Perpetual knowledge

As I was emptying my bedroom in my parental home yesterday, I came across neat stuff like the class photo when I was in 3rd grade of primary education, with our teacher (miss Lieve) and a whole bunch of wildlife and ethnic pictures pinned to the bulletin board on the background. Couldn’t be more typical, for she’s the special someone who determined me to study biology (when I was barely 8!), taking us on convincing trips outside the classroom, and telling us about the beauties and concerns related to the environment. She succeeded in stressing the importance of knowledge and appreciation of the environment far beyond the limits of the “world education” courses.

Although no-one in our family had studied biology before, I was lucky enough to have a speech therapist as a mum who offered us a wealth of adapted books to jump-start our reading skills already from kindergarten, and many of those were of an earth-exploring or even “scientific” nature. We literally cherished and devoured these books, and I couldn’t resist thumbing through some of them again yesterday. One book concerning extreme values of physical properties (designed for 7-year olds, mind you) mentioned this particular phrase, catching my interest: while in deserts summer temperatures may rise well above 50, winter temperatures at the pole vary between -40 and -80°C. I suddenly wondered if I could still read this book (convinced of its truth) to, for instance, my godchild over 7 years, considering the global warming. So I took a swift test on the Internet. I assumed the book meant “[south]” pole temperatures, as north pole temperatures do rise well above -40 due to the tempering effect of the ocean, absent on the continent of Antarctica. I downloaded monthly averaged winter (June – September) temperatures from the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station from 1981 until 2005, and I applied a rough regression analysis extending until 2015. Actually, given the wide range of the premise, I wasn’t really surprised by its correctness. Moreover, temperatures are all between -50 and -70. But surprisingly, the average winter temperature at the South Pole has been decreasing during the last 25 years with 0.75°C, and so when Witse will be 7 years old, average winter temperature at the South Pole will be 60°C and hence this particular book will be more correct as it has ever been. In the meantime, the sleeping bag I bought him will be very convenient for him to go out camping on Antarctica to experimentally verify my hypothesis. Another great scientist is born!

Maiken

Just found this great sailing blog by Fredrik Fransson and Håkan Larsson (listed under “links” as their blog has been inactive since their arrival) – no, not by simply randomly surfing the internet during working hours
I was browsing to the NASA’s OceanColor Web in search for information about their “.out” file type to import processed MODIS satellite imagery in a GIS (for those who care, apparently it’s just the same as HDF, or at least it works just fine with Idrisi’s HDF-Eos import tool). It’s been a long time since I last visited the OceanColor homepage, so I don’t know how long this particular topic has been online, but satellite imagery of a South Pacific volcano eruption was highlighted for general interest. A rarely seen phenomenon was mentioned in the caption: the plume of ash and pumice carried downstream at the sea surface. Already very well visible from space, and completely otherworldly when seen from a lonesome yacht in the pacific, as showed by the link to this blog. The post with the pictures ultimately received 259 comments!
However rare, this kind of experience is exactly what makes wandering the seas on a sailing yacht worth it. Seeing things that you wouldn’t if you’d stay at home or walk on the trails (or, in this case, take the crowded ferry lines from point a to point b in a fast, straight line). I’m sure there is plenty of other interesting stuff and pictures on their blog (for instance, swimming with the whales), of course I haven’t read it all yet, but I will. But for now, it is an excellent bit of publicity for those planning a sailing holiday. A bit more elaborate than my previous sailing experiences (see “unjealousing” and “blue“).

Scientific leisure diving

From: coral-list-bounces@coral.aoml.noaa.gov on behalf of Nathan T. Schwarck
Sent: Fri 1/26/2007 7:19 PM
To: coral-list@coral.aoml.noaa.gov
Subject: [Coral-List] American Academy of Underwater Sciences AnnualSymposium Invitation

All persons interested in underwater sciences or scientific diving are
invited to attend the American Academy of Underwater Sciences Annual
Symposium. This year’s symposium is hosted by the University of Miami’s
Rosenstiel School of Marine and Atmospheric Science in Miami, Florida; March
5-10, 2007. Scientists, Dive Safety Officers, students and diving
technicians are invited to contribute and present papers or posters
describing recent research, underwater research diving techniques and
technological developments related to scientific diving.

Hmm… This is typically the sort of symposium that people attend who always find an excuse to get paid for diving under the guise of science. Er… like me. But I won’t go; I seriously don’t think the international scientific diving community would appreciate my way of “scientific diving”, you know, like getting 24 cages of 20kg each up and down all the time on my own, or diving alone with someone snorkeling at the surface for “surface security”, or getting arrested for not having a diving flag marking the boat (that was cool! My first time taken into custody!). I’m actually quite lucky I’m a marine scientist in Belgium: the expensive “Scientific Diver Certificate” is not required here, but it is elsewhere, and it is almost always required to attend an international expedition. However, the reality of low-cost field research in the middle of nowhere differs enormously from the neat scientific missions organized by wealthy laboratories or research initiatives… And sadly, there’s no session on low-budget scientific diving in the symposium…
Anyway, if I get to dive again in Oman in the framework of a monitoring contract, I’m sure decent logistics and support in the field will also be assured, to the relief of certain people staying at home

Okay, enough cowboy-talk, to reassure you: I don’t do this kind of “rodeo-diving” deeper than 5m anyway, so there’s no need to worry.

The deep blue *boo!* effect

It was on the news the day before yesterday: a “prehistoric” shark normally living hidden away in the depths of the ocean off Japan came up to the surface and, unfortunately, died. Scientists recognized the species, although from 80 million year-old fossils instead of live specimens. A schoolbook example of a “live fossil”: If the environment doesn’t change (and it almost doesn’t, at that depth), there’s no need for obvious evolution. Anyway, the footage looks terrifying (just as one would imagine a prehistoric marine monster), and frankly I wouldn’t have had the guts to almost put the camera in its mouth, as the maker of this videotape did… To list the freakiest close encounters I experienced diving in Oman:

3. Giant Green Turtle emerging from tons of accumulated dead macroalgae at the bottom. It’s usually quite turbid and a bit dark above the dense algal packs at about 10m depth due to the decomposition, and turtles hide in there completely for shelter and feeding. When you’re swimming right above the algae, sometimes turtles emerge because they’re scared and swim away. Although you know what a turtle is and that it’s completely harmless, it scares the hell out of you when a creature the size of you suddenly and unexpectedly appears right in front of you. They swim away so quickly I never had the chance to capture such a moment on camera.

2. A Teira of almost 1m height pops up right in front of your face out of quite turbid waters. It was very inquisitive and followed us for quite some time. At that time I had no idea at all what it was and I didn’t know it was harmless. The picture was taken after I’d drawn my knife in a reflex and I’d put it away when I was at ease a few minutes later. The thing is, as with the turtle, under water you see everything one third bigger than it is (due to the optical properties of water), so I had the impression of looking at a fish that was 133cm high.

1. Fantail Stingrays of about 180cm disc diameter (already more than I am tall!) and 300cm overall length – no need to explain how one perceives that size under water. There’s one bay in the south of Oman we visit each time where you’re guaranteed to see several of those at any given time. Already the first time, 3,5 years ago, I didn’t dare to approach these “monsters” closer than 10m. Over time, I got used to them, but it still frightens me when they suddenly arise from the sand where you didn’t see anything before. And when you did, it’s probably because you saw the eyes or the tail first, and it always takes a few moments before you’d find the other end and realize its full size. Last time I saw them was actually exactly two weeks after Steve Irwin, the famous Australian “crocodile hunter”, got the venomous spine right through his heart while swimming above a stingray like this to film it; he was killed almost instantly…

Fatal attraction

Cold water and me – there’s something about it. Lemme get this straight: I HATE cold water – to me, a shower equals a liquid sauna, and I start shaking like a Parkinson patient in anaphylactic shock after five minutes in 24°C water. So why did I participate in the annual “shiver dive” in the Blaarmeersen in Gent? I was set up. People lured me there with the excuse of all “swimming together, what fun!” and I ended up alone in the water (“you know, I actually have a sore throat and a headache, it’s probably wiser for me not to go in”)… Also, I wanted to proof for once and for all that I’m not a total wimp when it comes to somewhat cooler water (who am I kidding?). Actually, it felt great. I made it to the 2m depth line AND back, and the glowing afterwards is a great sensation; yes, a “kick”!

I was still under the influence of that “kick”, I guess, when I launched the idea of chartering a sailing yacht again this summer, but not in the heavenly hot Mediterranean this time, oh no… so why not in Scandinavia, of all godforsaken places! Well, after several wimps did withdraw for several invalid reasons, we’re still with five people left who’d love to go. A somewhat more experienced team, this time, to make sure I’ll actually enjoy it more than I’d be stressed by concerns about the boat, as the only responsible, like last time. I’d set my mind on this beauty in Dalarö, but we need to be with seven to keep it within our budget… So, still two more persons required who can already decide for sure they are free and willing to join us from 7-14 July… come on, that’s not a hard choice now, is it?! I refuse to go and float around in a 30 footer, for three reasons: 30 footers and less are model making toys, my ego doesn’t fit in a yacht smaller than 36 ft, and, last but least, a 30 ft yacht takes you no-where as the average speed you can get out of it is 2 knots less than a 42 ft yacht. So, anyone in?

Horse manure or not – remember to publish!

At least, that’s what my professor always says, referring to the wealth of papers published by our lab in the past, as opposed to the present lack of continuity in publications, caused by certain new, rather unproductive people (ahum). So although what he said had nothing to do with my blog, I decided to have a new start here, too – I must say other people urged me to do so as well. Well, a new year, a new blogger engine, a new start, sounds good I suppose…
Actually I’ve had thoughts about reorganizing my blog by splitting it into one related to my work as a would-be marine scientist, and one related to leisure and stuff. But on second thoughts apparently I haven’t always time (or interest) to maintain one blog, let alone two, and in any case it sometimes is a thin line between work and non-work, so let me stick to this one – just don’t expect me to publish every day… On the other hand, two blogs would have been an exciting opportunity to architect open-source, global partnerships as to implement integrated paradigms. In the longer run, I could even productize global applications and incentivize next-generation interactive functionalities. (This bullshit generator really IS brilliant!)

It’s actually not only a new start for my blog, I also started writing my first international scientific paper, since I’m about to finalize the remote sensing analyses and I was getting a bit tired of the (however righteous) insinuations made by my professor.

Pauly, K. et al. (2007, hopefully) High resolution superspectral satellite imagery: a new low-cost tool to map benthic macroalgal communities? Journal of Phycology xx (x), xxxx-xxxx.

Thinking of a proper journal was actually a tough call: papers focusing on the actual use of satellite sensors to map different kinds of seaweeds can be counted using only one hand (well, that’s exactly why I did it). It is far from top-quality research: people who saw my self-made “GPS-located video transects to ground-truth the image” will acknowledge that, so I can forget every journal with an impact factor above 3. On the other hand, I still want it to have an impact factor higher than 1 and preferably higher than 2… Then considering the scope, there wasn’t much choice left. Just to give you an idea: the impact factor of Nature and Science is above 30, meaning my work is at least 10 times more irrelevant than the general news-catching science. (Moreover, if this gets accepted after all, I WILL productize my open-source, low cost applications!) The writing should take no more than two months, the review process might take up to six or more. Every single word needs to be scrutinized… And to say that I had a complete scientific paper on informatics ready-made in just about 2 seconds…

Next projects: implementing remote sensing in phylogeny (*this is not bullshit*), and a long-term study of the impacts of the fertilizer plant in Oman, provided I’ll get the monitoring contract (there’s a good chance, but in Oman nothing is sure until it is established). A few months ago, I was criticized for my ecological research in general an my remote sensing research in particular because it puts me too far away from what the rest of the group does, and when I proposed the former project I was criticized because phylogenetic research would blur the “red line” troughout my PhD thesis. So about the last remark, for once and for all: “The ecology of macroalgal communities in the Arabian Seas, including the introduction of remote sensing as a new tool in phycological research.” How about that?!

Oh, by the way, can someone remind me to bring my camera to the lab? The sunsets are magnificent lately, and I have a keen interest in photographing sunsets!