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When roles are reversed…

Yesterday started out as a great day at only 7am. The weather was looking great for the day, we had Selkie back and all of our gear was packed up and ready to go by 8:30. Not long after we launched, the plane called and we were on a mother/calf pair by 10am! Now that is what a day should start like!

We started working our pair, taking photos and video, and soon another pair popped up to join the fun. After the initial confusion of who was who and what was what, we decided to follow #3294 and her calf. We were ready to start getting behavioral data, photographs, and video all by 10am. Our day was getting better and better, but it was soon about to get even better!

The best way to get the best behavioral data is simply to shut down the engine and drift. We hope that doing so will allow the animals to relax a bit and maybe forget we are there, even for a little while. So that’s what we did. With the whales still a couple hundred meters off, we turned off our engine and settled in to watch. Then we noticed the calf starting to swim our way…and he kept on swimming. Pretty soon we knew we were going to have what we call a “curious approach”, which is when a whale (usually a calf) comes close to the boat as if curious about what it is.

Well this calf was indeed very curious. He swam close to the starboard side, popped up his little head (like Leanna, I use the term little loosely), and took a look. He then proceeded to go around to take a look at our port side. Back and forth he went for a minute or so, doing some rolls on his side to take a better look at us. He was probably wondering what all these little orange things were doing on this big orange thing! Well conveniently for us, while he got a better look we also got to take a much better look at him. We even got to confirm that he was indeed a he, which is a pretty hard task for any right whale let alone a calf! We followed them for another 4 hours until it was time for us to head home with a lot of data and quite the story. Now THAT’s a good day!

sunset over water with flock of birds near surface
Heading home at sunset. Photo: Dana Cusano

It’s a wonderful day for pie!

…and not much else. So we have been grounded for a few days due to some very strong winds, but it wasn’t a total loss. I tried my hand at making Claudia’s key lime pie and it was a success! I wish Leanna and Jess were still here to share in my glory (plus I know they would’ve helped and maybe it wouldn’t have taken an entire afternoon…)!

But back to the whales. Wednesday and Thursday we borrowed the R/V Starbuck and continued our research. Being a smaller boat, we weren’t able to take all of our gear out, but we got most of it. We even attempted to tag a mom, but she wasn’t too keen on the idea so of course we didn’t push it. We were able to get some behavioral data on both days and some recordings on Thursday.

I also got to see my first biopsy, which I am very excited about. Peter Duley, down here for a couple of weeks to help out, was handling the crossbow and managed to dart a calf that multiple teams have been trying to dart this season. Despite the decent swell and a sea state 3, Pete pulled it off! When I grabbed the dart out of the water and took a look at the tip, there it was – a small chunk of skin and blubber. Neat! I got to help (watch and hold tweezers) as Pete and Grace cut it up and packed it away for future analysis.

Well the Selkie is back in the driveway and the weather is clearing  up, so tomorrow we plan to continue our adventure. Maybe we will get lucky and tag a whale! Oh, and because I am so proud of my pie, here is a picture of it. Don’t be jealous…OK, be jealous.

key lime pie
My first key lime pie! Complete with homemade graham cracker crust and whipped cream and using real key limes squeezed by hand of course.

To pull a boat

You guessed it—Dead in the water, Part II wasn’t the end of our troubles with R/V Selkie’s engine.  As Leanna’s and my last day on the water, we got to experience one of the more interesting aspects of marine fieldwork: when things go wrong (and get resolved in unexpected ways).

After our engine trouble the previous day, Grace took Selkie to the boatyard early in the morning, where they identified (as predicted) a problem with one of the electrical components deep in the belly of the beast.  Apparently this was a quick fix, and we were up and running later in the afternoon.  We set out from Fernandina and were traveling to a previous sighting of a mother/calf pair when a right whale popped up in front of our boat!  It was a lone juvenile, and it wasn’t particularly cooperative.  The choppy seas weren’t helping, but to our surprise, just as we were about to leave, the whale surfaced and spent some time logging at the surface, allowing us to “sneak up” and get some really good shots.  Since it’s so young, it doesn’t have an official catalog number yet.  When our whale went down again, we had just heard of a more recent mom/calf sighting not too far from our current position!

Soon enough we were skimming across the waves towards this new sighting when everything came to a sudden stop.  Again.  After the previous day’s adventure, we were all less than thrilled at the prospect of needing a tow from 7 miles offshore.  Luckily, Dana had the magic touch and was able to convince the engine to turn over.  Not wanting to risk being stranded, we headed back to Fernandina, foregoing the mother and calf sighting.

We were able to arrive safely at the dock, but the low tide and shallow launching area had other plans for our trip from the dock to the trailer.  Our engine managed to suck up a fair bit of mud and silt before dying again.  Since the water was too shallow, we couldn’t even use the electric motor.  So we went about it the old-fashioned way.  Brute force.

Susan, Leanna, and I grabbed some lines from Selkie and pulled.  And pulled.  Dana was waist-deep next to the trailer, ready to guide Selkie into position. We were making some progress when the team from the R/V Maverick showed up willing to help.  I, for one, was relieved to have extra hands to help with pulling, allowing us to divide and conquer where and how we pulled. 

At one point it seemed like the Selkie was a bright orange, 4000-pound marionette being strung up and maneuvered in every which way possible.  Little by little, we heaved her off the mud and towards the ramp.

Eventually, we had her on our trailer.  And it wasn’t even dark.  Job well done, everybody!

And thus, refreshed by the North Atlantic, good whale sightings, and the general camaraderie of marine folk, it’s time to (reluctantly…) go back to snowy Syracuse.

two team members standing on boat

 Jessica McCordic

Masters Student, Parks Lab

Kinder Waters

It was the day after my Sea Legs adventure.  The weather was decent, so we headed back to the water to find more whales.  Armed with motion sickness meds and a sleeve of saltine crackers, I prepared myself physically and emotionally for another potential disaster.  The winds and the waves had died down quite a bit overnight, so I was already feeling more confident in my abilities to maintain composure aboard our research vessel.  As we headed offshore, we got a call about a reported right whale that was sighted by a local beach-goer.  We were skeptical (did this person actually see a right whale?), but we decided to check it out just in case.

After a few minutes of searching near the reported location, we spotted something shiny and black off the starboard bow.  Further investigation proved our efforts were not in vain…our beach-goer was right!  We had found the mommy whale and her calf.  Our photo-ID confirmed that this was #2912.  Hydrophones were deployed, video was recorded, and behavioral data was collected.  There were a few bumps along the procedural road, but it was a great day to figure out the things that worked well in the field and the things that may need to be tweaked in the protocol.  After a few hours with this pair, we deployed the CTD (a device that measures conductivity, temperature, and water depth) and packed up shop.  It was already time to head back for the night.

Overall, I was pleased with our day.  It wasn’t perfect, but we have to have days like that to figure out the best way to collect the data that we want.  And I doubled the number of whales on my “whales I’ve seen” list, and that, at least to me, is very very exciting.

And now it’s my last night in Fernandina Beach.  I feel like I just got here!  I’m sad to be leaving so soon, but I’m so glad I was able to help out for the past ten days.  Until next time, right whales!

Leanna Matthews
PhD Student, Parks Lab

Dead in the water (Part II)

We woke up to clear skies and a forecast for calm seas, so we gathered all the gear, snagged a quick bite for breakfast, and were off in a flash to fuel the boat for a day offshore. About 10 minutes after launching, we passed a small boat with two fishermen who waved us down.  As we puttered over, I hoped they didn’t think we were Coast Guard (our vessel’s previous home).  Turns out all they needed was a tow—apparently their water pump had broken, leaving them dead in the water with a nearly overheated engine.  We were happy to help, and with Grace at the helm we brought them safely back to the boat ramp, made sure they were all set at the dock, and headed out for a second time.

Those fishermen were not our only experience with a disabled boat today.  We got about twenty minutes from the ramp this time, when Selkie’s engine suddenly stopped, lurching the boat forward.  We tried everything, but our poor Yamaha just wouldn’t turn over.  As it turns out, having an electric motor also serves as a great backup if the engine unexpectedly shuts down.

Now, the Selkie is a pretty heavy boat, so even with the electric motor, we can only make a few knots with no current or wind.  But the ocean had other plans. Our little electric motor spun its propellers as hard as it could, but alas, it was no match for the outgoing tide.  At one point, we were definitely moving backwards.

We succumbed to the irony of the situation and hailed a sport fishing vessel.  They came right over and wasted no time in getting us set up to tow.  They seemed in good spirits, admitting that they “didn’t really have a plan” for their day—they were just out to enjoy the weather and hopefully catch something.  They had, however, planned for lunch, and they brought out their sub sandwiches and Doritos.  Boy, did those look good.  After traveling at what seemed like lightspeed compared to our electric motor, we arrived safely at the dock and sent our new friends on their way.

Our adventure wasn’t quite over yet, though.  As we approached the dock, there was another vessel in our path.  The looks on their faces were priceless as we shouted that we lost our engine and had limited steering.  They moved fairly quickly, and we managed to commandeer an innocent bystander to catch lines.  As it turns out, the bystander was retired Coast Guard, and another man who came over to help was retired Navy.  So including our five fishermen from two vessels this morning, we made all kinds of friends today.

Apart from breaking down and needing a tow, it really was a lovely afternoon—we had gorgeous weather, met some interesting folks, and even saw a couple of dolphins.  We managed to get the boat back onto the trailer, dropped it off at the house, and ended our “day in the field” with ice cream in downtown Fernandina.

 

Jessica McCordic

Masters Student, Parks Lab

P.S. —  Be sure to read Dead in the water for an earlier adventure in boat malfunctions.

Sea Legs

To “get one’s sea legs” – a maritime catchphrase I have recently added to my ever expanding list of boat-related vocabulary.  Commonly used in association with one’s inability to remain poised onboard a moving vessel, this phrase also refers to the issue of motion sickness.  As in, Leanna hadn’t found her sea legs before yesterday, so she threw up six times off the back of the boat.  Too much information?  Apologies to any readers with weak stomachs.

The morning of January 11th was very exciting.  It was my first real day on the water!  My first real chance to see some whales!  We topped off the boat’s tank at a local gas station, grabbed a quick slice of pizza for lunch, and we were on our way.  After loading all the gear onto the R/V Selkie, we launched the boat out of Fernandina Beach.  Soon after, we got a call from an aerial survey plane that there was a North Atlantic Right Whale mother and calf about 25 miles offshore.  The seas were rough.  Very lumpy.  We charged ahead.  I already knew pizza was a bad idea.

While en route to that pair, we came across a different female with her new calf and decided to stick around to collect some acoustic and behavioral data.  My stomach was unquestionably queasy and my dizziness was rising at a steady pace.  I asked right then about boat-vomit protocol.  “So if I need to throw up, I just do it off the side of the boat?”  There was a unanimous “yes” from my fellow researchers, followed by a couple versions of “make sure you’re downwind.”  I made sure I was downwind.

We hadn’t even started collecting data yet.

As I held on to the boat and waited for the sea sickness to pass, the three others (Grace, Dana, & Jess), fully equipped with their sea legs, manned the camera, identified the whale (#2753 if you feel like looking her up in the NARW catalog), and started setting up the hydrophones.  It was all a blur as I hurled that pre-boat pizza off the port side stern.  Next thing I knew, I was assigned to operate the digital recorder.  There was no way  that I was going to be able to look at and read that tiny little screen, so I just put on some headphones and crossed my fingers that everything was set properly.

We stayed with that mom/calf pair for about an hour, and then it was time to head back to shore.  Once the boat got moving, I started to feel less ill…the wind on my face, the knowing that solid land was in my near future.  As we arrived back at the dock and I stepped off the boat, I immediately felt better.  Granted, all the pizza and any trace of breakfast was long gone from my system.  But now I know – no pizza before boats.  And maybe next time I’ll take a little dramamine (or some non-drowsy equivalent).

Back on land, it finally hit me.  I saw a whale.  I actually saw two whales – one mom and one calf.  Wow.  Those guys are HUGE.  I saw my first whale and it was a North Atlantic Right Whale.  There’s only about 500 of them in the entire population, and I saw two of them.  It was an awesome experience.  Minus the vomit.

Leanna Matthews                                                                                                                                 PhD Student, Parks Lab

Right Whales, Wrong Weather

I will be the first to admit that I’ve never really been on a boat.  And that I’ve never been to the Atlantic Ocean.  And that I’ve never actually seen a whale in real life.  So when I had the opportunity to help out with the mom/calf study this season in the Southeast US, I was beyond thrilled!

I left a very snowy Syracuse a few days ago, and I had no idea what to expect with this type of fieldwork.  All my previous experience has been land based, and for the most part, irrespective of weather.  Well, turns out that you don’t actually get to see any whales (or even go out on the boat) when the weather isn’t that great.  We’ve been pretty unlucky here so far.  Wind, rain, fog…we just can’t catch a break.  We did go out on the boat this past Saturday though.  We tested some equipment and played with cameras and laser rangefinders.  No whales on Saturday, but we did spot some dolphins near the boat and some ponies on the beach.  Plus, I managed to squeeze in a lovely evening walk on the beach near our house.

beach line and pastel sunset

The past couple days have been spent getting the rest of our equipment prepped and, at least for me, learning how to use all of this equipment (CTD, digital recorders, video cameras, fancy camera with super huge lens – much more complicated than the little point-and-shoot Sony I got for Christmas four years ago).  I also got a crash course in North Atlantic Right Whale identification.  There’s an online catalog of all of the known individuals with photos and drawings of their distinctive markings, and there’s even a matching game if you want to try your hand at matching some whales.  It’s pretty fun once you get into it, but it can also be a terribly time consuming and exhausting process.  My first day of whale matching was full of ups and downs, but Jess (fellow grad student) and I ended up correctly matching about five or so whales….which counts as a success in my book!

It looks like the weather is going to clear up and be lovely this weekend, so hopefully we can get a few good days in on the boat!  I can’t wait to see a whale IN REAL LIFE!  And hopefully see a precious little baby whale.  Although “little” is a relative term…these babies are about 13-17 ft. long.

Leanna Matthews                                                                                                                            PhD Student, Parks Lab

Welcome to Fernandina Beach, Florida

Finally in the field again! It is the start of a new year and our team is back out in the field. This time we are in Fernandina Beach, Florida, on Amelia Island, 25 miles Northeast of Jacksonville, Florida. At the start of every field season there is always a start up process. For this trip, Dana Cusano and I flew in from Syracuse, NY with four enormous bags of gear, along with two carryon bags and two life saver colored hard sided pelican cases. Somehow we managed to wrangle all the luggage to the curb, and thanks to a rush on cars at Enterprise we were able to get a complimentary upgrade to a rental vehicle large enough to store all our bags. The Sugar Bowl game was in Jacksonville, Fl on January 2nd, a fact we were unaware of, which explained both the high cost of plane tickets and the low available stock on rental cars.

After a quick lunch, we drove to the house on South Fletcher Avenue where we met up with Jessica McCordic, a new Master’s student in the lab, and Lisa Conger, a scientist from NOAA. The next few days passed quickly in a blur of food shopping and equipment testing, along with all the normal snafus of missing small, but very important, items in the field kit.

After 2 days were were joined by Leanna Matthews, a new Ph.D. student in the lab. At the last survey there were already 13 mother calf pairs in the southeast, so we are hoping for a banner year! The team is assembled, the gear is ready, and now we are just waiting for the wind to drop enough for us to get out on the water. Fingers crossed.

orange sunset over buildings

-Dr. Susan Parks

Farewell Fundy!

It is officially the end of the season, so that means it is time to pack up and head out. We didn’t see many right whales this year, and only one mom/calf pair, but I would still call it a success. Some data is definitely better than no data, that’s for sure. Hopefully we will have a lot of calves born this winter so next year will be even better!

Stay tuned for our winter season in Florida, January-February 2013!

Eavesdropping on #3390

There’s something about being on an all-female research vessel, searching for a right whale mother and calf pair in the grey palette of the Bay of Fundy, that makes you think about our gender. More specifically – motherhood. How exactly does the relationship between a mother and her calf evolve? Can this rate be observed (and subsequently measured) from studying their behavior and vocalizations? As we round out our third year of a this five-year project, we are finally starting to accrue data to tackle these questions. Our research goal: study the interactions between right whale mother/calf pairs over the calf’s first year. We accomplish this by following them from their winter calving grounds off Florida and Georgia to their springtime feeding areas off Massachusetts, and finally to their summer mating grounds here in the Bay of Fundy (BOF). Our research tools: concurrent behavioral and acoustic sampling from a small boat platform. Our current BOF subjects: Catalog #3390 and her calf.

#3390 is the the only mother sighted thus far in BOF. Researchers aren’t sure of her birth year, but she was first observed in 2003 as a juvenile. She has suffered three fishing gear entanglements, leaving her with noticeable white scars on her peduncle (tail stock) and flukes. Her calf, an almost-weaned male, is her first known offspring. Thus far in our field efforts, I’ve had the opportunity to follow #3390 and her calf three times in the southeast U.S. calving grounds during the winter, and now this summer, three times in BOF.

whale and calf
Notice the increase in separation distance between #3390 and her calf from Southeast U.S. to BOF

Deploying hydrophones (microphones designed to record or listen to underwater sound), we are able to eavesdrop on the subsurface behavior of these elusive individuals. In the southeast, we recorded roughly 12 hours with #3390 and her calf. The number of potential calls we can attribute to this pair are in the single digits. So far here in the northeast, we’ve recorded just shy of 5 hours with #3390 and her calf. The number of potential calls we can attribute to this pair are well in the two hundreds!

It’s clear that the lapse in time has revealed a more vocal mother and calf pair. Time has also shown a larger calf, now bulked up with his mother’s fat reserves; greater separation distances between the mother and her calf, as the mother feeds on scattered zooplankton patches and the calf prepares to be weaned; and more interactions between both the mother and the calf with other right whale individuals in the population.

Combining concurrent acoustic and behavioral data, we can start to ask questions about what exactly these vocalizations are revealing. Are they reunion events, as the mother and calf find their way back to each other in the void of the ocean? Are they separation events, as the calf prepares to leave the mother and explore? “Be back by 10PM, Mom.” Or perhaps they are teaching events, as the mother tries to pass on the right whale repertoire so the calf can communicate with the population at large? As the BOF season wraps up, we’re looking forward to analyzing our data to shed some light on these questions. The more we understand a year in the life of right whale mother/calf pairs, the more we can do to ensure their protection. In the interim though, we’ll keep listening…

-Sarah Mussoline, Research assistant, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution