The pitch-black Sargasso Sea bottom is an animal circus all its own.
I decided not to watch the retrieval of the chemists’ samples, since it would be several hours before the crew hoisted the rosette out of the water. Instead, on the other side of the ship, away from the lights’ glare, I held on to the railing and savored the Sargasso Sea at night. In its wake, the ship left a trail of pale blue light called bioluminescence. A host of marine creatures—microscopic plankton, shrimps and prawns, comb jellies, even fish—emit the eerie glow, often when disturbed. Why these organisms bioluminesce is one of nature’s mysteries. Marine critters may do it to startle a potential predator they see, but that argument isn’t entirely convincing because some light-producers, comb jellies for example, are blind.
Smiling at my own “need to know,” I decided to simply enjoy the waves, crested with light blue shimmer as far out into the Sargasso as I could see.
When I finally climbed into bed, sleep came within minutes. I only opened my eyes as sunlight leaked in around the cabin’s shades. Dead to the world, Harvey lay on her back beneath a sheet. She was still half-dressed, a very un-Harvey-like way to be. Realizing she’d had a late night, I moved about the tiny cabin as quietly as I could, which is to say not really quietly at all.
I was sitting on my bed, tying my shoes, when she opened an eye and mumbled, “Morning.”
“How’d it go?” I asked.
Blinking, she pushed up to a seated position and frowned. “Why am I still in yesterday’s clothes?”
“It must’ve been real late when you fell into bed. Did the deployment go okay?”
Swinging her feet onto the deck, she said, “Yuck. Time for a shower. We got our samples. Tell you when I’m awake.”
As I closed the cabin door, Alise was shutting hers, so I waited until she caught up with me.
“Breakfast?” she asked.
“You bet.” Looking around, I added, “We can check in with each other too.”
She shrugged. “Nothing to report. You?”
“Ditto, so that’s good. Coffee first, then let’s go over our schedules.”
Happily sated with scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee, I was ready for the day. I drained my coffee mug, plunked it onto the table, and leaned toward Alise, seated across from me. “So what’s your schedule?”
“MOCNESS again after breakfast. You wouldn’t believe the mess that net system can get itself into. It’ll take a good hour for us to stretch it out on the deck and untangle it. Unless things have changed, that will be the first deployment this morning.”
“They’re lucky to have such a dedicated volunteer.”
Alise shrugged. “I’m learning a lot.”
I took a quick look around to make sure nobody was within earshot. “I’ll be on the deck above you. That way I can see what everyone is doing as the net is prepared and deployed.”
“Sounds good.”
“Isn’t there a free swim right before lunch?” I asked. “I think Nick wants to give everyone a little break. I’d love to jump into that warm water and snorkel around to collect the Sargassum Ted and I need. That’d be a lot better than leaning over the side with a dip net and scooping up whatever we can reach. Want to join me?”
Alise bit her lip. “Um, I’ll probably just stay on the ship.”
Her reluctance took me by surprise. Alise loved outdoor adventures, from rock climbing to backwoods bike racing. “Really? For a marine biologist, the Sargasso Sea is one of the most amazing places on Earth. There’s really nothing else like it.”
She looked down at her hands. “The thing is, ah, I’m not the best swimmer.”
Another surprise. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, well, I should’ve told you, but it’s not something I’m proud of. I grew up near San Francisco where there weren’t many pools and the seawater is always really cold. I did other outdoor sports—hiking, rock climbing, biking—but never got around to taking swimming lessons. As I got older, I didn’t want to learn how to swim with a bunch of little kids.”
17
I leaned closer to Alise. “You are the smartest, most talented, creative, hardworking grad student a scientist could hope to work with. We’ll talk about the swimming later and figure something out.”
Alise blushed for the first time in our two years working together. “Wow, thanks. I, um, don’t know what to say.”
I pushed my chair back. “And now for day two in the Sargasso.”
Alise went one way to find the MOCNESS crew, while I went the other to look for Ted. He was in the lab.
Ted smiled as I walked in. “Morning. How’d it go last night after I left?”
“Great. I waited until the chemists set out their Niskin bottles, watched bioluminescence out on the waves for a while, fell into bed, and slept like a baby.”
“So, um, no issues, I take it.”
“Yes, thank goodness. Nick has called for a free swim before lunch. We could snorkel around, collect some Sargassum samples, and sort them in the afternoon.”
“Snorkeling in seventy degree water, in a calm sea with two hundred feet of visibility. And they’ll call that work?”
I grinned. It was amazing that we made our living as marine scientists. Sure, sometimes the work was tedious, uncomfortable, even dangerous. But mostly I collaborated with terrific, smart colleagues and students like Ted, Harvey, and Alise, as we struggled to better understand the complex workings of Mother Nature. My parents often said that being an oceanographer was a privilege, and it was a lesson I never forgot.
Ted and I lined up the paraphernalia we would need to pick tiny camouflaged animals from clusters of seaweed—sorting trays, tweezers, pipettes, little sample bottles, big sample bottles, preservative, labels, marking pens, and two piles of sampling bags. Undecided on how to collect the Sargassum samples when we were in the water, we decided to compare two different types of bags—gallon-sized Ziplocs and mesh ones. While the Ziplocs would be awkward to carry as we swam along, they were less likely to harm delicate animals than mesh bags the same size.
When we finished, I said, “That’s it, then. Meet you outside in a half hour.”
I inherited my mother’s pale Irish skin and have to be especially cautious about sunburn, especially in the Sargasso Sea. Given the warm water, a swimmer could paddle around for an hour and not realize that her shoulders, back, and legs were the color of raw beef. Sunscreen wasn’t an option, because the chemicals could leach into the Sargasso’s pristine water.
To protect myself from the intense sun, I strode out onto the aft deck wearing a nylon “skin”—a thin full-body suit that completely blocks sunlight. Ted was already there, talking to three very excited, bikini-clad students.
Bikinis come in all styles, and these ran to the show-a-lot-of-breast-and-butt kind. Covered head to toe in my black skin, I felt like a dull old lady afraid of Mother Sunshine. Ted’s shit-eating grin didn’t help a bit either.
Ignoring the students, I focused on Ted’s apparel—a long-sleeved white T-shirt and swim shorts. “Not worried about burning your legs?”
He shrugged. “It’s not the best, I agree. But we won’t be in the water that long.” He turned to the students. “Have fun. See you later.”
If the ladies were going to respond, I didn’t give them a chance. Not the nicest way to behave, but there you have it. Steering Ted toward the fantail, I asked, “Where’d you put our collecting gear?”
He pointed to a red bucket. “Twenty plastic and nylon mesh bags. More than we need, I’d think. Let’s take a couple of each at a time, get the samples, and bring them back to the boat. Harvey’s not swimming, so we can hand the samples up to her. She’ll label and put the bags in carry-all baskets. Alise said she’d help too.”
Before Ted and I jumped in the water, we worked out a who-is-doing-what plan with Harvey and Alise. I would sample with the mesh bags, while Ted used the plastic ones. From the water, I would hand my bags up to Alise, and Ted would
give his to Harvey. We wanted to swim well away from the ship and other swimmers to find good samples, so we warned Alise and Harvey that each collection would take a while. Ted and I would stay together, within eyeshot of each other.
Finally, we were ready to go. To make sure my dive mask didn’t fog, I spit into it and rubbed the saliva around. Not a delicate procedure, to be sure, but it doesn’t cost a thing and works. Sitting on the fantail, I slipped my feet into my fins, pulled the mask down over my eyes, put the snorkel mouthpiece between my teeth, and held my mask in place. Then I jumped in, and was embraced by gloriously warm, seventy-plus degree ocean.
I can’t think of an experience more extraordinary—and liberating—than to leap, hundreds of miles from any land and thousands from the seabed, from the safety of a boat. As land creatures we literally lose our footing and come face to face with extraordinary creatures we barely understand, who live in a fluid, amorphous domain.
Looking down, the first thing that struck me was the mind-boggling clarity of the water. The upper, well-lit layer of the Sargasso Sea is at least three hundred feet. While it’s a thin slice in an ocean thousands of feet deep, to a human floating around on the surface, that three hundred looks like quite a lot.
The Sargasso is startling clear because there’s not much floating in it, large or small. An aquatic desert, the nutrient-poor Sargasso supports fish, phytoplankton, zooplankton, and the rest, but in very low densities. Waters off Maine, in contrast, are often thick with biology, sediment, and other “stuff,” which makes them turbid.
18
Ted glided over to me. Upright, we treaded water and pulled our mouthpieces out so we could talk. “This is so incredible,” he said. “I can’t believe it.”
“So clear and deep. It’s stunning.”
“Yeah,” he said, “the clarity will help us see any sharks a ways off.”
That remark got Ted a mouthful of squirted water in the face.
Together, we breast-stroked away from the ship and the other swimmers. Fifty yards or so out, we stopped near a Sargassum mat and looked around.
Treading water, I held up my hand and made a circle with my thumb and middle finger—how divers ask, “Is this okay?”
Ted pushed his mask up to his forehead. “Yeah, think so. I keep looking down and it really seems like the ocean goes on forever, doesn’t it?”
“And we can’t see most of what’s below us. Mind-boggling. Ready to go?”
Ted nodded, secured his mask, and slowly drifted toward a large windrow, a line of floating seaweed created by wind, tide, or currents. As we planned, he collected Sargassum from one end, while I worked at the other.
Staring at the floating mat through the water, a curious thought came to me. According to Sargasso Sea mythology, the seaweed mired whole ships and compelled the captured crews to drift around and around for eternity. That essentially described the fate of animals attached to the weed on the other side of my mask. These miniature creatures were safe, but only if they clung tightly to the mats. Out in the water, they would be eaten in no time.
The Sargasso mat zoo—shrimps, crabs, and the rest—were, on one hand, free in the big Sargasso, but also imprisoned like the legendary sailors traveling its sea.
To collect my sample, I dove beneath the mat to make sure no juvenile turtles or other large animals were hiding among the seaweed fronds. I would record their presence later, but certainly didn’t want to disturb any animal that might be endangered. When I pulled away and surfaced, sample number one attached to my waist, Ted was already floating off the other end of the windrow waiting for me. He pointed to the next mat, a few hundred feet ahead. I gave him the diver’s “okay” signal again and followed close behind. After we repeated the procedure a half dozen more times, I was more than ready to head back.
Upright in the water, I spit out my mouthpiece and squinted at the ship, which looked small and far off. “Wow. I didn’t realize we’d gone this far out.”
Looking toward the vessel, he said, “Me neither. Swimming with plastic bags full of water is a bear. Gotta take it slow.”
We made it back to Intrepid just fine and grabbed the dive ladder the crew had set up for the swimmers. I dropped my mesh bags, one at a time, into the bucket Alise held down for me and backed away as she lifted the samples up. Ted’s bags were heavier and more awkward, so Harvey laid down on her belly, reached over the side, and took them one by one.
Stilling holding on to the ladder, I called up to Harvey. “So that’s the first collection. How long did it take us?”
She looked at her wrist. “Um, a little less than an hour.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said. “This is harder than I thought. Not sure how much longer I want to be in the water.”
Once more we swam out to an isolated mat, collected our samples, and paddled back. Handing my nets to Alise, I called out, “I’ve had it. Could you take my fins? I’m coming up.”
Up on the fantail, I pulled the mask off, pushed the hair away from my forehead, and shook my arms. “Can’t believe how chilled I am.”
Harvey nodded. “Seventy degree water is still a lot colder than body temperature. Get yourself under a hot shower. Alise and I can take care of the samples.”
And that’s why I wasn’t there watching from above as Alise sat on the fantail deck, untangling the MOCNESS net.
I had showered, dressed, and was rubbing my hair with a towel, when Harvey pounded on the bathroom door. “Mara, you’ve got to get out on the fantail right away!”
Throwing the towel in the sink, I yanked the door open. “What’s happened?”
“It’s Alise! She’s in the water, drifting away from the ship. It looks, I don’t know, like she can’t swim.”
We ran down the passageway. Taking the ladder’s steps two by two, I yelled over my shoulder, “You’re right about Alise. She can’t!”
“Can’t what?”
“Swim!”
Out on deck, I wormed my way through the crush of students, scientists, and crew members until I reached the fantail’s edge. I turned to the grad student standing next to me. “Alise is my student. Where is she?”
The woman pointed a few hundred feet ahead. “See the orange life jacket? That’s her.”
“Thank goodness she’s wearing a PFD, but she’s already out so far.” I squinted at someone swimming toward Alise. “Who’s that?”
“Ted. Dr. McKnight.”
My mind racing, I considered stripping down to my underwear and jumping in, but thought better of it. Ted, who was quickly gaining on Alise, knew what he was doing. As part of our scuba training, we had both practiced rescuing swimmers in trouble. If I followed him I would just be in the way.
After what was probably a few minutes, but seemed much longer, Ted finally reached Alise. I called out, “She’s safe. He’s got her!”
19
It was late afternoon, and the height of the swells was noticeably increasing. Squinting, I tried to keep my focus on two heads bobbing up and down in the five-foot-plus waves.
Then, at last, Alise was floating on her back with Ted in front of her. He swam toward the ship with one arm because his other arm was draped over Alise’s chest, supporting her. It was very slow going in a choppy sea. Alise, thank goodness, didn’t panic and thrash around.
I imagined Ted telling Alise things like, “We’re getting closer. You’ll be all right. Good job.”
They had come about halfway when I could see that Ted was getting tired. Dragging a limp body through the water is surprisingly difficult, and the building waves, which kept smacking Ted in the face, made the task even harder.
Suddenly, Ted stopped paddling and let go of Alise. Even above the sound of water smacking the ship, I could hear his violent hacks. Ted, who must have swallowed gulps of seawater, was choking.
I threw off my clothes, dove in, free-styled away from the ship, and quickly reached them. Upright in the water, Ted croaked, “Get Alise!” between coughing jags.
I yelled, “Yes!” and breast-stroked toward her.
Nearly upright, Alise thrashed her arms and looked at me, wild-eyed. I wasn’t sure she even knew who I was.
Far enough away so Alise couldn’t grab me, but close enough so she could hear, I spoke in the calmest tone I could manage. “Alise, it’s Mara. Float on your back like you did with Ted. I’ll bring you back to the ship.”
When she hesitated, I wondered if she was beyond reason. Then, blinking, she recognized me. “Mara. You’re here.”
“I’m taking over for Ted. Float on your back again. Okay?”
With an “Okay,” she faced away from the ship and let me help her get into position so I could drape my arm over her chest.
“Here we go!” I called out as I floated flat on the surface, gently kicked, and pulled my free arm through the water.
The distance to the ship’s ladder wasn’t far, but our progress was agonizingly slow. Dragging a body though viscous water is exhausting in a flat, smooth pond. As we bobbed up and down in the building waves, getting Alise to safety was one of the most physically challenging things I had ever tried. Every time I glanced at the ship, it seemed no closer. But finally we were within earshot, and I could hear Harvey’s, “Mara, you’re nearly there!”
Ted, who had finally stopped hacking, breast-stroked alongside. While I was grateful he didn’t try to assist, his presence was undeniably reassuring.
When we reached the ladder, I was happy to let the ship’s medic take over. Saying that Alise might be hypothermic, the crewmember easily got her on deck, draped her with a blanket, made sure she could walk, and led her away to the infirmary.
Glass Eels, Shattered Sea Page 7
