Waterlust’s ‘Wetlab’ Video Highlights UM’s Masters of Professional Science (MPS) Program

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Posted on February 4, 2013 by RSMAS

Been wondering what our Masters of Professional Science (MPS) students are up to? The University of Miami’s student-run Waterlust Project decided to show you! The team created a GoPro film that highlights a few of the amazing research and internship opportunities available.

The new ‘Wetlab’ video was GoPro’s ‘Video of the Week’ last week!

Launched in 2012, The Waterlust Project has reached more than half a million people with its 11 short films on a variety of ocean-related topics that focus on what water means to us. Their films offer a juxtaposition of academic achievement and artistic creativity that embodies the University as a whole.

Over at Waterlust we decided to produce a short film that captured some of the unique perspectives that graduate students get to experience here at RSMAS. We especially wanted to highlight the Master of Professional Science program in hopes of inspiring up-and-coming students to study the ocean. We searched around campus for things to film and were met with enthusiasm and smiles wherever we went. We lurked on lab groups, loaned cameras to field teams, brought cameras into classrooms, and went into the field ourselves. Passion, dedication, and a desire to find answers was everywhere we turned. We want to thank everybody who helped to make this film. Thank you for making RSMAS the coolest place to go to school.

- Patrick + The Waterlust Project Crew

Student Assists with Rescue of Stranded Pilot Whales

Posted on January 28, 2013 by RSMAS

On September 1, 2012, the Marine Mammal Conservancy (MMC) provided me with a rare and unforgettable opportunity to assist with the rescue of stranded short-finned pilot whales. Earlier that day, a pod of 22 pilot whales beached themselves at Avalon State Park in Ft. Pierce, Florida. MMC rushed to the scene to assist with the mass stranding after receiving a call from Harbor Branch Oceanographic Institute (HBOI).

I arrived on the beach later that afternoon and was directed to help transport the whales using a unique dolphin and whale stretcher. We moved the first of five juvenile pilot whales off the beach to a rescue truck destined for the nearby critical care facility at HBOI.

Following in my truck, I arrived at the facility to witness veterinarians and experienced staff members wading with the whales in a shallow pool at the center of the facility. At this stage, the animals had already been weighed, tagged, and provided antibiotics to fight infection. While absorbing the experience from the side of the pool, the director of the Marine Mammal Research and Conservation Program (MMRC) Steve McCulloch called me into the water. I was shocked at the offer and couldn’t refuse. He gave me a brief crash course in animal rehabilitation and subsequently placed one of the orphaned whales in my care once he was confident in my abilities. I slowly introduced the wild whale (technically adolphin considering its taxonomic classification in the Family Delphinidae) to its new enclosure, while making occasional eye contact and lightly gripping its pectoral fin, hoping to provide a sense of reassurance and commonality.

I spent hours assisting the orphaned whales in the pool, never losing sight of the momentous opportunity I was provided to play an active role in some of the most humble interactions between marine mammals and human beings. As day turned to night, everyone was called out of the water. It was time to see if the animals were stable enough to swim by themselves. To the relief of all, they managed to stay afloat, bringing their blowholes above the surface of the water to breathe periodically. Although extremely weak from their ordeal, they maintained a loose group and set a slow pace around the perimeter of the pool.

Elated by this small victory, I picked up a clipboard and spent the first night collecting critical data on respiration rates for the veterinarians and rehabilitation experts. The information was crucial to the rehabilitation effort, because it served as a baseline for evaluating the overall health of the animals in our care and also acted as an early warning sign should the animals’ condition start to deteriorate.

I spent the next two days assisting HBOI in various tasks, all focused on saving the lives of the whales in our care. These tasks included transporting supplies, sanitizing equipment, maintaining facilities, learning how to prepare diets, and training incoming volunteers to identify the animals and collect data. I also had the privilege to assist in tube feeding the whales. “Tubing” involved making special whale “milkshakes” and pouring the mixture down a tube into their stomachs. This procedure was necessary to ensure the hydration and proper nutrition of the whales, since they had likely never been asked to consume dead fish, much less accept hand feeding. Take it from my experience, there’s nothing natural about sticking your hand into a wild animal’s mouth, past rows of sharp teeth, but the process was critical to their survival.

Although there was no shortage of learning experiences during my stay at HBOI, learning to put my feelings on hold was perhaps the most helpful. A stranding is no time to allow emotions to get the best of your judgment and professionalism. Keeping this in mind, I was able to effectively absorb and retain information, complete all tasks with equal motivation, and take a measured approach to an emergency.

It was a sincere privilege to work with the remarkably selfless group of animal experts and volunteers of MMC, HBOI, and other rescue groups in what became an inspiring and life-changing event. Together, we saved the lives of the pilot whales in our care, and thereby created an everlasting bond between animals and the human beings that reached out to help them in a selfless act of dedication.

By: Ethan Kleinschmidt, MPS Graduate Student

Masters of Professional Science: Marine Mammal Science
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Sharks of the Devonian

Posted on September 14, 2012 by RSMAS

“The Golden Age of Fishes” is known for, among many things, its incredible ichthyologic diversity. As life on land began its own rapid radiation of terrestrial forms, including the earliest ferns and the insects that ate them, marine ecosystems flourished below the ocean’s surface. Between 416 and 359 million years ago, the Devonian Period saw the evolution and diversification of the first bony fishes, the armored placoderms, and the cartilaginous sharks—the forebears of the vertebrates that dominate aquatic environments today.

The Devonian Earth consisted of two supercontinents, Gondwana and Laurussia, and a deep, global Panthalassic Ocean that covered the rest of the planet. While the placoderms gave the world its first vertebrate superpredator (the 33-foot-long Dunkleosteus, seen above), the sharks gave them a run for their money with an incredible array of species.

One of the earliest and most abundant sharks was Cladoselache, a 6-foot-long predator known for its streamlined body and aquadynamic agility. It is one of the best-known Devonian sharks because of the large number of well-preserved specimens that currently exist in museum collections. During this period, it hunted bony fish and smaller sharks in the oceans that once covered North America. Cladoselache is unique because it lacked the scales and claspers possessed by other sharks. However, it must have been successful because the genus survived 100 million years.

Stethacanthus is another species from the Devonian, famous for its dorsal appendage. Found in North America, this two-foot-long fish resembled modern varieties except for one major anatomical difference. Unlike other sharks (let alone other organisms), male Stethacanthids possessed dorsal fins that resembled upside-down irons covered in teeth (see below). It is believed that these strange headpieces existed for mating displays and were products of sexual selection.

Another two-foot-long shark from places as far away as Kansas and Scotland also lived during the Devonian. This one, called Ctenacanthus (comb-spine shark), is known from fossilized fin spines uncovered in shallow-water marine deposits. It closely resembles modern sharks. Though the earliest traces of this group were dated to the Late Devonian, fossils have been found from the Mesozoic 150 million years later.
This indicates considerable evolutionary success, a trait possessed by all other shark species.

Other groups of sharks from the Late Devonian include the bizarre Iniopteryx, or flying shark; the extinct freshwater Xenacanthids; and the Holocephalids (or chimeras) that survive to this day.

“The Golden Age of Fishes” was short-lived and ended catastrophically with a mass extinction that wiped out more than half of the life on Earth, including the placoderms. Sharks survived and radiated across the planet. The period that followed, the Carboniferous, became “The Golden Age of Sharks”. During the Carboniferous, sharks occupied every niche. Freshwater, saltwater, and brackish varieties were common, and they placed themselves at the top of the food chain. To this day, they remain unchallenged and largely unchanged from the Devonian. Today, 700 species of sharks, rays, and chimeras survive—each one a living testimony of the lineage’s evolutionary prowess.

As human continue to prey on sharks for their fins and for bragging rights, the future of this great predatory fish is threatened. Now, with some areas having more than a 90% decline in some shark species populations, we have the power to save these magnificent creatures from extinction—a fate they have avoided for more than 400 million years.

Andrew Blitman
Masters of Professional Science: Marine Conservation
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Aquaculture Class Trip to Panama: Fishing for Broodstock Takes a Turn

Posted on July 24, 2012 by RSMAS

At the Achotines Laboratory in Panama, Yellowfin Tuna broodstock are replaced as older tuna parents become ill or pass away. On the morning of July 13th, I set off with two of my Aquaculture RSMAS colleagues (Jonathan Van Senten and Edissa Palacios) on a fishing trip for broodstock. It was a beautiful morning. The sea was calm, the clouds lay sleepily on the landscape, the sun still hidden behind the clouds was very slowly making its way into the sky above. We headed to the boat with our fishing guide from the Achotines Lab who went by the nickname “In.” The boat at first glance did not inspire much confidence. It was simply a hull with chipped faded colors of white, blue, and yellow. The main component being the livewell, situated towards the center, and with the dual function of serving as seats. The 60hp engine was propped in the back attached to a shaft to direct the boat.

We set off straight out of the bay about 20 minutes towards a large island of rocks where a lighthouse admirably stood. We had reached our fishing grounds. Rods in hand we cast our baitless hooks into the sea as our driver led the boat at a slow pace back and forth behind the island of rocks following diving seabirds and leaping fish. Within a few minutes I heard the ‘Zzziiip’ of a line behind me. Edissa, a fellow aquaculturist from Peru, had snagged something. “In” killed the motor as we began bringing up our lines while Edissa reeled and fought to get her catch in the boat. Lo and behold she had caught a feisty bonito. Bonito is a silvery fish, sort of resembling a small tuna, but is a much less tasty version of a tuna. We threw it in the cooler and continued on.

Two hours went by and it was still a string of bonitos that kept tugging on our lines. By this time the sun had finally made it’s appearance and had warmed the cool morning air. Bonito after bonito we began to tire. Then when we had almost given up hope there was another ‘Zzziiip’ from Edissa’s line and this time at the end of it was a flapping Yellowfin Tuna, broodstock quality. Yeah! This little guy went into the livewell and with our spirits revitalized we continued on. Shortly after we caught another one, but since it was badly hooked it was tossed in the cooler for tomorrow’s dinner, this was half a win.

Another hour and a half went by, the bonito had stopped biting, and with the sun glaring into our open hull we decided it was time to call it a day and head back. I was discouraged, even the bonito did not humor me with at least a few fights. I had caught a total of two bonitos and nothing that was worthy of a meal. I sat on the edge of the livewell moping over the lack of fish I had reeled in. My stomach protesting that it must be lunchtime. I was lost in thoughts when “In” shouted “ballena!” Far off to the left of us was a huge splash of water, it looked like a geyser erupted in the middle of the ocean, and right after another geyser. They were “ballena jorobadas,” humpback whales in english. I jumped to my feet, fumbling for my camera, with a burst of excitement replacing the hunger I had just felt. Never have I had the privilege of seeing any type of whale in the ocean. I had hoped to see dolphins at some point during the morning, but a whale, especially two humpback whales was more than a privilege, it was a blessing from the sea.

Left to right: Jonathan Van Senten, Melissa Pelaez, and Edissa Palacios

They were really far off from our boat. I figured it would not be practical to head so far in the opposite direction from our bay to get a closer look. I tried focusing as close as possible with my camera but all I could see were two grey humps far off in the distance, and then they were gone. This unexpected glimpse of humpback whales on the horizon had made my day, and as I took my seat back on the livewell “In” our boat captain looked to us and said, “I think they’re headed that way,” as he pointed somewhere in the distance, “Do you want to get closer?” I’m sure I smiled the dopiest of smiles, from ear to ear, as I nodded and sprang back up, camera in hand.

We all stood up on guard looking out into different areas of the sea. The pair of humpbacks would come up, twirl around a bit, and then again they were gone. It was a game of cat and mouse but we were getting closer. For about 35 minutes we were playing hide and seek with these stunning animals. They would come up, exhale huge spouts of water into the air and descend, other times they would come up and show off their flukes. ‘Snap’ ‘snap’ ‘snap,’ we took pictures of as many moments as we could. Then unexpectedly the most amazing event occurred. The whales came up again and this time they were surprisingly close, showing off even more of their splendid form to their admirers on the boat just a few meters away. I was standing, camera ready, when all of a sudden the water broke before us and catapulting into the air was one of the whales, his full body bare and glimmering against the light of day, his dorsal side facing us. I was able to make out all his features as time halted for that moment allowing us to take in every detail. The whale was majestically massive in size, shimmering dark grey, the ridges of bumps along the top of his head leading the way, his pectoral fins accented with white were sprucely set at his sides. The foaming water harmoniously enveloped his body as he made his elegant leap into the air. I believe that I must have inhaled so deeply that my breath was lost within me for quite some time before it found its way out. By the time I exhaled their humps were gleaming in the sun as they swam out into the open sea. Feeling a great amount of affirmation on life I said my goodbyes and gave a gracious thank you to the day. A pod of dolphins showed up leaping in and out of the air as to put a finishing touch on what had been one of the most remarkable experiences I have ever encountered.

A quick note on Ocean Conservation – The area of Panama I was in, where these whales were spotted, is almost pristine. There is a protected area nearby and little commercial traffic. Point being that the importance of keeping areas protected is evident in the fact that if there would be noise pollution and other unnecessary activity going on these whales would have never passed through this area. For us and for our future generations we individually need to take responsibility into our own hands so that these animals (as well as other animals) may continue to grace us with their presence for centuries to come.

Melissa Pelaez
Master of Professional Science: Aquaculture
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The Science of Weather led me to RSMAS

Posted on June 27, 2012 by RSMAS

When people ask about my career aspirations I often say that I want to be the link between climate science and society. What that means is, I’d like to use my science background to provide people with the most accurate scientific information available and educate them about the realities of climate change, so they can make informed decisions about how it will impact their lives.

But how did I get interested in climate change? It all started in high school physics class where I enjoyed learning about everyday physical interactions, such as dropping an apple on your foot or sliding a book across a table. Although it doesn’t seem like it, several forces interact to allow us to perform those actions. I was fascinated that I could observe objects in motion that we studied in labs also in my daily life without having to peer through a microscope.

It was this same curiosity about how objects move that made me question how weather forms and moves over an area. Growing up, weather had always fascinated me because it is part of our daily lives. I also thought there must be lots of jobs in this field because weather affects everyone in every part of the world, and we are forced to live with it. This is what led me to pursue a Bachelor of Science degree in meteorology from San Jose State University in California.

After finishing my bachelor’s degree I was ready for more. I applied to graduate programs in meteorology but was apprehensive because I wasn’t excited about narrowing my interests to one topic or committing my life to studying the details of that specific problem. I was more interested in building on my meteorological background and expanding my knowledge of the interdisciplinary aspects of climate change. After researching Professional Science Masters programs, I found RSMAS. When I read the description of the Weather, Climate, and Society track in the Meteorology & Physical Oceanography division, I felt like it was specifically written for me. The purpose matched my goals to build upon my scientific background and to learn the skills desirable for employers through an internship project.

Even though there are few Professional Science Masters students in Meteorology and Physical Oceanography, I am excited to be part of this new degree program. I look forward to completing my degree and cannot wait to see the program flourish over the years.

This blog post is part of a series of stories written by RSMAS graduate students enrolled in the Spring 2012 Scientific Communications (RSM 545) course.

Amanda Short
Master of Professional Science: Weather Climate and Society
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Don’t Panic: There is a Perfect Research Field Out There for Everyone

Posted on June 21, 2012 by RSMAS

Some people have known exactly what they wanted to do ever since they were a little kid. Some people can’t imagine doing anything other than what they are doing right now.

I am not one of those people.

Hi, my name is Kristen. I am a Master of Professional Science student at RSMAS, and I am an indecisive person.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been interested in science. However, within that broad spectrum, I’ve wanted to do pretty much everything at some point.

I always loved nature. Growing up, I was constantly climbing trees in my backyard. Captain Planet was my favorite TV show, and my favorite time of the year was the week I went to the beach. I liked playing with bugs, and every so often my friends and I would go to parks to pick up trash for fun.

It was from all these interests that I determined my ideal profession was to be an environmentalist- botanist-entomologist-marine biologist-policy maker. By the time I applied for graduate school, I had at least narrowed it down to just marine biology.

Last month, I had to sit down with my academic advisor to discuss my internship project. I was asked a question that has plagued me for many years: where do I want to go from here?

I choked up. I hadn’t decided what I wanted to do, let alone the field I wanted to work in, so I said the first thing that came to my mind. Uh, mangroves?

Dr. Evan D’Alessandro and I slowly work our way through the entangled branches during my first trek through the mangrove forests in Broad Key.

Somehow, in my moment of absolute uncertainty I managed to figure out exactly how to combine all my scientific and job related interests into one specific field.

It was perfect.

My main professional goal was to find a job where I would be in high demand and have the opportunity to travel. Mangroves are found all over the tropics, so mangrove researchers can work around the world. Also, very few people in the United States are involved in mangrove research. When I went to talk to my would-be research mentor to express my interest in studying mangroves, I was welcomed into the project like a baby gazelle that walked into a lion’s den.

From a research perspective, I always imagined myself working out in the woods conducting research. But I also wanted to do marine research, which is why I applied to RSMAS. Fortunately for me, mangrove trees evolved to live near the ocean. Now I can snorkel and climb trees out in the field to collect data.

I am not writing this to tell you how great mangrove research is. Mangrove research is definitely not for everyone. Instead, my message is three-fold. First, I want to let you know it is okay to be an indecisive person. Second, as impossible as it may seem, there is a way to combine all of your seemingly diverse interests in your professional career. And finally, don’t lose hope if you think there isn’t a field of research perfect for you. It’s out there waiting for you somewhere, so go discover it!