Ryan telling us about the oyster harvest…
The topic of Jon’s senior seminar sounds pretty grim: For several weeks now, our senior have learned about “our dying oceans”. A few weeks ago, on a beautiful, sunny March afternoon, Ryan Birch (’98) who is working as assistant conservation office in Brewster, MA paid us a visit and taught us all about oysters, how to grow them, how to harvest them, and – most importantly – how to shuck and eat them. :-)
… selling us on smoked Tabasco sauce (with David looking a bit skeptically) …
… and after showing us the tool of the trade …
… the first oyster is almost ready to be eaten.
Scott is an old pro with the oyster knife…
… and Lauren figures it out pretty quickly too.
Needless to say, there were no leftovers. Thank you Ryan!
One thing that kept us all busy during the first weeks of the semester was the search for a new conservation biologist. After reading many, many applications, coming up with short-lists, checking them once, checking them twice, meeting lots of candidates via Skype and in person, we made our decision and offered the position to Amber who gladly accepted.
Just in case you wondered what a “hellbender” looks like.
Amber is currently an assistant professor of biology at Bloomsburg State University in Pennsylvania, where she studies amphibians, especially hellbender salamanders. This Fall she will teach a non majors course on conservation biology and co-teach our methods with Joan Morrison.
As many of you may know, Joan Morrison is on phased retirement and will only teach a few more courses for us. So, if you ever wanted to take conservation biology with Joan: Don’t delay, sign up today (OK, once course registration opens).
To say that not much has happened since my last post is an understatement. To say that the transition from a sabbatical back to teaching was no big deal might be even a bigger one. I could get used to showing up in the lab each morning, doing a few measurements and thinking a few deep thoughts in my office… Needless to say, the last few weeks were a bit busy: we hired two new faculty members (more on that in an upcoming post), I am teaching three courses, and my research students keep me busy too.
Nevertheless, I was in for a (very nerdy) treat this Saturday. For years I have been walking past our seismograph, checked the screen and saw nothing, or noticed an earthquake that had happened some place on earth. “Nice“, I usually thought, “that was a big one, better check out where it happened…“. This Saturday, however, while packing the car for a quick sampling trip to Hammonasset State Park I saw the waves arrive while I stared at the screen. It was cool to think that for a few minutes the biggest vibrations in the building came from a place a few thousand miles away. I stared for a while, returned to packing the car (T.J. was supposed to show up in half an hour, so I didn’t want to be late), and snapped a picture of the screen a bit later. The earthquake, it turned out occurred at 11:26 UTC in the Caribbean, and you can read all about it here.
Looks dry to me … how tricky can it be to get a core from here?
The sampling trip was exciting as well. T.J. and I headed down to Long Island Sound to core a salt marsh in Hammonasset State park. We’ve been there before in the winter of 2014 when everything was frozen. This time it was different: the marsh was one soupy mess. On our first walk out to the coring site, T.J. went in to his knees. On our second trip out I went in to my chest. That’s when I decided that the camera would stay on dry land. After a few more trial and errors we had it pretty much figured out and stayed dry – until we cut corners – and in we went again. Nevertheless, we got eight meters of hideously smelly core with no bottom in sight. So, we might find ourselves some football players, hope for a colder winter next year, and return in January for a third try. In the meantime, T.J. will analyze what we have, and the cores will stink up the fridge, lending that particular aroma to McCookout stuff.
Psychedelic core … HAM 16A – drive 1 – the first of eight beautifully smelly salt marsh cores.