The Coral Restoration Foundation

The Coral Restoration Foundation (CRF), a nonprofit organization based in the Florida Keys, was established with the goal of rejuvenating the Caribbean reefs. Two keystone species, Elkhorn (Acropora palmata) and staghorn coral (Acropora cervicornis), grow here in expansive, branching thickets, offering crucial habitat for a myriad of fish and invertebrates. Flourishing in shallow, warm waters, these corals are particularly vulnerable to the adverse impacts of climate change, making them the focal point of CRF’s restoration efforts.

Coral bleaching is an increasingly widespread phenomenon whereby corals lose their vibrant colors due to the expulsion of symbiotic algae residing within their tissues. These algae, known as zooxanthellae, provide corals with sugar through photosynthesis and contribute to their pigmentation. When subjected to thermal stress, corals respond by expelling the algae, a reaction similar to experiencing a fever. As a result, the corals appear pale or white, undermining their overall health. While bleaching does not inevitably result in immediate mortality, prolonged instances of elevated temperatures can impede algal recolonization, and ultimately lead to coral starvation and death. Globally, underwater heatwaves and bleaching events are escalating in frequency and intensity, presenting a grim long-term outlook for reefs unless there is a concerted effort to reduce carbon emissions.

During my time at CRF in Bonaire, I had the honor of working alongside Francesca Virdis, a scientist who relocated here to champion the health of the reefs. Our days were filled with meaningful tasks, from mapping reefs and recording coral growth to educating visitors about the changing climate. When establishing a new restoration site, our objective was to carefully choose genetically diverse colonies from various locations around the island that had successfully weathered previous bleaching events. Through this process of assisted evolution, our hope is the future offspring of these corals will inherit genetic traits that may confer a higher likelihood of survival in the face of warming waters.

Once selected, the coral fragments are then affixed to CRF’s floating nurseries, which serve as a temporary home for the corals to grow and develop. Free from predators and sedimentation, the corals thrive suspended in the shallow, sunlit waters. After several months of growth, they are transplanted back onto degraded areas of the reef, which was the most rewarding part of my experience. We used milk crates to carefully transport the delicate corals and secured them to the reef using zip ties or epoxy. This act requires precision, considering factors such as appropriate spacing and substrate conditions to optimize attachment and ensure future success. Across their restoration sites in the Caribbean, several hundred hectares of reef have been reclaimed, resulting in the resurgence of local fish populations. While the road ahead will be incredibly challenging for corals, I’m heartened by the work of CRF and remain hopeful for the future.

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Adventures in Newfoundland with National Geographic

The highlight of my time in Newfoundland was joining a National Geographic team documenting the migration of icebergs from Greenland into Canadian waters. As the climate crisis unfolds, and this pristine corner of the globe undergoes dramatic changes, the waters offshore have become a haven for drifting chunks of melting glaciers carried south by the Labrador current. Locally known as Iceberg Alley, the sight of the endless expanse of icebergs floating on the surface left me captivated. I was surprised by all the tiny air bubbles simmering to the surface, escaping from the melting ice. These minute pockets of air, trapped thousands of years ago, remain perfectly encapsulated samples of the ancient atmosphere. Analyzing these bubbles enables scientists to reconstruct past climates, identify trends, and enhance our understanding of how the composition of the atmosphere has changed over time.

As a potent greenhouse gas, carbon dioxide serves as our planetary thermostat, but the unchecked use of fossil fuels is generating vast quantities of this pollutant, jeopardizing Earth’s life support systems. While reading about these changes in a textbook or seeing them on the news is one thing, as I gazed across the horizon, my heart sank, and the magnitude of the crisis became unmistakably clear. Now, as this pristine ice dissolves into the ocean, it makes an incremental contribution to the rise of the seas. My thoughts immediately turned to the climate summit taking place this fall in Paris and how urgently we need to advocate for a global agreement on emissions. Documenting these changes, collecting data, and sharing them with the public is critical to building the support needed for change.

Diving World War II Shipwrecks

On a moonless night in 1942, four British carriers — the Saganaga, Lord Strathcona, Rose Castle, and PLM 27 — succumbed to a German U-boat attack, while transporting iron ore in support of the war effort. Today, these wrecks lie in close proximity on the ocean floor, spanning depths ranging from 70 to 160 feet. After completing my peak performance buoyancy training, I felt well-prepared for my first wreck dive!

Taking a giant stride off the stern of the dive boat, we began our descent to the bottom. Out of the blue appeared the ghostly ruins of the ship, with the anchor, catapulted midship during the attack, still lying upright on the deck. Swimming the length of the wreck, we admired the snow-white anemones and green urchins covering the hull. Our tanks were filled to 3000 PSI of nitrox, so following the rule of thirds, we turned back at 2000 PSI to be safe. During our decompression stop, I spotted a red lion’s mane jellyfish pulsating through the water column — one of the largest jellyfish species in the world.

After our surface interval, we embarked on a second dive closer to shore, descending to approximately 35 feet. At this depth, we encountered a gaping crevice in the bedrock, teeming with arctic marine life from red sculpins to lumpsucker fish. It was carved by retreating glaciers during the last ice age, and when sea levels rose, the ocean flooded in. Now adorned with colonies of mussels, we watched as sea stars, each the size of dinner plates, slowly crawled over the mussels in search of a meal. Upon surfacing, we returned to the boat, brimming with excitement and exchanging high fives after such an incredible dive.

Exploring Trinity and St.John’s

Over the past few days, I’ve had the chance to spend quality time with Jill Heinerth on our expedition to northern Newfoundland. Jill is a renowned diver and photographer, having achieved numerous milestones in the field, including being the first person to dive inside the Antarctic ice shelf and mapping countless underwater cave systems around the world. I’m grateful for the wisdom she has imparted and feel fortunate to call her a new friend. After engaging in hours of conversation and traversing a rugged landscape with granite peaks, pine forests, arctic grasslands, and cold-water streams, we finally arrived at our destination. Trinity, nestled along the Terra Nova coast, is surrounded by rolling lupine-covered hills, amid the constant, low-pitched rumble of crashing waves. We explored the coastal trails, capturing photos of nesting puffins and collecting urchin shells, before indulging in a Newfie delicacy — fish and chips with gravy — at one of Canada’s oldest restaurants.

Despite the pouring rain, I then joined her team of documentary filmmakers from the BBC on a dive. While descending, we came across a wolf eel, providing an ideal opportunity for me to test my underwater photography skills as the eel flashed a smile back at me, revealing its sharp, white teeth. Continuing our journey, we headed towards the remote Bacon Cove, known for its picturesque red fishing hut perched over the cliffs. Puffins and sea gulls circled overhead, following an enormous school of spawning capelin in the shallows. Swimming through the cloud of eggs, sperm, and fish, we soon realized we weren’t alone as a large Minke whale rocketed to the surface with her mouth agape. The panicked capelin darted away, and just as quickly as the whale appeared, she was gone.

After returning to St. John’s, James Humby and I climbed Signal Hill — an iconic location famous for receiving the first trans-Atlantic telecommunication message. Additionally, it holds historical significance as the initial landing site for many RMS Titanic survivors, given the ship’s sinking southeast of Newfoundland. The summit treated us to a spectacular view of the Cape Spear lighthouse and easternmost point in the Americas. Standing there, gazing across the mighty Atlantic, I was spellbound by the scenery.

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The National Aquarium

My next chapter of the internship brings me to the National Aquarium, hosted by Holly Bourbon, the aquarium’s senior director and dive safety officer. This week, I have the privilege of shadowing her and delving into the behind-the-scenes operations of running the institution. From caring for sick animals to conducting news interviews, Holly’s wide range of responsibilities, combined with her passion and expertise, never ceased to impress me. On my first day, she gave me a tour of the diverse exhibits from the Indo-Pacific Reef to the Tropical Rainforest, and explained how their mission is to increase the public’s understanding of the natural world while also advocating for sustainable change.

Jackie Cooper, the senior aquarist, assisted me in donning my scuba gear as we prepared to dive in the Blacktip Reef exhibit to feed and monitor the health of its inhabitants. Notable species on display include reticulated whiptail rays, humphead wrasse, zebra sharks, and the charismatic green sea turtle named Calypso – the aquarium’s cherished rescue turtle that lost her front flipper in a boat strike. I also helped target-feed the sharks by tossing squid, capelin, and mackerel toward a colored buoy in the water, where they have been trained to congregate for meals.

Later in the week, I joined Holly in the Atlantic Coral Reef (ACR) exhibit – a 335,000-gallon tank – to assist in transferring several hundred fish into the newly remodeled exhibit. A team of staff efficiently moved fish from quarantine bins into acclimation tubs, where they were gradually exposed to the exhibit’s salinity and temperature through a drip line. Following this, we conducted “freshwater dips” by swiftly immersing the fish in freshwater to eliminate any potential bacteria or parasites. After assessing oxygen and stress levels, each fish was gently placed into opaque jars, which were handed to me as I floated on the surface of the massive tank in my scuba gear. We then carefully descended before releasing the fish into their new home!

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The International Submarine Races

The 13th International Submarine Races were hosted at the Naval Surface Warfare Center in Maryland, drawing participants from across the globe to champion the field of marine engineering. This competition serves as a catalyst for the design, construction, and racing of human-powered submarines at the specialized marine testing facility. I had the privilege of serving on the dive team managing the safety and logistics of the event alongside the Navy divers.

Our first day was dedicated to the meticulous setup of all the dive and emergency equipment at the testing basin — an expansive underground pool spanning a quarter-mile in length. We were introduced to Charlotte George, the program director, and Jim Corey, the racing announcer, who were instrumental in coordinating with the Department of Defense to prepare for the week. Teams from the United Kingdom, Germany, Canada, Netherlands, Oman, New Zealand, and various parts of the U.S. were fervently fine-tuning their dive plans and unloading their submarines, shipped in from different corners of the world.

Each race involved a choreographed lowering of the fleet of submarines into the water. Given their human-powered design, most of the submarines were equipped with cycling pedals that rotated propellers, driving the vessels forward through the water column. Once inside, the pilots awaited the start of each race, signaled by a piercing underwater bell. The submarines would then take off — a test of both diver endurance and the hydrodynamics of each vessel. At the end of each race, the basin resounded with applause, a joyful celebration of the many months of dedication leading up to that moment.

Over the course of the week, my responsibilities included lifeguarding, inspecting dive and submarine equipment, and tracking their movements underwater. The event exuded a positive atmosphere of sportsmanship, providing a unique opportunity to witness human ingenuity and teamwork on a global scale. Meeting the racers, Navy divers, and spending time with the Malkoski family made this an unforgettable week. I can’t wait for the next races!

Sea Turtle Rehabilitation Center

The shores of Cape Cod, renowned for their natural beauty, are also notorious for the surge of stranded sea turtles they experience each autumn. During the summer months, sea turtles ride the Gulf Stream current north to New England, where they thrive in the food-rich waters of Stellwagen Bank. However, as autumn approaches with cooling waters and shorter days, it signals to the turtles that it’s time to migrate back to the equatorial latitudes. Due to Cape Cod’s unique hook-like topography, turtles swimming south along the east coast often become trapped in the bay, unable to escape before the onset of cold weather. As exothermic reptiles, turtles cannot generate their own heat, so they often experience cold stun, or worse, hypothermia. In this state, they become lethargic, struggle to swim, and become more susceptible to infection. The number of turtles being caught flat-flippered (get it?) each year, has risen dramatically as changing weather patterns complicate their ability to predict when to migrate. Efforts by organizations like the New England Aquarium (NEAQ) aim to mitigate the impact of these challenges by rescuing stranded turtles and giving them a second chance.

My involvement began under the guidance of Adam Kennedy, the chief veterinarian at NEAQ’s Marine Rehabilitation and Care Center in Quincy. The center offers essential quarantine and rehabilitation services amid a maze of humming tanks, operating rooms, and a devoted team of veterinarians, interns, and volunteers tirelessly working to nurse these animals back to health. With an impressive success rate of approximately 90 percent, the majority of turtles recover and are subsequently flown to Florida for release into the warmer waters. The most commonly stranded species include the endangered hawksbill sea turtle (Eretmochelys imbricata) and the critically endangered Kemp’s Ridley sea turtle (Lepidochelys kempii). Given that there are only an estimated 7,000 Kemp’s Ridley sea turtles left in the entire world, it’s no exaggeration to say that these rescue efforts are preventing the species from tipping into extinction. Each turtle, marked for identification, undergoes a meticulous rehabilitation process tailored to their unique needs. For instance, turtle 479, recovering from a boat strike, required surgery to address an infected lung and necrotic tissue. This year had the highest number of strandings ever recorded with nearly 800 individuals rescued by the team. Collaborating with like-minded volunteers and staff at the center was an incredibly fulfilling experience, and I hope to remain involved in these efforts for years to come.

 

Marine Mammal Center & Giant Ocean Tank

My next stop at the New England Aquarium took me to the Marine Mammal Center. The exhibit is home to northern fur seals (Callorhinus ursinus), harbor seals (Phoca vitulina), and California sea lions (Zalophus californianus). Each day, multiple training sessions are conducted to engage and stimulate the minds of these highly intelligent animals, especially since many of them were brought to the aquarium as rescues. I dedicated hours to practicing new commands with the harbor seals and was captivated by their attentiveness, observing how they carefully interpreted each gesture from the trainers to perform the desired commands. Whether it was speaking, kissing, or blowing bubbles, these seals demonstrated an impressive ability to respond to well over two hundred commands! While conversing with the trainers, we delved into fascinating topics ranging from animal intelligence and sentience to the extent to which humans often underestimate the cognitive abilities of other creatures. I also had the opportunity to interact with some of the northern fur seals, particularly Ursula, who is blind but incredibly sweet, and Commander, a 550 pound male who proved to be extremely friendly and well-behaved.

On my last day, I once again joined Dan Dolan for a dive in the aquarium’s signature Giant Ocean Tank — an exhibit so massive that the building was constructed around it. My parents, grandparents, and three little sisters all came into Boston to witness my dive and the feeding of the animals on display. Pressing my hand against theirs through the glass was so meaningful — especially for my grandparents who remember when the aquarium first opened in the 1960s. It was an incredibly fulfilling day that I will never forget, and I can’t thank Dan enough for being such a great dive buddy and mentor.

Penguin Exhibit

Today was spent working in the penguin exhibit! I had the opportunity to volunteer alongside Andrea Newman, a penguin biologist, who shared a wealth of information on penguin behavior and physiology. We then suited up to feed the three penguin species on exhibit: Rockhopper (Eudyptes chrysocome), Little Blue (Eudyptula minor), and African (Spheniscus demersus) penguins. All species of penguin inhabit the southern hemisphere, with most residing in Antarctica, but these specific species are found in Patagonia, Australia/New Zealand, and South Africa, respectively. Threats such as shifting ocean currents due to climate change and overfishing by humans impact all of them. Additionally, many populations are threatened by invasive species that hunt their eggs. The aquarium is actively collaborating with other zoos and aquariums to promote a healthy captive breeding program and is committed to ensuring the viability of wild populations through conservation initiatives around the world.

Wading into the freezing water and being surrounded by dozens of squawking penguins was exhilarating. Each bird has a name and unique wing bracelet displaying a specific color and pattern. The males have their bands on the left wing, and the females on the right wing (since according to the staff, girls are always right haha). Armed with a waterproof clipboard listing each bird’s name, I kept track of how many capelins each bird consumed and which ones needed specific medications or supplements. The penguins were extremely curious and playful, but I had received a specific warning about Namibia — a large female African penguin. Recognizing I was a newcomer, she hopped off her rock and splashed into the water to investigate me. As I stood in waist-high water, she circled around me a few times before asserting dominance with a painful bite to show who was in charge. Message received, Namibia! Nonetheless, I thoroughly enjoyed interacting with the penguins today and sincerely appreciate all the help from Andrea!

Cold Water Marine Gallery & Marine Medical Center

My next assignment was the Cold Water Marine gallery with aquarist Bill Murphy. I’ve known Bill since I was in middle school when I first started volunteering at the aquarium on the weekends, so I loved having the chance to be back in his gallery. In particular, I was thrilled to be spending time with the aquarium’s giant Pacific octopus (Enteroctopus dofleini). Sy Montgomery, a prolific writer on animal behavior, had also spent much of the past few years with Bill and the octopuses on display here while writing her book, The Soul of an Octopus, which if you haven’t read yet, is a must. I’ve always been fond of these curious and otherworldly creatures who seem to delight in spending time with humans. After lowering my arm into the water, her soft eyes gazed back at me, while her many tentacles reached up in an embrace. Playing with her toys, I marveled at her intellect and friendliness. After hours of interacting, I later joined Bill in feeding the numerous other species in his gallery. From lime and fuchsia-colored anemones to rare blue and calico lobsters, I was impressed by the vibrant spectrum of colors on display in his tanks. Bill approaches his job with a deep sense of responsibility for the well-being of each animal, making me feel fortunate to have the opportunity to learn from him.

Later in the week, I joined my friend and dive instructor, Sarah Taylor — who initially certified me to dive back in high school! Sarah is among the most intelligent people I’ve ever met, and I’ve always looked up to her, so it’s a privilege to work alongside her this week. My first task in the medical center was teaming up with marine veterinarians, Charlie Innis and Julie Cavin, to administer anesthesia to a cownose ray in need of examination. Stingrays have keratin barbs at the end of their tails, similar to our fingernails, so the aquarium staff clips them every few months to prevent accidental harm to other fish or divers. Once the procedure was completed, we gently lowered the ray back into the water, and she darted off.

Our next patient was a penguin experiencing difficulty swallowing and showing a recent lack of interest in her food, prompting the need for an examination of her digestive tract. After the bird was administered anesthesia, she calmed down, allowing for the insertion of a small camera into her esophagus. This camera transmitted a live video stream to the monitor in the exam room, revealing that she had ulcers in her stomach. The veterinarians prescribed medication and adjusted her diet to improve her condition. Remarkably, this penguin was over thirty years old — an impressive age for a bird that typically lives half as long in the wild!

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