Charleston Charters

For my summer project, I’ve been working on the curriculum development of the Guide and Outfitters Recognized Professional program, also known as the GORP program. The purpose of the GORP program is to create an educational standard for guides and increase the professionalism of guiding. This way, guides who go through the program can better market themselves to their visitors and help them get more out of their experiences. At this point in the summer, I have finished most of my work on the curriculum aspect and am now starting to interview guides to learn more about what the profession and how the GORP program may help them.

Charleston is well known as a small town with beautiful views of the marina and excellent fishing. The best way to experience fishing in the area is going out with one of the three charter companies. I got to meet with two charters and learn about their owners, and what makes each business so special.

Captain John Blanchard single handedly runs Sharky’s Charters. John started as a commercial fisherman but decided to switch to guiding and has lead charters for four years now. He is the only captain, and takes out smaller groups of 4-6, which is a great way to get more valuable one-on-one instruction. When asked what his favorite part of being a guide was, he said that he likes meeting people and forming friendships with his customers, who frequently return for fishing trips. He also loves sharing his passion with others and remarked “If you do what you love, you don’t work a day in your life”.

Kurt Smith is one of the two captains at Betty Kay’s Charters and has about 18 years of experience. He will be taking over as owner of the company in the upcoming months. Kurt takes pride in his charter company’s commitment to customer service and making sure that every customer has a fun trip and great experience. He thinks that the value provided by hiring a guide is immeasurable, as they have all the “local insight” and know where the fish are better that any visitor could figure out on their own. Betty Kay’s is able to accommodate larger groups and more people depending on trips, fitting about 20 passengers on a boat.

One of the universal factor of fishing charters is they are entirely weather dependent. If the ocean is too rough or winds are too strong, they must cancel charter trips for that day, so it is important to be flexible when hiring a charter company. If you or someone you know is interested in fishing in the Charleston area, try giving one of the local charter companies a call!

OSG Summer 2.0: Interviewing Fishers along the Oregon Coast

On Thursday, July 12th, my mentor Dr. Beth Marino and I joined a virtual meeting. I had high hopes; for four weeks I had been waiting to hear if I had approval to conduct my primary research project, which was to interview fishermen up and down the Oregon coast. The work I had been doing up until this point was constructive for my own understanding of coastal attitudes and was applicable to the broader goals of the Human Dimensions Project of the ODFW Marine Reserves Program, but it didn’t feel like something I could own. Granted, the results of this well-being survey, which no doubt I will outline in my final blog post in a couple of weeks, fascinate me because they get to the root of how people think. They reveal the lenses by which people view the world, and the thought processes they engage in when confronted with change. I invested the time in making sense of these responses, but I was not involved in the initial process of helping those responses emerge.

This distinction is important to me because other than being a scientist, I am also an artist, a dancer. Creating and leaving my own mark on the world is a part of my character. This is why I was itching to get started on what I was brought to Oregon to do in the first place: to help stories be heard.

On Thursday, July 12th, we were virtually meeting with a member of Oregon State University’s Institutional Review Board who would decide if the revisions associated with my involvement in Beth’s project could adequately protect the confidentiality of the interviewees. Already a week delayed, we thought this would be the day. But not quite.

I had an interview lined up for the next day that I had to reschedule (which, in retrospect, was for the better–I wasn’t prepared for a daylong road-trip, despite my eagerness).

So I waited until Monday while Beth meticulously worked at getting the project revision approved. Noon ticked by, and I still hadn’t heard. One fisherman was ready to meet 45 minutes away, and I was just waiting to have the go ahead.

I got the text message at 4 pm. And the rest of my summer began.

Me with my trusty state-owned Ford Fusion, which has helped me travel approximately 200 miles up and down the coast to conduct interviews.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Without hesitation I gathered my recording equipment, hopped into the state car, and was on my way to Depoe Bay. My first interview exceeded all expectations: the fisherman I spoke with was very open about his responses, could see the world from multiple perspectives, and had a rich understanding of both his community and the biological world that his work depends upon. We had conversations about the marine reserves, management practices, conservation, and his life as a fisher…all of which lasted for 1 hour and 40 minutes (for perspective, we anticipate good interviews to last anywhere from 30 minutes to 2 hours). I drove back home beaming, for I felt like this was the type of work I was meant to do.

The next interview was two days later and 80 miles north of Newport in a beautiful place called Garibaldi. To hear my first impression and thoughts right after rolling up to the coffee shop, watch this video.  Garibaldi is situated in a beautiful slice of the Oregon coast right where the ocean pours into a freshwater valley. The neighboring town is Tillamook, famous for their dairy products, and while driving back I got the chance to briefly check out what the town is so famous for.

The Great Northern Railway stationed in Garibaldi, right outside of the coffee shop where I conducted my interview, with a smokestack in the background.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My second interview was entirely different from the first; this fisherman was a fourth generation fisher, and his sons and grandchildren are continuing the culture. His operation runs from Alaska to California and they catch everything from salmon to Dungeness crab. This hour and 20 minute long conversation, which touched on the same themes as before, went in entirely different directions–especially with respect to conservation and management. Being involved in multiple states, he noted that he felt a difference in how management and policy-making decisions were handled in Alaska versus Oregon. Though the “Oregon Way,” or the culture of public inclusion in government decision-making, is perceived as prevalent in Oregon, this fisher suggested that based on the model of Alaska there is room for improvement. He wished managers had more of an open door to those involved in commercial resource industries.

These interviews are intended to measure the impacts of the marine reserves on people in the commercial and charter fishing community, but this point illustrates how these conversations can be applied to issues beyond the marine reserves. They aim to represent a voice not typically heard, and so long as they are representative of the fishing community as a whole, these words can be used to inform management practices and policy. Local knowledge from fishers about the ocean itself can help scientists design more effective studies.  These conversations can open the door to more constructive dialogues about how we as humans relate to our environment.

Some fantastic rock formations in Tillamook Bay, captured while standing next to the railroad tracks along the waterfront.

So far, these fishers have expressed that they want responsible management. They advocate for science that supports their livelihoods. They want more research. They don’t all see eye to eye on every issue, but as far as I have heard, science is not the enemy.

This is just the beginning for me, and I am sure that I will interview people with more divergent opinions than my own. And it will be a challenge for me to steer the conversation in the right direction, but I am confident that I will be able to do it. Divergent opinions, as long as they don’t harm other people, I believe are healthy for society. I love listening to how other people see the world, with a grain of salt. And sometimes, beautiful narratives emerge.

When I was first being trained by Beth, she was telling me and my other mentor, Dr. Tommy Swearingen, about an interview she had just completed that had brought her to tears. She told me that there is something about the openness of the interview environment that allows people (both the interviewee and the interviewer) to divulge stories that in typical settings wouldn’t be discussed. On my fourth interview in Newport, I experienced a genuine, moving moment like this. I asked him if his life as a fisherman was fulfilling, and as he spoke I could tell he loved his line of work. He said every morning he got up at 4:30 am, made his black coffee, made plans for the day, and couldn’t wait to venture out on the boat. I wish you could have heard him say this, for I could feel his joy and it made my eyes blur. He loves this life.

I get paid to be moved by the stories of others. I cannot be more grateful that this is how I am spending my summer.

The Newport bridge, which I cross on my journeys. I wonder where I will go next?

NOAA Fisheries Fish Cutting Party

In an effort to escape the snail pace of cubicle work I reached out to my Marine Biology professor at Hatfield Marine Science Center to discuss possible field opportunities. I was very fortunate that professor Itchung Cheung (also how I learned about the Summer Scholars internship) recommended an upcoming NOAA event at Hatfield. So on his recommendation, last week I was fortunate to attend the NOAA Fish Cutting party 2018 during which we processed 1981 salmonids (primarily coho and chinook). The goal of the Fish Cutting party is to process the samples that are collected annually during the Juvenile Salmon Sampling Program. To process a juvenile salmon a number of samples and measurements are needed.

Transect map of fish collection sites for annual juvenile salmon sampling program

Transects sampled for coho and yearling and subyearling Chinook salmon, 1998 –present. (provided by NOAA Fisheries)

To begin, a length and weight are often collected and then the fish is scanned on a metal detector to indicate presence of a coded wire tag, pit tag, or combination of both. Coded wire tags (CWT) provide information regarding the origin of the fish or which hatchery it was released from. These metal tags are smaller than a grain of rice and usually inserted into the snout of the fish. Pit tags, about the size of a grain of rice, provide information such as migration patterns, migration timing, and growth rates by comparing size/length between when the fish was initially tagged and when it was collected. These tags are usually inserted beneath the skin on the abdomen of juveniles. Pit tags use passive technology, utilizing scanning arrays that are placed in their migration corridor within dam fish ladders and on the bottoms of streams. When a fish with a pit tag swims across the array, the information is automatically uploaded to a global database. You can literally track a fish migrating downstream and returning through the database each time the tag is scanned, assuming the fish survives the perilous journey. Coded wire tags require removal of the tag to read which is lethal to the fish and does not provide information about migration patterns, rather just hatchery origin.

A table with multiple salmon ranging from 12 inches to 20 inches known as jumbo salmon

Jumbo Chinook salmon are salmon that do not follow the normal northward migration and rather reside off the coastal waters of their native streams. (photo by Wesley Noone)

Volunteers during the Fish Cutting party had the tasks of removing fish snouts for CWT and pit tags (if present) as well as any combination of the following: removal of the stomach, otolith (ear bone), intestines, and fin. Each specimen serves a purpose in the ongoing ecological monitoring of salmonids in the Pacific Northwest. Stomachs provide valuable information regarding what salmonids are eating out at sea and where certain foods are available. Plastics have also been observed in stomach contents which is a concern especially moving into the future. Otoliths are the tree rings of fish and provide information regarding how rapidly a fish is growing. Otoliths can also have a distinctive mark that is formed during the early stages of life during hatchery rearing by controlling water temperature fluctuations. These distinctive marks can be an alternative to CWTs and provide information about hatchery origin. Intestines can be used to further analyze diet intake although determining the prey source at this stage of digestion is far more difficult. A portion of a fin is also removed primarily for genetic sampling. Other data that is collected includes any observations of parasites and visceral fat which develops on the outside of the stomachs in hatchery origin fish due to the high protein content of their diet within the hatchery.

Sea grant intern Kong Vang dissecting a small juvenile salmon

Kong Vang dissects a juvenile salmon in search of a stomach (photo by Wesley Noone)

Performing this kind of sampling on an annual basis allows ecologists to monitor the health of different populations as well as the species as a whole. This was my first experience dissecting fish for biological sampling although I have gutted many fish in my free time to take home and eat. I would recommend the next Fish Cutting party to anyone interested in helping out with the monitoring effort but I do have some reservations for those not experienced with handling fish. My first reservation is to hold off on eating lunch until you get past the nausea that is induced by the smell of hundreds of fish being processed and digging through goopy brains to find otoliths. I would also recommend that you prepare yourself for having fish tissue flung at your face as well as handling a dead animal with feces extruding from its body. Some of these fish are hosts for parasites so if that freaks you out maybe fish cutting parties are not for you.
Overall I had a great three days in Newport meeting people from the NOAA Science Center, hanging out with fellow scholars, immersing myself with fish guts, and learning new skills. Thanks to the fellow Sea Grant Scholars who showed up to help and those scholars that helped make our experience at Hatfield enjoyable.

three volunteers working on dissecting fish

A happy crew of fish cutters work on their specimens. Top left: Will Fennie (OSU Graduate student) Front left: Kong Vang (NOAA Fisheries Summer Scholar) Right: Abby Ernest-Beck (EPA Summer Scholar) (photo by Wesley Noone)

Developing Models and a Connection with the Coast

After timeless weeks of video review, the time has come: data analysis. I am comparing species richness of rockfish, lingcod, and cabezon between daytime and nighttime lander footage at two sites on the Oregon coast, Siletz Reef and Seal Rock. Preliminary statistical analyses thus far indicates that species richness is higher during the day, which has important implications on the overall project. Chartering vessels for lander surveys would be more economical conducted as a 24-hour operation. However, because we are seeing species richness decrease at night, this difference could seriously affect the development of a fisheries-independent index. While chartering vessels in the daytime hours only may be more expensive for the agency, it will yield a more accurate index. The empirical data I’m compiling will be an important asset in decision-making as ODFW further develops their landers.

I have been using the terms “day “ and “night” loosely, so it is important that I define the time variable in my study. In fact, I started my analysis with time being separated into two elements, hours before sunset, day, and hours after sunset, night. After running a couple tests, I actually found that defining time continuously as hours since sunset provides a better model for the dataset. Developing this model also shows that our count data varies significantly ±2 hours of sunset. I will be conducting more analyses, running more models, and finding the best ways to present my findings in the coming weeks in preparation for the Sea Grant Summer Scholars Final Symposium.

Exploring the cliffs along the Oregon Coast Highway (photo by Illianna Termuehlen)

Although I have been spending a great deal of time learning the coding/programming language R for statistical computing and graphics, life here for me in Oregon is not restricted to videos, data, and coding. I’ve had many opportunities to explore the beauty of the Oregon coast, venturing up the famous Oregon Coast Highway, viewing wildlife from breathtaking cliffs, and camping in state parks. I’ve also had the chance to meet and spend time with a wonderful community of people here in Newport, some scientists, but other locals who are fishers, surfers, students, and artists. The Oregon coast is one of a kind, and I can’t wait to see what the rest of my time here has in store.

A group of Black Oystercatchers in Depoe Bay (photo by Dani Hanelin)

Tracing water quality from the rivers to the bay

I never thought I’d spend so much time in a river as part of a marine science research project, but here I am and I’m having a blast!

The Newport EPA has been going on research cruises to monitor water quality in the streams and the bay of Tillamook 1-2 times per month for a year now. Two weeks ago, I got to participate in the last cruise of the study. We divided into two teams, the “bay team” and the “tributary team.” Each team took measurements of dissolved oxygen, temperature, depth, salinity, and chlorophyll on-site using a multi-parameter data sonde. We also took water samples to analyze in the lab for carbonate chemistry, nutrients, dissolved organic carbon, and dissolved inorganic carbon; each measurement requires a different type of container for the sample. To make all of this easier, the EPA has converted a trailer into a mini-lab for field sampling. We have cabinets, countertops and lots of equipment all organized and easy to access!

By monitoring many different water quality parameters at locations throughout the rivers and the bay, we’re hoping to get a holistic view of the water chemistry in this system and to identify the drivers of any changes observed in the health of the system.

The trailer rigged for water sampling on the go.

Filling a cooler with a variety of water samples. Not pictured are the DOC samples, which are placed on dry ice so that they freeze immediately.

Another part of the picture is looking at how in-stream processing changes the water chemistry, specifically the amounts of carbon and oxygen. If we can get an idea of this, then we can know which changes in water quality are due to in-stream processing versus inputs such as agricultural runoff as the river runs from the forests to the bay.

Most in-stream processing is driven by periphyton, the algae growing on the rocks at the bottom of the river. To measure these changes, we removed all the rocks from a small (about 1 square foot) area in the river and placed them in a sealed container. We measured the initial dissolved oxygen in the water, let it sit in the river for four hours, and then measured the oxygen again.

Setting up the containers to measure in-stream processing. There were 4 containers with rocks and 2 controls with only streamwater at each of the two locations.

Jody Stecher, left, and me, right, measuring the oxygen in the container after removing it from the river.

We also wanted to see how one parcel of water changes as it moves downstream. At our upstream location, we released a bag of oranges into the water. Since they float in the water, they move at about the same rate as the water, so we were hoping to take measurements when they reached the downstream location. However, after about 4 hours of waiting, we decided to let this part of the experiment go. Lesson learned: there are a lot of orange leaves in the river that look like oranges when that’s what you’re hoping to see!

Waiting for the oranges to come.

After taking so many measurements and samples in a relatively short period of time, we have quite a bit of lab work and analysis coming up! Some samples will be sent to other facilities for analysis, and some will be analyzed here. I’m excited to start making sense of these data and bring together the many parts of this project to understand the system as a whole.

 

4 Million Years of Fish

This lamprey is waiting to be tagged

Often inaccurately referred to as “lamprey eels,” this slippery creature is actually a jawless fish that dates back millions of years. Richard Litts, monitoring coordinator for the Tenmile Lakes Basin Partnership (TLBP), teamed up with Statewide Lamprey Coordinator Ben Clemens and Doc Slyter, Elder of the confederated Tribes of Coos, Lower Umpqua, and Siuslaw Indians, to monitor lampreys in the area. Litts and Clemens were there as a continuation of a data collection project monitoring lamprey population trends, while Slyter provided some cultural context for the importance of lampreys. I spoke with him about the history of lampreys in the area and what they mean to the tribe, and he told me that he used to take his kids swimming in these rivers when there were “hundreds” of lampreys among the rocks. “Now,” he says, “you’re lucky to see one at all. If these ancient creatures are being this severely affected, then something’s wrong.”

Several volunteers, members of the watershed council, a veterinarian, and a couple of South Slough interns all gathered together yesterday to try to figure out what that “something” was. The process began by stationing volunteers with nets at all the possible escape points just downriver from the backpack shocker, used to stun fish into the nets. The process sounds simple enough, but lampreys are excellent escape artists and we did several rounds before we caught a fish.

When the man in the backpack yells, “Shocking!” you better have your hands out of the water and your nets in the rocks, because lampreys are swimming your way.

If and when we do catch something, it’s collected in a bucket like the one shown above. When we think we’ve hit the max for the day, the fish are put in a big tub of diluted MS222, the equivalent of anesthesia for fish. When they are motionless, they are quickly picked up, weighed, and measure by length and girth.

Putting the lamprey on the scale.

Lamprey getting its measurements taken. It needs a minimum 85mm girth to be radio tagged.

Then, a small portion of the caudal fin is taken for genotyping and they’re sent off to the “surgery station”

A volunteer handed me her special scissors and let me have a go at DNA collection!

One – by – one, these vials are filled with lamprey DNA for genotyping.

The “surgery station” was put together by members of this group. The tub is filled with diluted MS222 and PVC pipe supports the lamprey while it is being tagged. The tube has a cloth where the lamprey sit and a sponge at the bottom to keep its head from being damaged while allowing it to remain partially immersed in the anesthetic. The radio tag is activated, then surgically inserted and the lamprey is sutured up. Post-op, the lamprey are put in baskets situated in the river where they can safely wake up and eventually be released back into the current

All prepped and ready to go! The “surgeons” admitted that all the bananas in their house have been tightly sutured as their practice runs.

After all seven had been tagged, the group sat down for lunch together and discussed everything they learned about lamprey and lamprey monitoring that morning. One of the interns expressed how rewarding it is to be around so many people with a common goal, and I found a similar contentment in knowing that everyone here feels strongly enough about the protection of these ancient fish to spend their morning in the river.

Latino Conservation Week

June 14 through the 22 is Latino Conservation Week. In the spirit of this week I will be participating in a twitter version of ask us anything. Learn about all the amazing for Latinos around the country are doing in the fields of science, technology, engineering, and math (STEM) fields and in ocean conservation. Details: https://go.usa.gov/xUXgE 

To ask questions on twitter us the hashtag #LCWChat and #LCW2018

 

Here is a previous of some of the types of questions I have been answering:

 

What does the National Marine Sanctuary System mean to you?

Imagine if we had no Yellowstone or its iconic Old Faithful geyser and American bison, no Statue of Liberty or its history, no Grand Canyon that was carved into the red rock by the Colorado River. The national parks have helped ensure these special places will still be there for future generations to enjoy. That is what national marine sanctuaries do for special places that are underwater.

 

Sanctuaries help preserve and protect iconic coral reefs, protect nursery habitat essential for many fish and other marine life, preserve historic and culturally-important sites that are part of this nation’s history, and more. National marine sanctuaries help ensure that we will be able to enjoy these special places for generations to come and that we can continue to use these resources in a sustainable manner.

 

How do you help protect the ocean?

 

Here are a few of the way I try to help out the most:

I make sure to make sustainable seafood decisions. When buying any seafood, I make sure they were caught sustainably by either buying locally and asking the fishermen how they caught it (this of course requires a bit of research on what are sustainable fishing practices), or you can check through Monterey Bay Aquarium’s Seafood Watch list or look for certified sustainable seafood by the Marine Stewardship Council.

I also make sure to try and recycle everything, and use least amount of plastics possible. For example I never buy disposable single-use plastic water bottles and always carry my refillable, reusable stainless steel water bottle. In my family we also use small mason jars and re-fill them with juice instead of buying juice boxes that also create a lot of waste, and have a few stainless steel straws at home which we use instead of plastic ones. We always use paper bags or reusable bags when going to the grocery store. It has been well documented that many marine life die because of ingesting plastic materials, such as plastic straws or plastic bags.

Beach clean-ups and dive clean-ups are also a great way I like to help out ocean. Every piece of plastic or other marine debris removed from our beaches and ocean make a huge difference. We are now learning about the effects of microplastics on our ocean, and just picking up one single-use plastic water bottle (which eventually breaks into thousands of microplastic pieces) can make a huge difference! Anyone can help pick up a few pieces of trash anytime they visit the beach.

 

How does your heritage inform your experience in the outdoors?

 

I grew up in Ecuador surrounded by amazing marine and aquatic ecosystems. Since I was quite young, I was drawn to the Galapagos Islands and the Amazon region. Being part of this vast and unique biodiversity gave me an unbounded curiosity and enthusiasm for nature, for animals, and for our water resources. I saw their inherent beauty, and early on recognized what an important resource our waterways were to all living things and how much we owed them in return.

 

At a young age, I also realized that there were issues troubling our ocean, and it was then that I made it my goal to dedicate my life to finding ways to protect them. When I was little, my mom would take me to the beach in Ecuador, and I remember always going to the fishermen’s boats as they would come in early in the morning after spending all night fishing and looking at all the fish they caught and being fascinated by all the unique life that lived just beneath the surface.

 

My whole life since I was little I always thought of myself as a mermaid, mean to live life in the ocean, beneath the waves. The first time I dived into the deep blue I could not see the bottom. I was in a very special marine protected area off the coast of Ecuador called Machalilla, Isla de la Plata. My heart started racing with a mixture of excitement, curiosity, and a slight fear of the unknown. As I slowly started to descend I began to see the wondrous life that surrounded me; I could hear the fish pecking at algae on the reef, I saw a wall of fish dance and change forms as other fish swam around them. A baby sea lion playfully came close to me, blew bubbles in my face, and ran off to bring back its toy piece of algae. I felt like my heart skipped a beat, that moment I knew that is where I was meant to be, I have to come back as often as possible to visit the most beautiful places on Earth.

Although I began scuba diving later in life, I was able then to observe our impact on coral reefs and other marine habitats, and how we have decimated so much of our marine life. As I have grown, I have learned that marine ecosystems and the fisheries they support are some of our most priceless legacies, but if not handled properly they may soon be irreparably damaged. I cannot remember ever having a different life goal than to dedicate myself to preserving these special places.

 

As an optimist, I believe that change is possible and this is my motivation. It is a common misconception that conservationists, scientists, and fishermen must forever be embattled over “to fish or not to fish.” Rather I believe that we have a common goal: to ensure best practices so that this source of livelihood and cultural heritage does not decline over time, and that our descendants may enjoy and benefit from it too. It is possible to have both a healthy ecosystem and a prosperous economy.

 

What is your favorite way to enjoy the ocean and Great Lakes?

 

When I was little I loved to go tide-pooling and see all the cool little critters that make the rocky shoreline their home. I also love bodyboarding and hope to learn how to surf. It wasn’t until recently that I was able to experience the joy of diving. Diving has given me the opportunity to become a mermaid and to interact with the most amazing marine life. I have had the opportunity to go diving with sea lions and sharks in the Galapagos, dolphins and manta rays in Hawai‘i, and I hope to be able to go diving in kelp forests off the Oregon and Washington coastlines and see the rockfish that I am studying first-hand in their natural environment.

 

Endangered Species Act

My work this summer focuses on the Endangered Species Act (ESA). The ESA is a law that was implemented in 1973 which recognizes “species of fish, wildlife, and plants are as esthetic, ecological, educational, historical, recreational, and scientific value to the Nation and its people.” Under this law it is prohibited to take an endangered or threatened species also known as listed species. The purpose of ESA is to protect and conserve listed species and their ecosystem, so that the species can recover and self-sustain itself without further protection by federal agencies in the future.

ESA is the backbone of NOAA Fisheries and the entirety of work they do. This is because NOAA Fisheries allows authorization of take whether it be direct or incidental of listed species under their jurisdiction. This allows states, privates, federals, and tribes to proceed with their programs knowing they will not violate the ESA only if the program does not jeopardize or imposes any adverse modification on the critical habitat.

Learning and understanding the ESA was a big challenge. The next step of my project is to determine and distinguish the different pathways of ESA. Whether the programs or projects proposed by state, federal, or tribe falls under one of the 4(d) limits, section 7 or section 10, all of which allows some form of take or incidental take. If you aren’t lost already and have no clue what I’m talking about. It is totally fine, because my goal by the end of the summer is to make the processes digestible for the applicants.

The work I do does not involve much field, however I did get the opportunity to visit some habitat sites a co-worker of mine has worked on involving section 7 consultation. In addition, Wes the other OSG summer scholar and I had the opportunity to attend a meeting up in Washington. On our way back home, we took a detour to a NOAA retiree’s house, where we harvested clams and oysters for the first time. Taking about clams, I should cook some now. Until next blog, I’ll let you know about the boat trip and the salmon hatchery tour. 

Mesocosms and Mud shrimp

These past three weeks have been filled with getting to know my new coworkers, fieldwork, and our first run with the mesocosms mentioned in my first blog post.

Kelly Muething (left) and Ylva Durland (right) enjoying the joy ride while pulling into port at Nahcotta, WA

I began working with Ylva Durland and Kelly Muething, two of Dr. Brett Dumbauld’s technicians. Kelly just finished her masters degree at OSU and had Brett as an adviser so has worked on many projects with him. She is also continuing her work comparing the growth of two oyster types in and out of eelgrass beds. Ylva Durland had been working with ODFW’s SEA-COR program before beginning with Brett and is bringing knowledge on both eelgrass and shellfish. Ylva earned her masters in her home country, Sweden, studying predation patterns of green crab on native oysters. I feel lucky to be working with such talented women and Brett, and appreciate their support and guidance.

We spent a hectic week finishing up preparations to have the mesocosms ready to deploy during the neap tides at the beginning of July. Being ready required collecting Pacific staghorn sculpin and housing them long enough to starve them for 24 hours, collecting over 130 second instar Dungeness crab and marking them with nail polish so we knew which crabs we placed at the end of the experiment, and acquiring oysters to place as our oyster habitat. We also had to find an appropriate edge of an eelgrass bed to work on. Most importantly, we had to determine how much time we would have during the tidal exchange to work within our two-foot tall mesocosms.

Dr. Brett Dumbauld USDA-ARS, searching for megalope in Yaquina Bay, OR.

Tagging 130 juvenile Dungeness crabs with red and orange nail polish.

On July 4th, we set out the mesocosms to acclimate to the environment for the following day’s experiment. The next day, we placed the crabs in all mesocosms and gave them one hour to acclimate before introducing the predator into the three treatments. After another hour, we placed dividers along the edge of the habitat and scooped out the sculpin and as many crabs as we could. We recorded the number and color of crabs on each side of the mesocosms to compare against what was originally deployed.

Ylva Durland showing off the installation of the mesocosms in Yaquina Bay, OR.

An example of a mesocosm in action. One side contains eelgrass, the other oysters placed to mimic on-ground aquaculture. There were two with this configuration to have a treatment (predator) and control. We also had a treatment and control for mesocosms with oyster aquaculture on one side and bare ground on the other, as well as eelgrass on one side and bare ground on the other. 

Ylva Durland placing the two sculpins into a treatment tank with Kelly Muething on standby.

Our preliminary results show a trend of higher crab presence within eelgrass and less movement of crabs in the treatment mesocosms. However, we only retrieved 76% of the crabs deployed and are unsure if they were eaten or simply weren’t retrieved. We plan on rerunning the project in early August and are still fine-tuning the details beforehand.

I’m happy to say that I’m writing this blog while sitting in my hotel room, looking out on the Pacific Ocean. We are currently on a field-trip to Willapa Bay and staying in Long Beach, WA. We’ve been out in the field collecting data on burrowing shrimp size and frequency, checking on Kelly’s oyster growth study, and sampling native eelgrass to measure biomass later. Between the boat rides, working outside with great people, and stopping at the Cranberry Museum, it’s hard to choose a favorite part of the trip!

Brett Dumbauld and Kelly Muething heading back to the boat over the tide flats in Willapa Bay, WA.

Me and the trusty toothbrush I used to remove periphyton from the oyster-growing tiles for Kelly’s project in Willapa Bay, WA.

The boat waiting for us while we collect and monitor burrowing shrimp in an oyster aquaculture site in Willapa Bay, WA.

Brett Dumbauld measuring ghost shrimp carapaces collected from one of the monitoring sites in Willapa Bay, WA.

Kelly Muething (the frog), Ylva Durland (left), and I (right) taking advantage of the photo-op at the Cranberry Museum in Long Beach, WA.

Let’s Promote the South Coast!

Sophia and me posing while hiking in Shore Acres.

I’m lucky to be able to work with Wild Rivers Coast Alliance, an organization that funds community projects on the south coast of Oregon. It implements the triple bottom line concept, which consists of community, conservation, and economy, to help boost sustainable tourism and promote economic development in the region. This past week was a little different than my usual job – I, alongside Keana (OSU Marine Studies Initiative) and Sophia (Sea Grant Scholar), got to work on a grant-funded project to create a library of photos to be used in marketing the Oregon coast by the Regional Tourism Network.

Two photographers from Portland, Justin and Erik, drove down here to shoot the photos while Keana, Sophia, and I all tried “modeling” for them. We had a busy few days and got to shoot all over Coos Bay, Charleston, and North Bend. We modeled a night out at Seven Devils Brewing Co., awkwardly tried to pose while tasting tacos at the farmers market, pretended to shop in downtown Coos Bay, and ripped into a delicious plate of fish and chips at The Boat Restaurant. A majority of the photoshoot was outdoors. We went on a few short hikes, kayaked and paddle boarded in Sunset Bay, took a buggy in the sand dunes, went crabbing, and explored Golden and Silver Falls. We had a lot of fun and a lot of laughs (especially laughing at each other’s awkward poses, as you can see in these photos). I don’t have any photography experience, much less modeling experience, so it was super cool to see what goes into taking a stunning photo. Justin and Erik had a lot of patience with us newbie models, but I know they took some great photos and we had such a fun time doing it!  

I feel very lucky to have been a part of this experience. I worked with an incredible team of very talented photographers who captured the beauty of the Coos Bay area. This project was a huge collaborative effort by people along the coast to help promote tourism in this beautiful area; it felt great to be a part of that. I don’t know how or where these photos will be used, maybe on websites, brochures, or magazines, but I’m excited to see!

Sophia pretending to look for gray whales.