Greenversations

By Jeanethe Falvey

This week, scientists from EPA, Maine Department of Environmental Protection, University of New England, and the Wells National Estuarine Research Reserve completed a water sampling effort along the southern coast of New England. Why?

Many asked when we were in Ipswich Bay off Essex, Massachusetts. We were thrilled that boaters took interest to the big blue ship; cautiously, but curiously approaching when we stopped to send down equipment. During boat to boat conversations from the back deck, they said they had never seen anything like the Bold before. It was a great opportunity to explain firsthand what we were doing, and why we have this research ship. When I said we were sampling water quality along the coastline they asked, “Is it ok for swimming?”

"OSV Bold uses a CTD (Conductivity, Temperature, Depth) to measure water samples at different depths."

I explained for swimming yes. We were looking for something less obvious, sampling the bottom, middle, and surface depths further offshore compared to estuaries, or bays, more geographically enclosed areas where rivers and streams meet the sea. In this confluence of environments where fresh water sources and land meet the ocean, are there specific indications showing that our land-based activities are having too much of a negative impact in the coastal environment? Too much would mean that the natural environment can’t cope with the influx of pollutants and runoff from land. Examples of this can be algal blooms, or “fish kills.” More obvious to many would be closed beach days due to bacterial pollution in the water, that’s always from our sewage and runoff too.

This is why for the third year, we sampled for nutrients, specifically, phosphorus and nitrogen, and also for chlorophyll (plant matter in the ocean). Nutrients (commonly found in fertilizers, as an example) help plants grow. Excess amounts can cause algal overgrowth and deteriorate natural conditions, sometimes to the point where fish and other sea life cannot survive.

If we see trends from something specific like nutrients, then we hope to better inform decisions made on land: encouraging SmartGrowth and sustainable development, better sewage treatment, or generally raising awareness about more environmentally conscious day to day activities.

The Bold isn’t just an ocean going research vessel, it’s one of our best tools to study our natural world and use that science to inform how we protect our environment.

About the author: Jeanethe Falvey, U.S. EPA Office of External Affairs and Environmental Education, based in Boston, Massachusetts.

Editor’s Note: The opinions expressed in Greenversations are those of the author. They do not reflect EPA policy, endorsement, or action, and EPA does not verify the accuracy or science of the contents of the blog.

"The OSV Bold off Ogunquit, Maine"

By Jeanethe Falvey

There is so much more to this ship than meets the eye. On this research trip, I became enamored with a layer of this ship’s character that’s often overlooked.

Crew members frequently wear shirts defining “Bold” across the back. Talk to those who have been with this ship and it fits. It came to EPA as the USNS Bold (U.S. Naval Ship) and became the OSV Bold (Ocean Survey Vessel) in its second life. Though it has a better paint job and newer scientific equipment, it’s the same, strong, ship it always was. Considered safer and more versatile than its sister ships, because of the grit, sweat and dedication put into it day after day.

"Scientists deploy the rosette water sampler and CTD"

Some spend 11 months out of the year onboard, the Bold is home. Get them going and they’ll talk passionately about the biodegradable hydraulic oil they use to not harm marine life, saving and recycling the smallest bits and pieces. This ship opened their eyes to environmental protection they say. They love how it’s publicly accessible; admitting that being a small part of it makes them feel proud.

There’s “Chief,” who will quietly slip by, but is loaded with stories and more engine room time than most of us can fathom as chief engineer. He helped recover the Bold from Pearl Harbor’s “boneyard,” days before it became EPA’s vessel in 2004. You can see Warner’s dedication, looking quite at home in a blue mechanics suit and knee pads crawling within and maintaining the ships underbelly as it churns away better than most well oiled machines.

Descending into the engine room, I didn’t just walk down more stairs than I expected, I walked decades back into time.
Ear plugs muffled the noise, warm air blew. I thought I was in a different time entirely. Levers and knobs in the control room looked new but were built during or shortly after WWII. Engines looked just painted, the diesel tanks are coated from the inside out and redone as often as needed.

"OSV Bold, Chief Engineer, Gary Jenkins"

Walking into the heart of the Bold, I can appreciate how a ship acquires personality and how a crew grows so fond. “A ship dies from the inside out,” Chief says, “but an old truck maintained can still carry wood down the road.” I won’t jinx anything by saying more than this: the engineers say she’s got a lot of time left. Still going strong from a military to a civilian environmental job, here’s to hoping many steady years to come in her mission to better protect our environment; a great deal due to them.

About the author: Jeanethe Falvey, U.S. EPA Office of External Affairs and Environmental Education, based in Boston, Mass.

I’m not sure why, but getting on this ship always makes me smile. Maybe it’s the familiar faces among the crew that I’m lucky enough to see every so often, the feeling of the ship when it’s underway, or the smell of Amanda’s cooking. Surely it’s a combination, but above all else, I know the underlying reason this beautiful ship makes me so happy – the sheer fact that the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency has it to learn more about our world.

Of all U.S. vessels and ships supporting our missions worldwide, this one of ours isn’t gray, anymore. The OSV Bold is bright blue with a proud green, blue and white sash down the bow. This is no ordinary ship.

Today, ferries full of Boston tourists have passed us and I can’t help but wonder what they’re thinking as we wave back and forth.

Just heard a horn blast from the Coast Guard station; we’re off! The tone is serious, but excited as crew members untie and Captain Jere heads up to the bridge.

It’s all for science. This is all to have a better understanding of the
impacts we’ve had on our oceans and coastal environment.

These impacts aren’t just from activities on the water, they’re mostly from what we do far, far away on land. Rainwater and storm runoff carries pollution from our roads and paved areas to rivers and coasts. That pollution can be found miles offshore. It’s not the most beautiful topic, but our sewage ends up out here too. Treatment helps, but it doesn’t make elements of it disappear.

How much can the environment take? Well it varies.  For a long time, dilution was the solution, but our oceans are only so big. The life they support, which we treasure so deeply, can only take so much.

Today through early Thursday of next week (August 11) follow my updates about our trip. Ask questions here or reply to our tweets while I’ve got the ear of some of our best scientists.

At the very least we hope to give you an idea of why we feel this work is so important.

About the author: Jeanethe Falvey, U.S. EPA Office of External Affairs,
Washington D.C. Based in Boston, Massachusetts.

By Maggie Reilly

I was reluctant to sign onto a week aboard the OSV Bold for a survey in Long Island Sound. I am prone to motion sickness and a week sounded like a long time. However, on second thought, I realized that the experience of living and working on a ship was something that I would never have the opportunity to do again. So, prepared with every over-the-counter motion sickness medication available, I boldly boarded the Bold.

My fellow interns and I were greeted by a friendly crew in New London, CT. We watched from the best vantage point as the captain and his crew orchestrated the pull away from the dock. I had seen pictures of the boat before but I didn’t realize how big she was until I saw her. She’s an old navy ship, retrofitted to conduct surveys to assist the EPA in monitoring critical areas. She runs on 2 electric motors, their original purpose to run quietly to spy on North Korean and Russian submarines.

The Bold was my home for seven days. We worked long hours, watching sonar scans of the ocean’s bottom, hoping to see more than just sand, and deploying the SPI (Sediment Profile Imaging system), which takes pictures of sediment. The work can be tiring, frustrating if equipment fails, and rewarding when you see something exciting.

I must say, I am not a scientist and lack some of the patience required. I had a previous encounter with oceanography and it was not for me. When I signed up for the class, I was expecting to enjoy a semester of learning about dolphins and sea-turtles…that was not the case. In fact, the first words out of my teacher’s mouth were, “if you were hoping to learn about dolphins you’ve come to the wrong place.” As it turns out, oceanography is a complicated mix of biology, chemistry, geology, and physics. There is often a delicate balance of elements where a small change could have huge effects.

In my studies of economics, we often use scientific data. Studies about an ecosystem’s health are used to calculate the ecological cost of contamination—measuring human impact is vital to creating mechanisms within the marketplace to curb damages. Even though I may not conduct experiments, I will use results in my work. From my time on the Bold, I now understand and appreciate these results better.

About the author: Maggie Reilly is a rising senior at Bates College, where she studies Economics and Environmental Studies. She has been a summer intern in the EPA Region 1 Public Affairs office and is a native of the Boston Area.

Editor’s Note: The opinions expressed in Greenversations are those of the author. They do not reflect EPA policy, endorsement, or action, and EPA does not verify the accuracy or science of the contents of the blog.

By Dr. Joel Hoffman

Science Workshop, Day#1 Wrap up

Wednesday we officially kicked-off the science education workshop on the Lake Guardian Research Vessel! Our educators arrived by plane and car from across the Great Lakes – New York to Minnesota. For those who have not been on a large lake or to sea on a large research vessel, it’s hard to describe your first impression. You enter the R/V Lake Guardian from the back deck, walking a gang plank from the shore on to the working portion of the vessel. A massive, black steel tower, called an A-frame, and a number of large cables and winches, take up the better portion of your view. These are the mechanical systems used to lower various sampling gears hundreds or thousands of feet down into the lake. You can’t see the front of the boat. The three decks stretch to the sky, over the top of which you can see the diesel stacks. There is a constant hum and vibration when you stop onboard. This is the sound of the engine idling, providing power to the ship.

After settling in, the educators spent the afternoon at the Great Lakes Aquarium while the scientists aboard the ship prepped the biological and chemical labs, as well as readied their field sampling equipment, for use. We brought onboard science equipment including two special nets that are pulled behind the vessel – a manta trawl for sampling plastics and a tucker trawl for sampling fish larvae.  Also a variety of microscopes with cameras attached for photographing, counting and measuring organisms. A special sensor was brought that can quickly determine the different types of algae present in the lake. And a great deal of filtering equipment was brought along for water quality sampling. We will blog more on the science equipment as we go along.

Tomorrow we run out to Stony Point to intercept a remote sampling vehicle that “flies” through the water by itself, taking measurements of the lake’s physical and chemical characteristics, such as temperature and color. It has been sampling for the past two days across the western arm of Lake Superior, taking continuous measurements. From there, we will head back towards Duluth for our first official Year of Lake Superior sampling site as part of the Coordinated Science and Monitoring Initiative. This will be our first major science station for the cruise.

Group of teachers at the Great Lakes Aquarium working on their first assignment - concept mapping.

The first day of the cruise is always tough and exciting. Tough because there are many preparations to be made, exciting because Thursday, we will push away from the dock, say farewell to land, and go to work.

About the author: Dr. Joel Hoffman is a research biologist in EPA’s Mid-Continent Ecology division, and. the head scientist for the 2011 Lake Guardian Shipboard and Shoreline workshop on Lake Superior.

Each year, as the summer season comes to an end, I reflect on the experiences that made it a great summer. As a new employee at EPA, this summer was particularly exciting. I had the experience of working with the Mid-Atlantic Region’s Coastal Science Team, led by Renee Searfoss and Jim Gouvas . The two-week monitoring cruise, aboard EPA’s Ocean Survey Vessel (OSV), the BOLD consisted of two surveys spanning from North Carolina to the south tip of New Jersey. Working in shifts of four hours on and eight hours off, I worked from noon until 4pm and again from midnight to 4am! Those lucky enough to work the 4-8 shift were able to enjoy both the sunrise and sunset!

EPA is required to biannually monitor the Region’s two designated ocean disposal sites – the Norfolk Ocean Disposal and the Dam Neck Ocean Disposal Sites – to ensure that no further degradation has occurred from the placement of dredge material or fish waste. For the first survey, we collected sediment samples, monitored fish waste and conducted sonar scanning.

At the Dam Neck Disposal Site, we collected fifty surface sediment samples, which were analyzed for grain size, total organic carbon (TOC), metals, distribution, biomass and the presence of bottom-dwelling species. By comparing data with a control site, we could tell what has occurred at the waste sites due to the material disposed there.

The team conducted eight tow runs using a rocking-chair dredge to collect sediment from the ocean floor (picture), such as Horseshoe crab and Hermit crab, which were identified and returned to the site. Lastly, the team conducted eight transects using a trawl net. This part was exciting – you never know what you could catch! Although different species of fish, such as Northern Sea Robins and Spotted Hakes, were identified, you won’t find any fishermen fishing the area, there weren’t any commercially useful fish present.

In short, the voyage was very successful and made for an extremely memorable summer experience. Everyone comes with a wealth of experience and all shared a passion for the ocean and its continued preservation. Research expeditions like this one are crucial to maintain our knowledge of the effects humans have on our oceans.

About the auth0r: Matthew Colip works as a biologist in EPA Region 3’s Water Protection Division dealing with issues related to data and information systems management.

Day 3 – August 1, 2009

03:30 a.m. my alarm goes off. It didn’t take much to wake up as the rolling waves had me sleeping a little lighter last night. At 03:48 I rolled myself out of bed and had to do a bit of a balancing dance to stay upright, get dressed, and not wake up Kate.

As I entered the wet lab to greet the departing team and my group, I could tell the Bold was hauling its way to the next offshore station. The staff and crew hadn’t slowed down for a minute all night long.

We were headed “down East” as they say, up along the outer reaches of Penobscot Bay in northern Maine to station R1 -14, about 30 more minutes. Shifts have been light on the sampling as we’re working our way through the outer points which are fewer and far between. In a day or so we’ll be turning around to work our way down closer to shore, where the work will really pick up.

I found out that the last team had done another plankton tow for our budding marine scientists in New Bedford, MA around midnight. I wonder if they caught anything good? Chief scientist Matt Liebman says that the zooplankton tend to move up in the water column at night, whereas during the day they tend to trade places with the phytoplankton which relies on more sunlight.

Speaking of sunlight, it seemed to come up quickly. Though I have to admit I enjoyed the hour or so of darkness on the deck, it felt a bit special knowing we were doing this work round the clock. We all feel it’s incredibly important to study the water that seemingly is far away from the influence of human activity, sadly though we’re finding that it’s not the case. By gathering this data far offshore, we can compare it to the health nearer to the coastline. It is our hope that in future years we can come back and do the same sampling to see if conditions are improving or getting worse. Perhaps you’ll be doing this very same work someday!

At 04:37 we arrived on station, and we were told the water was about 470 feet deep! We deployed the CTD and rosette water sampler, everything went smoothly. I noticed the water I was bottling from the very bottom was freezing! Now might be a good time to explain that we’re taking water samples from three parts of the water column, the bottom, the middle and the surface. I’ll explain more tomorrow about what we’re looking for to determine where these levels are. Each of the three batches though is filtered to catch the chlorophyll, which we carefully contain for analysis at our lab in Chelmsford, MA.

We processed the samples as we took off for station R1-10, about a 5 hour haul away, even further north. To help the next team we cleaned the lab and labeled some extra bottles, I headed to the bridge to get some photos of the rising sun. Once I got there, I promptly decided I wasn’t going to miss another sunrise on this trip.

At 06:10 I sat up on the bridge with Derek, ordinary seaman and Doug, third mate, to record our latest data results from yesterday and this morning. They told me we were approximately 26 miles offshore and wouldn’t have an internet signal until this afternoon. Today’s sampling work will consist of a lot of offshore stations, fewer and further between. Sorry guys! Technology still can’t help us when we’re this far away. In between writing my eyes were peeled on the horizon for those telltale water spouts…

06:21 Doug and Derek, turned on the weather report for Captain Jere as he settled in his chair with a fresh cup of coffee. At 07:00 I went to wake my roomie, her shift was starting in an hour. I also figured it was a good time to take some sea sick meds to be on the safe side. We were rockin’ and rollin quite a bit, even though the seas were relatively calm, the swells were wide.

Before I knew it, I had zonked out with my jacket still on, but awoke to a gentle knock on my door. Even in my groggy state I knew it could only mean one thing! My team leader Ed had come down from the bridge to tell me that First Mate Doug had spotted a spout!
I didn’t even tie my shoes (don’t try this at home), and ran up the stairs using the walls and handrails because I wasn’t totally awake yet. Once I reached the bridge I squinted my eyes onto the horizon and sure enough, about 200 yards off the bow on the starboard side I saw the little, white puff of mist from the whale’s blow hole! I got some pictures and used my zoom lens as binoculars. We watched his dorsal fin come up and then disappear into the deep blue. While it was only a glimpse into this whale’s solitary travels, I hope it’s a sign of more to come today!

That was my first time seeing a whale in the Atlantic Ocean, and after consulting a whale identification book with Doug and Ed, we are fairly positive it was a Common Minke Whale, judging by the shape of the dorsal fin and even the shape of the spout cloud. Not all misty spout clouds are the same!

It’s a little past 1000 now, and I’m up on the “steel beach” as Captain Jere fondly calls it. The sun is bright, we seem to be able to see forever to the horizon. Now I can understand why so many early explorers thought the Earth was flat! Did you know that? Believe it or not it took humans a while to figure out that the Earth is round, and because of this you can’t see the other side of the ocean, it curves around very, very, gradually, which is one of the reasons you can’t see the other side.

Fellow EPA staffer Regina Lyons just joined me, and we traded stories of “sightings” today. Whereas I had been lucky enough to see a Minke whale, she said that as she was leaning over the side of the boat watching the waves, she saw four balloons go by in 20 minutes. Wonder how those got out here? It’s so pristine you’d never expect it, but balloons can travel hundreds of miles in the air before they fall back down. These ones were white and silver mylar, maybe they came from a birthday party or a wedding? We were going too fast to grab them, and it sadly tells another story about the ocean these days. We shouldn’t see garbage and plastics out here, especially in an area off northern Maine where less people live. Regina said they had started to degrade a little bit, but usually the bits of garbage just break into smaller pieces, especially plastics. They never really go away.
More on the rest of my day later! ~ Jeanethe, “aspiring Second Mate”

Jeanethe Falvey works in EPA’s Boston office.

The sun set around 7:45, and my first shift began! Sporting a bright orange vest and hard hat, my team helped to deploy the CTD off the starboard side of the BOLD just off Cape Ann in Gloucester, MA.

In this first day (and a half day at that) we were able to sample 7 stations!  Chlorophyll samples are being sent to EPA New England’s laboratory on land in Chelmsford, MA.

Stations labeled “R1…” are located on the Captain’s Log page. New Stations have the latitude and longitude.

At a bit past midnight, my shift ended and we were on course to New Hampshire’s coast. Said, “hello and goodnight” to my roomie who caught the tough shift, she will get back to the room around 4 am.

I wonder what tomorrow will bring!

Jeanethe Falvey works in EPA’s Boston office.

Hi there! Each day thousands of people are working at EPA to help clean up our environment. I’m one of the lucky few that gets to see how this work is done out on the ocean! My name is Jeanethe Falvey, I’m 24 years old and have worked for EPA for just over two years since I graduated from Bates College in 2007. This week, from July 30 – August 6, I will be onboard the OSV BOLD, EPA’s only ocean research ship. Scientists will be studying the health of New England’s coastline from Boston Harbor to Penobscot Bay in Maine, and I’m here to help show you what life is like onboard the ship. Learn more at http://www.epa.gov/ne/boldkids/ and follow me on Twitter @epalive!

Jeanethe Falvey works in EPA’s Boston office.

About the author: About the author: Charles LoBue serves as the chief scientist and diver for the US Virgin Island leg of the OSV BOLD voyage. He is an environmental scientist in EPA Region 2 in New York City.

March 6, 2009 (Day 26)

For most of our trip so far, the weather has been very good to us, and we’ve been able to keep to our itinerary. But when the weather doesn’t cooperate, all of our plans are thrown off. Unfortunately, that’s the current situation that we’ve found ourselves in as a strong, low pressure front is upon us and the weather is quickly becoming a problem. Rain is now pelting down, and winds are howling out of the northwest with gusts up to 39 knots (about 45 mph).

This will prevent us from working at our remaining stations on the northwest of St. Thomas. It’s not the rain that concerns us, but the sustained high winds that are creating rough sea conditions and will make it virtually impossible to be able to put our small diving boats out into the water. It is what it is, and we all have to keep in mind that this is beyond our control. We go back to the drawing board to figure out what is in our control. We decide to cast off from our dockage in Charlotte Amalie, cruise east, and anchor in Coral Bay in St. John. We’re hoping that the stations in this embayment on southwest St. John, are protected enough to allow diving.

We are so grateful for the assistance of The Virgin Islands Department of Planning and Natural Resource in helping us transport some of our divers, using their fast monitoring boat, the Vigilant. She’s been docked in St. Thomas, so crossing Pillsbury Sound to rendezvous with us could be a difficult task if the seas are rough. But as the BOLD bounds into 4 to 6-foot seas before turning into Coral Bay, we anchor and it seems calmer, and we’re delighted to see the Vigilant anchored at our meeting point. It’s time to get to work.

We’re able to safely load the Vigilant and two BOLD rigid-hulled, inflatable boats on the leeside of the massive BOLD hull. Although stiff winds prevail, the sea surface tucked behind these mountains seems to be staying down enough to allow diving. We’ll find out as divers return and have a chance to report back to us.

As the boats return, the sun is now shining and we learn of success; the waters are workable. Being a glass-half-full kind of guy, I’m confident that we’ll have success in our next two days here on the south side, and we’ll ultimately get the weather to allow us to return to complete our stations on the north sides of St. Thomas and St. John.