honomichl, CSUMB Undergraduate in Marine Science, 2025  NSF REU and TOPAZ/JASPER Intern

Hi everyone, my name is Maddie Honomichl, and I was one of the two NSF REU interns with the GEMM lab this summer. This fall will be my last semester at California State University, Monterey Bay (CSUMB), where I will receive my undergraduate degree in Marine Science. Growing up in the Arizona desert limited my exposure to large bodies of water but led to memorable family trips to San Diego. With each trip my adoration for the ocean and the vast marine ecosystem emerged, resulting in my choice to go to college at CSU Monterey Bay. During my time at CSUMB, I learned of what internships were and the magnitude of impact these experiences had on my peers. Naturally, I searched online for weeks for future summer internship openings available—eventually leading me to none other than the GEMM Lab’s TOPAZ/JASPER project.

Figure 1. A picture of me, Maddie Honomichl, in Redding, CA.

Celest Sorrentino, my amazing mentor, took me under her wing and helped me complete my very first research project: In sync? Studying blow synchrony in blue and gray whale mother-calf pairs using drone footage. The aim of my project is to understand more about calf development in gray and blue whales by investigating changes in mother-calf blow synchrony. But what is synchrony?

Synchrony can be defined as two individuals attempting to match each other’s behavior (Novotny & Bente 2022) and promote mimicry and learning. For example, humpback whales teaching their calves vocalizations and song patterns to communicate is an instance of synchrony and social learning (Anjara 2018). Another example of synchrony in wildlife is energetic transfer, where a whale calf will swim in alignment with its mother’s slipstream to expend less energy (Norris & Prescott 1961). Just like these behaviors, blow synchrony is a measure we can use in marine mammal mother-calf pairs to evaluate their relationship with each other.

Aside from the TOPAZ/JASPER project, you might already be familiar with two other incredible GEMM lab projects GRANITE and SAPPHIRE. During the years of 2016-2023, drone footage of the Pacific Coast Feeding Group of gray whales was collected along the Oregon coast for the GRANITE project. In 2016, 2017, 2024, and 2025, drone footage for the pygmy blue whales was collected in South Taranaki Bight, New Zealand, for the SAPPHIRE project. Large marine mammals, especially whales, are difficult to study for many reasons including their brief occurrences at the surface and the challenges of studying aquatic animals. However, the use of drones allows for a safer and non-invasive alternative method for marine mammal monitoring in their natural habitat (Álvarez-González et al., 2023).

Figure 2. Two still images taken from GRANITE drone footage. The left is of a mother gray whale blowing and the right is of a gray whale calf blowing

Baleen whale calves only have 6-8 months to learn everything they need to know before they wean and are sent off on their own (Lockyer 1984). I don’t know about you, but if my mom kicked me out after I turned 5 years old, I would be pretty lost. In American culture, the golden age for humans to be considered an adult is around 18 years old, when they finally leave the house and venture on their own. For humans, age is a cultural sign of independence, but not much is known about what factors influence what makes a calf ready to be independent. Blow synchrony between mother-calf pairs during the calf’s weaning period can be used as a metric for calf development, which is important to know more about as calf development and survival rates are critical factors to consider in population dynamics and management efforts.

When do whales eventually leave their mother? We frequently don’t know how old a calf is, so we use three different metrics as proxies of calf maturity. First, we use Total Length (TL), which is the length of the whale from rostrum to fluke (or nose to tail) (Pirotta et. al., 2023) and serves as an indicator of growth. Our next metric is Body Area Index (BAI), similar to BMI in humans, which is a score of body condition to understand how fat or skinny the whale calf is (Burnett et. al., 2019). Total Length and BAI measurements are derived from drone photogrammetry work conducted by the GEMM Lab and CODEX. Our last proxy is Day of Year (DOY), which is the day in the year we sighted the whales.

Figure 3. Demonstrating photogrammetry methods used to measure Total Length and Body Area Index (BAI). On the left is a drone image of a gray whale showing how we calculate Total Length (TL) from rostrum to fluke. This image is also divided into increments which are used to calculate Surface Area (SA), depicted by the green dashed box, and using the equation on the right with TL, BAI is calculated. 

The specific question I addressed was: Does mother-calf blow rate synchrony change as the calf’s Total Length and Body Area Index increase, and Day of Year increases? In other words, does synchrony change as calves become longer, healthier, and the year progresses. Meaning, as the calf grows in length, increases its body condition, and the day of year progresses, the calf will gain independence from its mother and become out of sync.

I analyzed blowhole rates of mother-calf gray and blue whales using  a program called BORIS (Friard & Gamba 2016). BORIS (Behavioral Observation Research Interactive Software) is an online free program where researchers can assign behavior states to animals in video. In BORIS, I watched the drone footage and marked a “blow” event for the mom and calf, recording a specific time stamp per event. I repeated this workflow for each video of both gray and blue whale mom-calf pairs. Once completed, I calculated the average difference of the calf’s timestamp from the mother’s timestamp per pair. The reason behind this approach is that  the larger the average difference, the more asynchronous the calf is with its mother, and the smaller the average difference the more synchronous they will become.

To evaluate the effect of our proxies for age, Total Length, BAI, and Day of Year, on mother-calf blow rate synchrony, I turned to my good friend RStudio. I created a scatterplot and regressions for these relationships (Figure 4). These results indicate that body condition (BAI) may be a better proxy of calf maturity and preparation for weaning in gray whales (p-value = 0.0064), whereas calf Total Length (TL) is more indicative of calf maturity in blue whales (p-value = 0.00097).

Figure 4. Scatterplot describing the relationship between the average difference in breath rate in seconds across our three proxies: (i) Average total length, (ii) Average BAI, (iii) Day of Year. The black line in the linear regression fit to the data produced by the linear model. The error bars around each point are the standard deviation or the variability in their blow synchrony. The bigger the error bars mean the more variation the mother and calf had in their blow rates, and the smaller the error bars means the less variation the mother and calf had in their blow rates. Ultimately to answer my question, for gray whales, blow synchrony between mother and calf decreases with increasing calf Body Area Index (BAI). For our blue whales, mother-calf blow synchrony decreases with increasing calf Total Length (TL).

As I end my 10-week internship summer filled with data collection and analysis, lots of laughs and inside jokes, I am proud to say I have learned so much about the research that goes into a project like mine. As someone who loves marine animals, especially whale sharks, I now have a newfound love for whales that will forever be in my heart. I am so incredibly grateful that I was able to work with the GEMM lab and the amazing team of researchers and scientists it encompasses. Being a first-generation college student comes with its challenges of learning how to navigate higher education without direct guidance of family who had been through the experience. But if there’s one thing I always tell myself, it’s that with a little bit of grit and hard work, you can do anything you put your mind to! Whatever my future holds for me, I hope it is filled with more research opportunities and the chance to work with marine mammals!

Figure 5. An image of Maddie Honomichl, presenting her research poster at the Hatfield summer coastal intern symposium remotely from Port Orford!

References:

Álvarez-González, M., Suarez-Bregua, P., Pierce, G. J., & Saavedra, C. (2023). Unmanned Aerial Vehicles (UAVs) in Marine Mammal Research: A Review of Current Applications and Challenges. Drones, 7(11), 667. https://doi.org/10.3390/drones7110667

Anjara Saloma. Humpback whales (Megaptera novaeangliae) mother-calf interactions. Vertebrate Zoology. Université Paris Saclay (COmUE); Université d’Antananarivo, 2018. English. ⟨NNT : 2018SACLS138⟩. ⟨tel-02869389⟩

Burnett, J. D., Lemos, L., Barlow, D., Wing, M. G., Chandler, T., & Torres, L. G. (2019). Estimating morphometric attributes of baleen whales with photogrammetry from small UASs: A case study with blue and gray whales. Marine Mammal Science, 35(1), 108–139. https://doi.org/10.1111/mms.12527

Friard, O., & Gamba, M. (2016). BORIS: A free, versatile open‐source event‐logging software for video/audio coding and live observations. Methods in Ecology and Evolution, 7(11), 1325–1330. https://doi.org/10.1111/2041-210X.12584

Huetz, C., Saloma, A., Adam, O., Andrianarimisa, A., & Charrier, I. (2022). Ontogeny and synchrony of diving behavior in Humpback whale mothers and calves on their breeding ground. Journal of Mammalogy, 103(3), 576–585. https://doi.org/10.1093/jmammal/gyac010

Lockyer, Christina. (1984). Review of Baleen Whale (Mysticeti) Reproduction and Implications for Management. Reproduction in whales, dolphins and porpoises. Proc. conference, La Jolla, CA, 1981. 6. 27-50.

Norris, K.S., & Prescott, J.H. (1961). Observations of Pacific cetaceans of Californian and Mexican waters. University of California Publications in Zoology, 63, 291- 402.

Novotny, E., & Bente, G. (2022). Identifying Signatures of Perceived Interpersonal Synchrony. Journal of nonverbal behavior, 46(4), 485–517. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10919-022-00410-9

Pirotta, E., Fernandez Ajó, A., Bierlich, K. C., Bird, C. N., Buck, C. L., Haver, S. M., Haxel, J. H., Hildebrand, L., Hunt, K. E., Lemos, L. S., New, L., & Torres, L. G. (2023). Assessing variation in faecal glucocorticoid co

Smultea, M. A., Fertl, D., Bacon, C. E., Moore, M. R., James, V. R., & Würsig, B. (2017). Cetacean mother-calf behavior observed from a small aircraft off Southern California. Animal Behavior and Cognition, 4(1), 1–23. https://doi.org/10.12966/abc.01.02.2017

Zoop Gone Missing: A Whale’s Dinner Dilemma

Dawson Mohney, TOPAZ/JASPER HS Intern, Pacific High School Graduate

My name is Dawson Mohney, I am a high school intern for the 2025 TOPAZ/JASPER team this field season. I first heard about the TOPAZ/JASPER internship from my friend Jonah Lewis, a previous intern from the 2023 field season. Coincidentally, Jonah and I both graduated this year from Pacific High School here on the coast—small world. I have called Port Orford my home for most of my life, and in recent years I discovered that a gray whale research project has been happening in my own backyard. Growing up less than a mile from the Oregon Coast, I’ve spent a lot of time looking out into the water. I always liked how, no matter what happened in my life, the ocean was always there. This interest is what encouraged me to apply for the internship with the hope of discovering more about the ocean, a substantial part of my home and family.

Fig 1: Picture fellow intern Maddie took of me (Dawson) during our trip to Natural Bridges.

A critical part of this project is understanding not only the magnificent gray whales but also the much less apparent zooplankton–after all, the whales need to eat a lot of zooplankton! Many different species of zooplankton—“zoop” for short—call the Oregon coast home. Each day, as we kayak to our 12 sample stations within the gray whale feeding grounds of Mill Rocks and Tichenor’s Cove, I find myself wondering which species of zoop I’ll get to identify later under the microscope.

Throughout the duration of this internship, our team has met to discuss a few research papers published by GEMM Lab members, including research produced from the TOPAZ/JASPER projects. Recently, I read, “Do Gray Whales Count Calories? Comparing Energetic Values of Gray Whale Prey Across Two Different Feeding Grounds in the Eastern North Pacific,” by Hildebrand et al. who describe the caloric content of different zooplankton species. Before reading this paper, I didn’t realize whale prey could vary in nutritional value – much like food for humans. This paper made it clear that each of the different species of zooplankton is just as important as the last, but consuming more of the higher caloric species such as the Neomysis rayii or the Dungeness crab larvae would certainly be a welcome meal. Seeing these “healthy” meals in the area makes me hopeful for the whales.

Fig 2: Image of a crab larvae in their megalopae stage.

From reading previous blog posts, the foraging habits of the whales this season appear to be unusual. In prior TOPAZ/JASPER field seasons, gray whales have often been tracked foraging near or around our Mill Rocks and Tichenor Cove study sites. This season, we haven’t tracked a single whale in Mill Rocks and only two in Tichenor Cove. Could there just not be enough good zoop?

Along with this lack of whales, there does seem to be a lack of these “high calorie zoop species”. Our team has most frequently collected samples primarily comprising of Atylus tridens, a lower calorie prey type. In fact, during one of our earlier kayak training days this field season we collected 2,019 individual A. tridens. However, since this day we have collected sparse amounts of zooplankton in our samples, ranging from zero to 121 in a given sample. Our total zoop count thus far is 2,524 zooplankton, a third of the total zooplankton collected last field season.

Fig 3: Image of an Atylus tridens under a microscope.

As for whale presence, we have been observing many whales blows near Hell’s Gate as mentioned in last week’s blog written by fellow intern Miranda Fowles. From our cliff site, it has been difficult to know whether these are gray whales or a different kind of whale, leading us to venture out to the Heads to get a better look. The persistence of whales in this area is certainly unusual, and perhaps it can be explained by a larger amount of higher calorie zooplankton species in the Hell’s Gate area.

Fig 4: Dawson tracking blows by Hell’s Gate with the theodolite.

Being part of the TOPAZ/JASPER project, I have become exposed to what the true meaning is behind “fieldwork,” including learning how to be flexible and adapt to new challenges every day. What I have most enjoyed is the team’s ability to overcome any new hurdle together as a unit.  My dad often says, “You learn something new every day,” and this internship couldn’t embody this quote more. In just these 5 weeks, it almost feels like my head is now a couple sizes bigger.

Before this experience, I never thought much about how one might track a whale or how different microscopic species could have such a profound impact on a whale’s decision to forage. Now I feel I understand just how important these less than obvious factors are and the effort which goes behind understanding these relationships. I can only hope future opportunities teach me as much as joining the TOPAZ/JASPER legacy has—it’s an experience that, even just a few days into the 2025 field season, I knew would be hard to match.

Fig 4: Dawson (navigator) and Miranda (sampler) during kayak training on their way to Mill Rocks.

Hildebrand, L., Bernard, K. S., & Torres, L. G. (2021). Do Gray Whales Count Calories? Comparing Energetic Values of Gray Whale Prey Across Two Different Feeding Grounds in the Eastern North Pacific. Frontiers in Marine Science, 8, 683634. https://doi.org/10.3389/fmars.2021.683634

Whales Off Course: Theodolite Tracking in an Unpredicted Area

Miranda Fowles, GEMM Lab TOPAZ/JASPER Intern, OSU Fisheries and Wildlife Undergraduate

Hello! My name is Miranda Fowles, and I am the OSU intern for the 2025 TOPAZ/JASPER project this summer! I recently earned my bachelor’s degree – almost, I have one more term, but I walked at commencement in June – from Oregon State University in Fisheries, Wildlife and Conservation Sciences and a minor in Spanish. My interest in whales began at a young age during a visit to SeaWorld. While I didn’t enjoy the killer whale shows for their entertainment aspect, this exposure allowed me to see a whale for the first time. From then on, I knew I wanted to contribute to understanding more about these animals, even if I wasn’t always sure how to make that happen. My decision to pursue Fisheries and Wildlife sciences was set from the beginning, however I wondered if there were actually opportunities to study whales.

Last summer, I was a MACO intern and stayed at the Hatfield Marine Science Center where I met last year’s TOPAZ/JASPER REU student, Sophia Kormann, and she raved all about her experience, so I just had to apply for this year’s internship! I remember feeling so nervous for the interview, but Dr. Leigh Torres and Celest Sorrentino’s kindness and inspiration quickly put me to ease. When I found out I was offered the position, I was just more excited than I’d ever been!

My day-to-day life as a TOPAZ/JASPER intern here at the Port Orford Field Station looks one of two ways: either on the kayak or the cliff site. When we are ocean kayaking, we go to our 12 sampling sites in the Mill Rocks and Tichenor Cove study areas (Fig. 1), where we collect zooplankton samples (Fig. 2) and oceanographic data with our RBR (an oceanographic instrument), as well as GoPro footage. When on the cliff site, we keep our eyes peeled for any whales to take pictures of them and mark their location in the water with a theodolite.

Fig. 1: Map of our study sites (Tichenor Cove and Mill Rocks) and where we have been seeing gray whales (Hell’s Gate) circled in green, and our Cliff Site.
Fig. 2: Miranda Fowles out on the kayak pointing at her zooplankton samples.

A theodolite is an instrument that is used for mapping and engineering; in our case it is used to track where a gray whale blows and surfaces (For more info, please see this blog by previous intern Jonah Lewis). Each time a whale surfaces, we use the theodolite to create a point in space that marks its location. Once we have multiple points, we can draw lines between each point to establish the track of the whale. These tracklines can then be used to make assumptions of the whales’ behavior. For example, if the trackline is straight, and the individual is moving at a consistent speed and direction, we can assume the whale is transiting. Whereas if the trackline is going back and forth in one small area, the whale is likely searching or foraging for food (Hildebrand et al., 2022).

In last week’s blog my peer Nautika Brown showed how photo ID is a critical part in our field methods. When theodolite tracking, we assign a number with each new individual whale observation. If the whale is close enough, we also capture photographs of the whale (Fig. 3) and match it up to its given number, allowing us to link the trackline to an individual whale so we can understand more about individual behavior. Documenting individual specific behavior is important because previous research has shown that age, size and the individual ID of a whale can all influence different foraging tactic use (Bird et al., 2024). Therefore, each season as we collect more and more data, we establish a repertoire of recurring or new behaviors to sieve for trends and patterns.

Fig. 3: Photo of a gray whale surfacing captured from our cliff site.

I find animal behavior to be an integral role in many ecological studies, and I am intrigued to explore this topic more. As marine mammals that spend most of their time underwater, cetaceans are quite an inconspicuous species to study (Bird et al., 2024), but by studying their ecology through photo ID and theodolite tracking we get insight into who they are, how they behave, and where they go.

Up until this point in the season, we have theodolite tracked gray whales for 12 hours and 3 minutes (woohoo). Interestingly, most of these tracks of whales have been near an area called “Hell’s Gate”, which is located around large rocks toward the far west of our study site (Figs. 2 and 4). We can assume, but cannot be sure, that the whales are feeding here because they spend so much time in the area, and return day after day. According to Dr. Torres, the consistent use of this area near Hell’s Gate by gray whales is unusual. In the prior 10 years of the TOPAZ project, few whales have been tracked foraging in this area near Hell’s Gate, but rather most whales have foraged in the Mill Rocks and Tichenor Cove areas. It is interesting to think about why the whales are behaving differently this year. Maybe this is due to variations in prey availability at these different sites. In recent years, Port Orford has been affected by a surge in purple sea urchin density, which have overgrazed the once prominent kelp forests here. A high urchin density decreases the kelp condition, which then leads to less habitat for zooplankton, creating a decline in prey availability for gray whales (Hildebrand et al., 2024). Upon reflection of my time on the kayak, I have noticed minimal kelp and low zooplankton abundance when conducting our zooplankton drops in our Mill Rocks and Tichenor Cove study sites. Additionally, I have also noticed many purple sea urchins in our GoPro videos. With the effects of this trophic cascade in mind, not observing any gray whales in our traditional study sites is understandable. With these gray whales more commonly seen near Hell’s Gate this year, I am curious to know what prey is attracting them there. Perhaps it is a different type of prey species or one that is high in caloric value than what is in the Mill Rocks and Tichenor Cove areas.

Fig. 4: Intern Nautika Brown looking at Hell’s Gate through the binoculars. Hell’s Gate is the passage between the two large boulders in the distance.

From actively observing whales and learning from my mentor, Celest, I have started to understand that behavior is a critical piece to any form of studying gray whales (and all species). By integrating photo-ID and theodolite tracking, we can learn so much about whale behavior, from where they eat, who is spending time where, and how they may adjust their behavior in response to a changing environment. The TOPAZ/JASPER internship has allowed me to truly comprehend what field research is like, how studying the behaviors of an individual is important, and how detail and patience are extremely necessary when collecting data. As this summer is continuing, I wonder if we will continue to see gray whales primarily feeding in the Hell’s Gate area, or if we will start to observe them more in the Mill Rocks and Tichenor Cove sites like previous years. The thrill of seeing gray whales is unlike any other, and I am so ready to see more whales this season!

References:

Bird, C. N., Pirotta, E., New, L., Bierlich, K. C., Donnelly, M., Hildebrand, L., Fernandez Ajó, A., & Torres, L. G. (2024). Growing into it: Evidence of an ontogenetic shift in grey whale use of foraging tactics. Animal Behaviour, 214, 121–135. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.anbehav.2024.06.004

Hildebrand, L., Derville, S., Hildebrand, I., & Torres, L. G. (2024). Exploring indirect effects of a classic trophic cascade between urchins and kelp on zooplankton and whales. Scientific Reports, 14(1), 9815. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-024-59964-x

Hildebrand, L, Sullivan, F. A., Orben, R. A., Derville. S., Torres L. G. (2022) Trade-offs in prey quantity and quality in gray whale foraging. Mar Ecol Prog Ser 695:189-201 https://doi-org.oregonstate.idm.oclc.org/10.3354/meps14115

A Nauti(k)al Journey with Photo ID  

Nautika Brown, GEMM Lab TOPAZ/JASPER Intern, recent Lake Roosevelt high school graduate 

Hi everyone! I’m Nautika Brown, a recent graduate at Lake Roosevelt High School in a small town on the Colville Indian Reservation in Washington.  

Growing up in beautiful Eastern Washington, I spent most all my days outside and, from the time I could swim, I was in the water. When I was little, I used to wish I was a fish so I could live underwater and swim every day of my life. And since then, I have always been fascinated by all animals that could live in and around water. This very fascination is what sparked the idea of becoming a marine biologist. Animals AND water, perfect! 

(Left): Nautika holding a fish she caught back home in Buffalo Lake.
(Right) Nautika with a new type of catch (purple sea urchin) while conducting a zooplankton drop at station MR 18.

Although, as you might assume, living on a reservation surrounded by wheat fields and a few lakes, there weren’t a lot of opportunities to explore my passion. Hence, when I came across a flyer for the 2025 TOPAZ/JASPER internship just a few days before the deadline, I submitted my application as soon as I could. I was so thrilled, I couldn’t imagine getting the chance to kayak with whales on the ocean! It was all I could talk about for weeks on end. 

Since starting my internship here in Port Orford, I have learned so many new things. During our first couple weeks at the field station, we went through a few different classes and trainings, one of them being a presentation on photo identification by GEMM Lab PhD candidate Lisa Hildebrand. Prior to this presentation, I had no idea photos were so important in marine mammal science. During this presentation, I learned about the many different identifiers of a whale and how you can apply them when looking at photos to identify a specific individual. For example, Lisa’s rule of three’s: to confidently ascertain an individual’s ID, at least 3 consistent characteristics between photos must be matched. At the end of this presentation, we even played a guessing game to test our new photo ID’ing skills. (I did pretty well – not to brag or anything.) 

Now with my new photo ID skills, I was excited to capture a photo of a gray whale. On our second day of training, we did spot a whale—but thanks to my newly learned photo-ID skills, I quickly realized it wasn’t the gray whale I was expecting. When the whale first surfaced, I noticed the lack of dorsal knuckles and its distinctly darker body—clear signs it wasn’t a gray whale, but a humpback whale! While it is common to see gray whales from shore along the Oregon coast as they feed in the very nearshore habitat, humpback whales are typically found in much deeper waters, further from shore. Over the last week we have seen a humpback whale within our study site across several days—and we’re not the only ones!  When chatting with the local fisherman pre and post kayak, a few have expressed their own excitement about seeing a humpback so close to shore as well. Throughout our conversations, the question of why a humpback would be so close to shore weighed on our minds, leading me to do my own online research.  

To investigate whether these humpback sightings have been of the same individual or multiple different whales, I decided to review the photos we have captured to try and determine a match. Once I conducted a first pass of the photos, I downloaded 10 of the most clear and definite shots and compared the photos using Lisa’s rule of threes. After reviewing the photos, I noticed that the humpback whale’s dorsal hump resembled one from a previous sighting, but I couldn’t find any other distinguishing markings on its body. While I couldn’t confirm we have been observing the same humpback whale, I gained a deeper understanding of the importance of clear, high-quality photos in photo-ID work.

(Left) Nautika getting ready to take pictures of whales with camera on our cliff site. 
(Right) Picture of humpback whale caught on camera on our 2nd day of training

After reading a few articles about humpback whale migration through Oregon, I found a few potential reasons behind this whale’s occurrence close to the shores of Port Orford. During the summer months, humpbacks travel to colder, more nutrient-dense places to feed, often near the shelf break (where the depth of the ocean suddenly gets deeper, around 200 m). Interestingly, the shelf break near Port Orford is not far from shore, and is a known hotspot for foraging humpback whales in the summer (Derville et al. 2022).  Humpback whales filter-feed on krill and small fish, so perhaps enough prey has moved into the waters near Port Orford to attract a humpback so close to shore. Another reason for this humpback to be close to shore could be the effects of climate change. As the waters warm, food distribution changes, causing multiple species, including humpbacks, to change their feeding grounds and migration routes (read more here).  Although the humpback sightings are outside the range of our kayak zooplankton sampling stations, it would be interesting to see what prey is in the water that is keeping them around.

So far, I have learned the importance of photo identification in marine mammal science and the many ways it can be used. I’m especially grateful for Lisa’s fun and insightful presentation at the start of the season and even more surprised by how quickly I was able to put those photo-ID skills into practice. With three weeks left in the field season, I’m excited to keep building on what I’ve learned and to keep growing my skills. And speaking of building, I’m also curious to see how my “kayak muscles” are shaping up by the end of this amazing TOPAZ/JASPER internship!  

  (Left) Nautika and Celest on kayak heading Mill Rocks stations. 
(Right) Miranda and Nautika wrapping up kayak training with a celebratory team dab

Derville, S., D.R. Barlow, C. Hayslip, and L.G. Torres, Seasonal, Annual, and Decadal Distribution of Three Rorqual Whale Species Relative to Dynamic Ocean Conditions Off Oregon, USA. Frontiers in Marine Science, 2022. 9: p. 868566.

Speeding Up, Slowing Down, and Choosing My Fig

Celest Sorrentino, incoming master’s student, OSU Dept of Fisheries, Wildlife, and Conservation Sciences, GEMM Lab

It’s late June, a week before I head back to the West Coast, and I’m working one of my last shifts as a server in New York. Summer had just turned on and the humidity was just getting started, but the sun brought about a liveliness in the air that was contagious. Our regulars traded the city heat for beaches in the Hamptons, so I stood by the door, watching the flow of hundreds upon hundreds of people fill the streets of Manhattan. My manager and I always chatted to pass the time between rushes, and he began to ask me how I felt to move across the country and start my master’s program so soon.

“I am so excited!” I beamed, “Also a bit nervous–”

Nervous? Why? 

Are you nervous you’ll become the person you’re meant to be?”

As a first-generation Hispanic student, I found solace in working in hospitality. Working in a restaurant for four years was a means to support myself to attain an undergraduate degree–but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t also love it. I found joy in orchestrating a unique experience for strangers, who themselves brought their own stories to share, each day bestowing opportunity for new friendships or new lessons. This industry requires you to be quick on your feet (never mess with a hungry person’s cacio e pepe), exuding a sense of finesse, continuously alert to your client’s needs and desires all the while always exhibiting a specific ambiance.

So why leave to start my master’s degree?

Fig 1: Me as a server with one of my regulars before his trip to Italy. You can never go wrong with Italian!

For anyone I have not had the pleasure yet to meet, my name is Celest Sorrentino, an incoming master’s student in the GEMM Lab this fall. I am currently writing to you from the Port Orford Field Station, located along the charming south coast of Oregon. Although I am new to the South Coast, my relationship with the GEMM Lab is not, but rather has been warmly cultivated ever since the day I first stepped onto the third floor of the Gladys Valley Building, as an NSF REU intern just two summers ago. Since that particular summer, I have gravitated back to the GEMM Lab every summer since: last summer as a research technician and this summer as a co-lead for the TOPAZ/JASPER Project, a program I will continue to spearhead the next two summers. (The GEMM Lab and me, we just have something– what can I say?)

 In the risk of cementing “cornball” to my identity, pursuing a life in whale research had always been my dream ever since I was a little girl. As I grew older, I found an inclination toward education, in particular a specific joy that could only be found when teaching others, whether that meant teaching the difference between “bottom-up” and “top-bottom” trophic cascades to my peers in college, teaching my 11 year old sister how to do fun braids for middle school, or teaching a room full of researchers how I used SLEAP A.I. to track gray whale mother-calf pairs in drone footage.

Onboarding to the TOPAZ/JASPER project was a new world to me, which required me to quickly learn the ins and outs of a program, and eventually being handed the reins of responsibility of the team, all within 1 month and a half. While the TOPAZ/JASPER 2024 team (aka Team Protein!) and I approach our 5th week of field season, to say we have learned “so much” is an understatement.

Our morning data collection commences at 6:30 AM, with each of us alternating daily between the cliff team and kayak team. 

For kayak team, its imperative to assemble all supplies swiftly given that we’re in a race against time, to outrun the inevitable windy/foggy weather conditions. However, diligence is required; if you forget your paddles back at lab or if you run out of charged batteries, that’s less time on the water to collect data and more time for the weather to gain in on you. We speed up against the weather, but also slow down for the details.

Fig 2: Throwback to our first kayak training day with Oceana (left), Sophia(middle), and Eden (right).

For cliff team, we have joined teams with time. At some point within the last few weeks, each of us on the cliff have had to uncover the dexterity within to become true marine mammal observers (for five or six hours straight). Here we survey for any slight shift in a sea of blue that could indicate the presence of a whale– and once we do… its go time. Once a whale blows, miles offshore, the individual manning the theodolite has just a few seconds to find and focus the reticle before the blow dissipates into the wind. If they miss it… its one less coordinate of that whale’s track. We speed up against the whale’s blow, but also slow down for the details. 

Fig 3: Cliff team tracking a whale out by Mill Rocks!

I have found the pattern of speeding up and slowing down are parallels outside of field work as well. In Port Orford specifically, slowing down has felt just as invigorating as the first breath one takes out of the water. For instance, the daily choice we make to squeeze 5 scientists into the world’s slowest elevator down to the lab every morning may not be practical in everyday life, but the extra minute looking at each other’s sleepy faces sets the foundation for our “go” mode. We also sit down after a day of fieldwork, as a team, eating our 5th version of pasta and meatballs while we continue our Hunger Games movie marathon from the night prior. And we chose our “off-day” to stroll among nature’s gentle giants, experiencing together the awe of the Redwoods trees.

Fig 4A & 4B: (A) Team Protein (Sophia, Oceana, Allison, Eden and I) slow morning elevator ride down to the lab. (B) Sophia hugging a tree at the Redwoods!

When my manager asked the above question, I couldn’t help but think upon an excerpt, popularly known as “The Fig Tree” by Sylvia Plath.

Fig 5: The Fig Tree excerpt by Sylvia Plath. Picture credits to @samefacecollective on Instagram.

For my fig tree, I imagine it as grandiose as those Redwood trees. What makes each of us choose one fig over the other is highly variable, just as our figs of possibilities, some of which we can’t make out quite yet. At some point along my life, the fig of owning a restaurant in the Big Apple propped up. But in that moment with my manager, I imagined my oldest fig, with little Celest sitting on the living room floor watching ocean documentaries and wanting nothing more than to conduct whale research, now winking at me as I start my master’s within the GEMM Lab. Your figs might be different from mine but what I believe we share in common is the alternating pace toward our fig. At times we need speeding up while other times we just need slowing down.

Then there’s that sweet spot in between where we can experience both, just as I have being a part of the 2024 TOPAZ/JASPER team.

Fig 6A and 6B: (A) My sister and I excited to go see some dolphins for the first time! (~2008). (B) Taking undergraduate graduation pics with my favorite whale plushy! (2023)

Fig 7: Team Protein takes on Port Orford Minimal Carnival, lots of needed booging after finishing field work!

A Journey From Microbiology to Macrobiology

Mariam Alsaid, University of California Berkeley, GEMM Lab REU Intern

My name is Mariam Alsaid and I am currently a 5th year undergraduate transfer student at the University of California, Berkeley. Growing up on the small island of Bahrain, I was always minutes away from the water and was enraptured by the creatures that lie beneath the surface. Despite my long-standing interest in marine science, I never had the opportunity to explore it until just a few months ago. My professional background up until this point was predominantly in soil microbiology through my work with Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory, and I was anxious about how I would switch directions and finally be able to pursue my main passion. For this reason, I was thrilled by my acceptance into the OSU Hatfield Marine Science Center’s REU program this year, which led to my exciting collaboration with the GEMM Lab. It was kind of a silly transition to go from studying bacteria, one of the smallest organisms on earth, to whales, who are the largest.

My project this summer focused on sei whale acoustic occurrence off the coast of Oregon. “What’s a sei whale?” is a question I heard a lot throughout the summer and is one that I had to Google myself several times before starting my internship. Believe it or not, sei whales are the third largest rorqual in the world but don’t get much publicity because of their small population sizes and secretive behavior. The commercial whaling industry of the 19th and 20th centuries did a number on sei whale populations globally, rendering them endangered. In consequence, little research has been conducted on their global range, habitat use, and behavior since the ban of commercial whaling in 1986 (Nieukirk et al. 2020). Additionally, sei whales are relatively challenging to study because of their physical similarities to the fin whale, and acoustic similarities to other rorqual vocalizations, most notably blue whale D-calls and fin whale 40 Hz calls. As of today, published literature indicates that sei whale acoustic presence in the Pacific Ocean is restricted to Antarctica, Chile, Hawaii, and possibly British Columbia, Canada (Mcdonald et al. 2005; Espanol-Jiminez et al. 2019; Rankin and Barlow, 2012; Burnham et al. 2019). The idea behind this research project was sparked by sparse visual sightings of sei whales by research cruises conducted by the Marine Mammal Institute (MMI) in recent years (Figure 1). This raised questions about if sei whales are really present in Oregon waters (and not just misidentified fin whales) and if so, how often?

Figure 1. Map of sei whale visual sightings off the coast of Oregon, colored by MMI Lab research cruise, and the location of the hydrophone at NH45 (white star).

A hydrophone, which is a fancy piece of equipment that records continuous underwater sound, was deployed 45 miles offshore of Newport, OR between October of 2021 and December of 2022. My role this summer was to use this acoustic data to determine whether sei whales are hanging out in Oregon or not. Acoustic data was analyzed using the software Raven Pro, which allowed me to visualize sound in the form of spectrograms (Fig. 2). From there, my task was to select signals that could potentially be sei whale calls. It was a hurdle familiarizing myself with sei whale vocalizations while also keeping in mind that other species (e.g., blue and fin whales) may produce similar sounding (and looking in the spectrograms) calls. For this reason, I decided to establish confidence levels based on published sei whale acoustic research that would help me classify calls with less bias. Vocalizations produced by sei whales are characterized by low frequency, broadband, downsweeps. Sei whales can be acoustically distinguished from other whales because of their tendency to produce uniform groups of calls (typically in doublets and triplets) in a short timeframe. This key finding allowed me to navigate the acoustic data with more ease.

The majority of the summer was spent slowly scanning through the months of data at 5-minute increments. As you can imagine, excitement varied by day. Some days I would find insanely clear signals of blue, fin, and humpback whales and other days I would find nothing. The major discovery and the light at the end of the tunnel was the SEI WHALES!!! I detected numerous high quality sei whale calls throughout the study period with peaks in October and November (but a significantly higher peak in occurrence in 2022 versus 2021). I also encountered a unique vocalization type in fall of 2022, consisting of a very long series of repeated calls that we called “multiplet”, rather than doublets or triplets that is more typical of sei whales (Fig. 3). Lastly, I found no significant diel pattern in sei whale vocalization, indicating that these animals call at any hour of the day. More research needs to go into this project to better estimate sei whale occurrence and understand their behavior in Oregon but this preliminary work provides a great baseline into what sei whales sound like in this part of the world. In the future, the GEMM lab intends on implementing more hydrophone data and work on developing an automated detection system that would identify sei whale calls automatically.

Figure 2. Spectrogram of typical sei whale calls detected in acoustic data
Figure 3. Spectrogram of unique sei whale multiplet call type
Figure 4. My first time conducting fieldwork! I spent a few mornings assisting Dr. Rachel Orben’s group in surveying murre and cormorant nests (thanks to my good friend Jacque McKay :))

My experience this summer was so formative for me. As someone who has been an aspiring marine biologist for so long, I am so grateful for my experience working with the GEMM Lab alongside incredible scientists who are equally passionate about studying the mysteries of the ocean. This experience has also piqued my interest in bioacoustics and I plan on searching for other opportunities to explore the field in the future. Aside from growing professionally, I learned that I am more capable of tackling and overcoming obstacles than I had thought. I was afraid of entering a field that I knew so little about and was worried about failing and not fitting in. My anxieties were overshadowed by the welcoming atmosphere at Hatfield and I could not have asked for better people to work with. As I was searching for sei whale calls this summer, I suppose that I was also unintentionally searching for my voice as a young scientist in a great, blue field.

Figure 5. My mentor, Dr. Dawn Barlow, and I with my research poster at the Hatfield Marine Science Center Coastal Intern Symposium

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References:

Nieukirk, S. L., Mellinger, D. K., Dziak, R. P., Matsumoto, H., & Klinck, H. (2020). Multi-year occurrence of sei whale calls in North Atlantic polar waters. The Journal of the Acoustical Society of America, 147(3), 1842–1850. https://doi.org/10.1121/10.0000931

McDonald, M. A., Calambokidis, J., Teranishi, A. M., & Hildebrand, J. A. (2001). The acoustic calls of blue whales off California with gender data. The Journal of the Acoustical Society of America, 109(4), 1728–1735. https://doi.org/10.1121/1.1353593

Español-Jiménez, S., Bahamonde, P. A., Chiang, G., & Häussermann, V. (2019). Discovering sounds in Patagonia: Characterizing sei whale (<i>Balaenoptera borealis</i>) downsweeps in the south-eastern Pacific Ocean. Ocean Science, 15(1), 75–82. https://doi.org/10.5194/os-15-75-2019

Rankin, S., & Barlow, J. (2007). VOCALIZATIONS OF THE SEI WHALE BALAENOPTERA BOREALIS OFF THE HAWAIIAN ISLANDS. Bioacoustics, 16(2), 137–145. https://doi.org/10.1080/09524622.2007.9753572

Burnham, R. E., Duffus, D. A., & Mouy, X. (2019). The presence of large whale species in Clayoquot Sound and its offshore waters. Continental Shelf Research, 177, 15–23. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.csr.2019.03.004

That’s so Real: Adult Beginners, Serial Podcast(s), and a whole lotta of Baja Gray Whale Video Analysis.

Celest Sorrentino, Research Technician, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

Hello again GEMM Lab family. I write to you exactly a year after (okay maybe 361 days after but who’s counting…) from my previous blog post describing my 2022 summer working in the GEMM Lab as an NSF REU intern. Since then, so much has changed, and I can’t wait to fill you in on it.

In June I walked across the commencement stage at UC Santa Barbara, earning my BS in Ecology, Evolution, and Marine Biology and my minor in Italian language. A week later, I packed my bags and headed straight back to the lukewarm beaches of Newport, Oregon as a Research Technician in the GEMM Lab. I am incredibly fortunate to have been invited back to the OSU Marine Mammal Institute to lend a hand analyzing drone footage of gray whales collected back in March 2023 when Leigh and Clara went down to Baja California, as mentioned previously in Clara’s blog

Fig. 1. View from the top! (of the bridge at Yaquina Bay Bridge in Newport, OR)

During my first meeting with Clara at the beginning of the summer we discussed that a primary goal of my position was to process all the drone footage collected in Baja so that the generated video clips could be later used in other analytical software such as BORIS and SLEAP A.I. Given my previous internships and past summer project, this video processing is familiar to me. My initial thoughts were:

Sweet! Watch drone footage, pop in some podcasts, note down when I see whales, let’s do this!*

Like any overly eager 23-year-old, I might have mentally cracked open a Celsius and kicked my feet up too soon. We added another layer to the goal: develop an ethogram – which requires me to identify and define the behaviors that the gray whales appear to be demonstrating within the videos (more on ethogram development in Clara’s previous blog.) This made me nervous. 

I don’t have any experience with behavior. How do I tell what is a real behavior or if the whale is just existing? What if I’m wrong and ruin the project? What if I totally mess this up?

Naturally, as any sane person, to resolve these thoughts I took to the Reddit search bar: “How to do a job you’ve never done before.” No dice. 

I pushed these thoughts aside and decided to just start the video analysis process. Clara provided me with the ethogram she is developing during her PhD as a point of reference (based on the published gray whale ethogram in Torres et al. 2018), I was surrounded by an insanely supportive lab, and I could Google anything at my fingertips. Fast-forward 6 weeks later: I had analyzed 128 drone videos of adult gray whales as well as mother-calf pairs, and developed an ethogram describing, 26 behaviors**. I named one of my favorite behaviors  a “Twirl” to describe when a gray whale lifts their head out of the water and performs a 360 turn. Reminds me of times when as a kid, sometimes all you really needed is a good spin!

Now I was ready to start a productive, open conversation with Leigh and Clara about this ethogram and my work. However, even walking up to that last meeting, remnants of those daunting, doubtful early summer thoughts persisted. Even after I double checked all the definitions I wrote, rewatched all videos with said behaviors, and had something to show for my work. What gives Brain?

A few days ago, as I sat on my family’s living room couch with my two younger sisters, Baylie and Cassey, Baylie wanted to watch some TikToks with me. One video that came up was of a group of adults taking a beginner dance class, having so much fun and radiating joy. The caption read, Being a beginner as an adult is such a fun and wild thing. Baylie and I watched the video at least 10x, repeating to each other phrases like, “Wow!” and “They’re so cool.” That caption and video has been on my mind since: 

Being a beginner as an adult is such a fun and wild thing.

Being a beginner as an adult is also scary. 

Having just graduated, I can no longer say I am undergraduate student. Now, I am a young adult. This was my first research technician job, as an adult. Don’t adults usually have everything figured out? Can adults be beginners too?

Yes. In fact, we’re beginners more than we realize. 

  • I was a beginner cooking my mother’s turkey recipe 3 years ago for my housemates during the pandemic (Even after having her on Facetime, I still managed to broil it a little too long.) 
  • I was a beginner driver 5 years ago in a rickety Jeep driving myself to school (Now, since I’ve been back home, I’ve been driving my little sisters to school.)
  • I was a beginner NSF REU intern just a year ago. (This summer I was the alumni on the panel for the current NSF REU interns at Hatfield.)
  • I was a beginner science communicator presenting my NSF REU project at Hatfield last summer. (This summer, I presented my research at the Animal Behavior Society Conference.) 
Fig 2A. Group Pic with the LABIRINTO Lab and GEMM Lab at the ABS Portland Conference!
Fig 2B. Clara Bird (left), Dr. Leigh Torres (middle), and I (right) at the ABS Portland Conference. 

I now recognize that during my time identifying and defining behaviors of gray whales in videos made me take on the seat of a “beginner video and behavioral analyst”. I could not rely on the automated computer vision lens I gained from previous internships, which felt familiar and secure. 

 Instead, I had to allow myself to be creative. Dig into the unfamiliar in an effort to complete a task or job I had never done before. Allowing myself to be imperfect, make mistakes, meanwhile unconsciously building a new skill. 

This is what makes being a beginner as an adult such a fun thing. 

I don’t think being a beginner is a wild thing, although it can definitely make you feel a wild range of emotions. Being a beginner means you’re allowing yourself to try something new. Being a beginner means you’re allowing yourself the chance to learn.

Whether you’re an adult beginner as you enter your 30s, adult beginner as you enter parenthood, adult beginner grabbing a drink with friends after a long day in lab, adult beginner as a dancer, or like me, a beginner of leaving behind my college student persona and entering a new identity of adulthood, being a beginner as an adult is such a fun and normal thing.

I am not sure what will be next, but I hope to write to you all again from this blog a year from now, as an adult beginner as a grad student in the GEMM Lab. For anyone approaching the question of “What’s next”, I encourage you to read “Never a straight Path” by GEMM Lab MSc alum Florence Sullivan, a blog that has brought me such solace in my new adult journey and advice that never gets old.

Being a beginner—that, is so real. 

Fig 3A. Kayaking as an adult beginner of the Port Orford Field Team!
Fig 3B “See you soon:” Wolftree evenings with the lab.
Fig 3C. GEMM Lab first BeReal!

*I listened to way too many podcasts to list them all, but I will include two that have been a GEMM Lab “gem” —-thanks to Lisa and Clara for looping me in and now, looping you in!)

**(subject to change)

References

Torres LG, Nieukirk SL, Lemos L, Chandler TE (2018) Drone Up! Quantifying Whale Behavior From a New Perspective Improves Observational Capacity. Front Mar Sci 510.3389/fmars.2018.00319

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A glimpse into the world of marine biological research

By Abby Tomita, undergraduate student, OSU College of Earth, Ocean, and Atmospheric Sciences

From long days in Newport performing the patience-testing task of bomb calorimetry, to spending hours transfixed by the microscopic world that exists in our oceans, I recently got an amazing glimpse into the world of marine biological research working with PhD student Rachel Kaplan. She has been an amazing teacher to my fellow intern Hadley and I, showing us the basics of the research process and introducing us to so many wonderful people at NOAA and the GEMM Lab. I am in my third year studying oceanography here at OSU and had no real lab experience before this, so I was eager to explore this area of research, and not only learn new information about our oceans, but also to see the research process up close and personal. 

 After being trained by Jennifer Fisher, a NOAA Research Fisheries Biologist, I sorted through zooplankton samples collected on the R/V Bell M. Shimada from the Northern California Current region. This data will be used to get an idea of where krill are found throughout the year, and in what abundances. Though my focus was mainly on two species of krill, I also found an assortment of other organisms, such as larval fish, squid, copepods, crabs, and tons of jellies, which were super interesting to see.

A small group of larval squid and other unknown species (photo by Abby Tomita).

I also studied krill through a technique called bomb calorimetry, which is not for the faint of heart! It takes a tough soul to be able to put these complex little creatures into a mortar and pestle and grind them into a dust that hits your nose like pepper. They then take their final resting place into the bomb calorimetry machine (which can and will find something to fuss over) until it finally manages to ignite and dispose of the krill’s remains. The light that guided me through this dark tunnel was the knowledge that these sacrificial krill were taken in the name of science, with the aim of eventually decreasing whale entanglements.

Abby placing the pellet within the coil for the bomb.

That, and Rachel’s contagious positivity. In the early stages, we would spend the majority of our time troubleshooting after constant “misfires”, in which the machine fails to combust the sample properly. Bomb calorimetry involves many tedious steps, and working with such small quantities of tissue – a single krill could weigh 0.01 grams or even less – poses a plethora of its own challenges. One of my biggest takeaways from this experience was to have patience with this kind of work and know when to take a much-needed dance break. Things often do not work out according to plan, and getting to see first-hand how to adapt to confounding variables and hitches in the procedure was an invaluable lesson.

I also got to see how collaborative the research process is. We received helpful advice from other members of the GEMM Lab at lunch, as well as constant help from our esteemed Resident Bomb Cal Expert, Elizabeth Daly. It was comforting for me to see that even when you are doing independent research, you are not expected to only work alone, and there can be so much community in higher level research.   

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Bombs Away! A Summer of Bomb Calorimetry

By Hadley Robinson, undergraduate student, OSU College of Earth, Ocean, and Atmospheric Sciences and School of Language, Culture, and Society

My name is Hadley Robinson and I am a sophomore undergraduate at OSU, double majoring in Environmental Science and Spanish. This summer, I had the privilege of working with Rachel on her PhD research project involving bomb calorimetry, a technique that allows you to quantify the caloric content of organisms like the zooplankton krill.

Hadley preparing the bomb calorimetry machine to run a sample (photo by Rachel Kaplan).

Prior to this internship, I had never worked in a lab before, and as an environmental science major, I had no previous exposure to oceanography. The connection that Rachel made between our labwork and the broader goal of helping decrease whale entanglement events sparked my interest in this project. Our work this summer aimed to process a set of krill samples collected off the coast of Oregon and Washington, so that we could find the number of calories in single krill, and then look at patterns in krill caloric content based on their species, sex, and other characteristics. 

We first identified the krill by species and sex (this was my favorite part of the experiment!). I not only loved looking at them under the microscope, but I also loved how it became a collaborative process. We quickly began getting each other’s opinions on whether or not a krill was Euphausia pacifica, Thysanoessa spinifera, male, female, sexless, gravid (carrying eggs), and much more.

Female Thysanoessa spinifera krill (photo by Abby Tomita).

After identification, we weighed and dried the krill, and finally turned them into small pellets that could fit in an instrument called a bomb calorimeter. These pellets were placed individually into in a “bomb cell” that could then be filled with oxygen and receive a shock from a metal wire. When the machine sent an electric pulse through the wire and combusted the krill pellet, the water surrounding the bomb cell warmed very slightly. The instrument measures this minute temperature change and uses it to calculate the amount of energy in the combusted material. With this information, we were able to quantify how many calories each krill sample contained. Eventually, this data could be used to create a seasonal caloric map of the ocean. Assuming that foraging whales seek out regions with calorically dense prey, such a map could play a crucial role in predicting whale distributions. 

Working with Rachel taught me how dynamic the world of research really is. There were many variables that we had to control and factor into our process, such as the possibility of high-calorie lipids being lost if the samples became too warm during the identification process, the risk of a dried krill becoming rehumidified if it sat out in the open air, and even the tiny amount of krill powder inevitably lost in the pelletization process. This made me realize that we cannot control everything! Grappling with these realities taught me to think quickly, adapt, and most importantly, realize that it is okay to refine the process of research as it is being conducted. 

Intern Abby (left) pressing the krill powder into a pellet and Hadley (right) prepping the bomb (photo by Rachel Kaplan).

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Supporting marine life conservation as an outsider: Blue whales and earthquakes

By Mateo Estrada Jorge, Oregon State University undergraduate student, GEMM Lab REU Intern

Introduction

My name is Mateo Estrada and this past summer I had the pleasure of working with Dawn Barlow and Dr. Leigh Torres as a National Science Foundation (NSF) Research Experience for Undergraduates (REU) intern. I had the chance to proactively learn about the scientific method in the marine sciences by studying the acoustic behaviors of pygmy blue whales (Balaenoptera musculus brevicauda) that are documented residents of the South Taranaki Bight region in New Zealand (Torres 2013, Barlow et al. 2018). I’ve been interested in conducting scientific research since I began my undergraduate education at Oregon State University in 2015. Having the opportunity to apply the skills I gained through my education in this REU has been a blessing. I’m a physics and computer science major, but more than anything I’m a scientist and my passion has taken me in new, unexpected directions that I’m going to share in this blog post. My message for any students who feel like they haven’t found their path yet is: hang in there, sometimes it takes time for things to take shape. That has been my experience and I’m sure it’s been the experience of many people interested in the sciences. I’m a Physics and Computer Science student, so why am I studying blue whales, and more specifically, how can I be doing marine science research having only taken intro to biology 101?

My background

I decided to apply for the REU in the Spring 2021 because it was a chance to use my programming skills in the marine sciences. I’m also passionate about conservation and protecting the environment in a pragmatic way, so I decided to find a niche where I could put my technical skills to good use. Finally, I wanted to explore a scientific field outside of my area of expertise to grow as a student and to learn from other researchers. I was mostly inspired by anecdotal tales of Physicist Richard Feynman who would venture out of the physics department at Caltech and into other departments to learn about what other scientists were investigating to inspire his own work. This summer, I ventured into the world of marine science, and what I found in my project was fascinating.

Whale watching tour

Figure 1. Me standing on a boat on the Pacific Ocean off Long Beach, CA.

To get into the research mode, I decided to go on a whale watching tour with the Aquarium of the Pacific. The tour was two hours long and the sunburn was worth it because we got to see four blue whales off the Long Beach coast in California. I got to see the famous blue whale blow and their splashes. It was the first time I was on a big boat in the ocean, so naturally I got seasick (Fig 1). But it was exciting to get a chance to see blue whales in action (luckily, I didn’t actually hurl). The marine biologist onboard also gave a quick lecture on the relative size of blue whales and some of their behaviors. She also pointed out that they don’t use Sonar to locate whales as this has been shown to disturb their calling behaviors. Instead, we looked for a blow and splashing. The tour was a wonderful experience and I’m glad I got to see some whales out in nature. This experience also served as a reminder of the beauty of marine life and the responsibility I feel for trying to understand and help conserving it.

Context of blue whale calling

Sound plays a significant role in the marine environment and is a critical mode of communication for many marine animals including baleen whales. Blue whales produce different vocalizations, otherwise known as calls.  Blue whale song is theorized to be produced by males of the species as a form of reproductive behavior, similar to how male peacocks engage females by displaying their elongated upper tail covert feathers in iridescent colors as a courtship mechanism. Then there are “D calls” that are associated with social mechanisms while foraging, and these calls are made by both female and male blue whales (Lewis et al. 2018) (Fig. 2).

Figure 2. Spectrogram of Pygmy blue whale D calls manually (and automatically) selected, frequency 0-150 Hz.

Understanding research on blue whales

The most difficult part about coming into a project as an outsider is catching up. I learned how anthropogenetic (human made) noise affects blue whale communication. For example, it has been showing that Mid Frequency Active Sonar signals employed by the U.S. Navy affect blue whale D calling patterns (Melcón 2012). Furthermore, noise from seismic airguns used for oil and gas exploration has also impact blue whale calling behavior (Di Lorio, 2010). Understanding the environmental context in which the pygmy blue whales live and the anthropogenic pressures they face is essential in marine conservation. Protecting the areas in which they live is important so they can feed, reproduce and thrive effectively. What began as a slowly falling snowflake at the start of a snowstorm turned into a cascading avalanche of knowledge pouring into my mind in just two weeks.

Figure 3. The white stars show the hydrophone locations (n = 5). A bathymetric scale of the depth is also given.

The research question I set out to tackle in my internship was: do blue whales change their calling behavior in response to natural noise events from earthquake activity? To do this, I used acoustic recordings from five hydrophones deployed in the South Taranaki Bight (Fig. 3), paired with an existing dataset of all recorded earthquakes in New Zealand (GeoNet). I identified known earthquakes in our acoustic recordings, and then examined the blue whale D calls during 4 hours before and after each earthquake event to look for any change in the number of calls, call energy, entropy, or bandwidth.

A great mentor and lab team

The days kept passing and blending into each other, as they often do with remote work. I began to feel isolated from the people I was working with and the blue whales I was studying. The zoom calls, group chats, and working alongside other remote interns kept me afloat as I adapted to a work world fully online. Nevertheless, I was happy to continue working on this project because I felt like I was slowly becoming part of the GEMM Lab. I would meet with my mentor Dawn Barlow at least once a week and we would spend time talking about the project and sorting out the difficult details of data processing. She always encouraged my curiosity to ask questions. Even if they were silly questions, she was happy to ponder them because she is a curious scientist like myself.

What we learned

Pygmy blue whales from the South Taranaki Bight region do not change their acoustic behavior in response to earthquake activity. The energy of the earthquake, magnitude, depth, and distance to the origin all had no influence on the number of blue whale D calls, the energy of their calling, the entropy, and the bandwidth. A likely reason for why the blue whales would have no acoustic response to earthquakes (magnitude < 5) is that the STB region is a seismically active region due to the nearby interface of the Australian and Pacific plates. Because of the plate tectonics, the region averages about 20,000 recorded earthquakes per year (GeoNet: Earthquake Statistics). Given that pygmy blue whales are present in the STB region year-round (Barlow et al. 2018), the blue whales may have adapted to tolerate the earthquake activity (Fig 4).

Figure 4. Earthquake signal from MARU (1, 2, 3, 4, 5) and blue whale D calls, Frequency 0-150 Hz.

Looking at the future

I presented my work at the end of my REU internship program, which was a difficult challenge for me because I am often intimidated by public speaking (who isn’t?). Communicating science has always been a big interest of me. I love reading news articles about new breakthroughs and being a small part of that is a huge privilege for me. Finding my own voice and having new insights to contribute to the scientific world has always been my main objective. Now I will get to deliver a poster presentation of my REU work at the Association for the Sciences of Limnology and Oceanography (ASLO) Conference in March 2022. I am both excited and nervous to take on this new adventure of meeting seasoned professionals, communicating my results, and learning about the ocean sciences. I hope to gain new inspirations for my future academic and professional work.

References:

About Earthquake Drums – GeoNet. geonet.Org. Retrieved June 23, 2021, from https://www.geonet.org.nz/about/earthquake/drums

Barlow, D. R., Torres, L. G., Hodge, K. B., Steel, D., Scott Baker, C., Chandler, T. E., Bott, N., Constantine, R., Double, M. C., Gill, P., Glasgow, D., Hamner, R. M., Lilley, C., Ogle, M., Olson, P. A., Peters, C., Stockin, K. A., Tessaglia-Hymes, C. T., & Klinck, H. (2018). Documentation of a New Zealand blue whale population based on multiple lines of evidence. Endangered Species Research, 36, 27–40. https://doi.org/10.3354/esr00891

Di Iorio, L., & Clark, C. W. (2010). Exposure to seismic survey alters blue whale acoustic communication. Biology Letters, 6(3), 334–335. https://doi.org/10.1098/rsbl.2009.0967

Lewis, L. A., Calambokidis, J., Stimpert, A. K., Fahlbusch, J., Friedlaender, A. S., McKenna, M. F., Mesnick, S. L., Oleson, E. M., Southall, B. L., Szesciorka, A. R., & Sirović, A. (2018). Context-dependent variability in blue whale acoustic behaviour. Royal Society Open Science, 5(8). https://doi.org/10.1098/rsos.180241

Melcón, M. L., Cummins, A. J., Kerosky, S. M., Roche, L. K., Wiggins, S. M., & Hildebrand, J. A. (2012). Blue whales respond to anthropogenic noise. PLoS ONE, 7(2), 1–6. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0032681

Torres LG. 2013 Evidence for an unrecognised blue whale foraging ground in New Zealand. NZ J. Mar. Freshwater Res. 47, 235–248. (doi:10. 1080/00288330.2013.773919)