Like Ellery I had very little snorkel experience before Palmyra and it is quite the place to start. My first snorkel here was an attempt to track the bumphead parrot fish. As I sputtered and swallowed salt water and felt my eyes burn from the water that had leaked into my mask, I had a hard time seeing how anyone could want to do this for fun. As it turned out, it's not always such a struggle, and in fact, I wasn't inherently horrible at snorkeling -- my mask was broken. My next two experiences were stark contrasts to my first, both amazing and exhilarating. It's like another world being underwater with nothing to listen to but the sound of your own breathing and the faint noise of fish chomping on bits of coral. The living images before you here seem to come straight out Planet Earth and even without a point of comparison, I'm awestruck by the magic of it. I can only imagine what Nick or Chris think having done a fair amount of snorekeling in less healthy reefs before.
If there was nothing in the water but the corals, it would still be a spectacular sight...perhaps the most impressive is the table top corals that are more twice as wide as we are tall. However for me, the magic is in the creatures that maneuver through and around the corals. I'm a huge "Finding Nemo" fan but watching little fish swim through staghorn corals in real life is infinitely better than watching it on a big screen. I could follow the activity in staghorn corals for several hours alone but I find the larger animals to be even more impressive. I've always loved sea turtles and practically squeel with excitement at every sighting. If the tides hadn't forced us to leave Tortegonias this morning, I would have tried to follow one for hours. While I'm not so keen about black tip and white tip sharks becoming too friendly with me, from a safe distance it's marvelous to watch them. Perhaps the highlight of today's snorkel was the chance to finally swim with a manta. Everytime we see one from a lagoon boat, Chris mourns the fact that we don't keep snorkels and masks on hand but today we were already in the water. Gliding smoothly through the water, mantas are one of the most majestic animals I've seen and it was magical to swim alongside one.
One other notable sight, though not living, was the longliner wreck. As Hillary told us, the ship belonged to Koreans who purposefully wrecked it in US waters under the belief that they'd be able to stay in America if their ship wrecked. Unfortunately for them, they were misinformed and got sent home. Meanwhile the ship has begun to leech iron into the water and has become somewhat of an environmental burden. Burden or not, it is still a sight to behold. This massive rusted ship is full of dark windows into it's murky interior. Whether or not real danger lurks inside, one can't shake the feeling that a tiger shark is just waiting for curious prey to swim by. In other words, I was glad to see it, but also glad to move on to our next snorkel site.
Lest you get the idea that our time here has turned entirely to fun and games, let me assure you that several projects have consumed most of our time over the past few days. Some of my favorites have included collecting feathers from boobies, tropic birds and frigates with Hillary (though the first tropic bird I saw didn't yield many feathers, it was the most adorable ball of fuzz I've ever seen) and taking tissue samples from groupers with Doug.
I think I speak for all of us when I say this has been a whirlwind experience thus far and it's hard to believe how little time we have left to take in everything that makes Palmyra so unique.

-Tessaly

We went snorkeling this morning!

You wouldn't think that after being on an island atoll for nearly a month the prospect of going snorkeling could still inspire enough excitement to lead a bunch of overworked undergraduates to wake up at 6:00 am after a 12 hour work day to go snorkeling. The fact that it did is not so striking if you consider that all our past efforts to go snorkeling have ended in debacle. 

The first time we made an attempt to view the for-reef was plagued by a rainstorm. With the strong winds churning up sand and clouds obstructing the sunlight the "viz" was somewhat disappointing. It being my first time seeing a coral reef, I was still utterly enchanted by what I saw but the assurance from Chris that it could get a lot better,  made me eager to go again.  The second time we were allotted time to snorkel we had a nasty little low pressure system appear just as we were leaving the dock. Although dismayed about the suboptimal weather, we were determined to stay in good spirits and make the most of the afternoon. Sadly, as we approached the mooring, we received a radio call ordering us in.  

After two failed attempts Doug jokingly conjectured that we are cursed and that the next time we get off to go snorkeling we would be told to collect rat traps the next day only to  be surprised by Hillary and him standing at the dock with our snorkel stuff ready, in an attempt to fake out the weather. Luckily, it was not necessary to resort to these tactics of deception for the weather looked kindly upon us this morning. We left the dock at 6:30 am just as the sun was beginning to rise. Our boat ride out was accompanied by a flaming eastern sky and pastel colored amalgam of fluffy clouds to the west. Our first destination was Tortagonias with its characteristic stag horn and tabletop corals. The early morning sun sent nearly horizontal spears of light through the water's surface, illuminating the coral on one side while leaving long shadows trailing off the other.

 I don't feel quite up to the task of describing what we saw today on the five sights we visited today so I think I'll let Nick's photos continue where I leave off.

What is the largest thing imaginable that you never tire to behold? A starry night sky, of course!

Since we’ve arrived here the moon has been rising several hours after sunset. Although beautiful in itself, I cherish the time before the silver orb peeks above the palm frawns for its light obliterates a view of the stars as stunning as it must have been to the first of mankind. It is not only the sheer number or stars that is so awe-inspiring; the velvety blackness in between is equally striking. It can be hard to make out the constellations since all the stars are so bright but I’ve been able to find all the constellations on the star map given to me by family friends before departing. Last night we had a clear sky and a new moon. We were relived from lab work that night so Chris, Nick and I wandered to North Beach to gaze at the stars. We attempted to sleep out on the beach but I don’t think any of us were very successful. Its hard to close your eyes when the milky way is wrapped across the firmament demanding adoration and hard to tune out the crashing of the waves and the screeching of the sooty terns; sounds that have been here millennia before the first human ear perceived them. I always wondered how early civilizations were able to gain such a sophisticated understanding of the motion of heavenly bodies. How the planets were distinguished from stars always puzzled me but as Nick pointed out, after several nights of stargazing the planets become obvious. We just never take the time to look anymore. The main reason is probably that in many places there isn’t much to look at anymore due to light and chemical pollution.

This is the perpetual theme of Palmyra: It is a place from another time, a time before we entered the anthropocene. Although it utterly new to me it provides a powerful feeling of being at home, a feeling of proximity to the sprit of our early human ancestry.

Finally! The Manta Ray Way...

Okay, okay, I know, I'm sorry. On June 9th I promised to talk about the Manta Ray Way the next day, and it is now... errrr... June 21st?! Oooops! I'm sorry to have kept the masses in suspense, clinging onto their tiny laptops wondering what the post containing the Manta Ray Way would hold - or maybe, you're reading this post and wondering what the hell I'm talking about...

In that case, let me get started! The last ten days have been absolutely INSANE! I've soared with manta rays, spun iradescent webs of galaxy with my feet, seen 1,000s of dolphins, yes, thousands, watched the sky slowly burst into morning flames, single handedly forced the ocean to boil for acres, played with hundreds of sharks, and all around had some of the most amazing experiences of my life. Let me explain...
Four of my last ten nights have been spent on a small 14-foot outboard motor boat, continually tracking a single manta ray to monitor its behavior and movement patterns. If you're wondering what exactly a manta ray is, as I originally was, click here. Or, feel comforted that these are some of the most beautiful creatures I've witnessed. These rays normally range between 5-10 feet wide (that's HUGE!) and glide slowly through the sea, softly escorting invisible plankton into their gaping mouths. After following these big fellas for a while I have a favor to ask of you all; whenever someone drops the rare phrase, "Let's take the scenic route," I want you to respond, "You mean the Manta Ray Way, right?" I know, I know, lame right? But utterly true. These giant creatures have not a hurry in the world as they peacefully glide through the sea, spinning gorgeous barrel rolls and traversing steep cliffs to corral plankton.

While following the mantas through wind, rain, and all out stormy hell, invisible phytoplankton blink neon green around your boat, like lightning bugs of the sea. They weave constellations and galaxies as they gush out of the motor, or if walking on shallow flats, they duly shimmer, a little stunned at the weight of your fat feet. The best part: you can never take a photo of them, they cease to exist if you try. Any light overpowers their impressive iradescence. And if these guys aren't enough, at the end of the night you often get to see the sky split into fire, splashing flames into the sea.

One particular day, after tracking manta rays all night, I stepped off the small boat onto a slightly larger boat for all day shark tagging, preparing myself for the most insane 36 hour marathon of wakefulness in my life. This second journey consisted of boating with thousands of bottlenose dolphins, spinner dolphins, and melon headed whales, along with trains of fifteen+ mantas. The spinner dolphins often launched so high in front of the boat we had to alert NASA...

All of this occured before arriving at our prime sharking area. That's when the chum entered the water and the men in trim grey and white suits came out. As they worked themselves into a frenzy, we began tagging mostly Grey Reef and Galapagos sharks, between 5-7 feet long. In order to tag them we had to first catch them, and this involved carefully drawing the beasts of the sea to the side of the boat with short thick line, where you then had to reach over the boat and grab the shark by its dorsal and tail to succesfully tag it. Keep in mind this all occurred while other sharks tried to bite or naw the bait out of the caught shark's mouth. But don't worry, we always had angels watching over our backs, or maybe their actual name is fairy tern...

After reeling in about 30 sharks I felt like a true man... a truly exhausted man that is! I'm glad to inform you all limbs returned home safe, and all sharks returned peacefully to the deep. Although, when one 8+ foot Galapagos shark snagged my bait and ran so hard it broke the line engineered for shark catching, I had second thoughts about the important things in life...

But anyway, we'll all be here waiting for you all to come join us as usual...

Or maybe I'll just meet you in the coconut palms

Success!

Hey this is Nick!

Just a quick update on the pollen core. We've been working hard to iron out all of the kinks and perfect our techniques/equipment, and today we pulled up two 3 meter long cores from the lagoon! They both should be long enough to answer the coconut question.

And something cool: You can see the point that the Navy came here and dredged around. There is a thin layer of sand sitting about half a meter below the surface of the sediment. Other than that, the core looks pretty  much homogenous (thick tan paste) all the way through. Cool!

Hello! This is Nick, and I'm writing about the pollen core project we've been working on for the last few days.

Dave Wahl, a paleoclimatology researcher from Berkeley, came on the plane a few days ago with the new staff, and he has been working with Hillary, Ellery, Marra, and I over the last two days as we built and tested a drilling platform for the middle of the lagoon. We designed the platform to hold a 10 foot tripod, sediment drill, and five people over the deepest part of the western lagoon. It's 12 feet long and 16 feet wide with a hole in the middle for the drill and it floats on gigantic 20 foot styrofoam pontoons we found out behind the workshop.

We're sampling the silty bottom 50 meters below the surface of the water. The goal is to get several 3 or 6 meter long cores of sediment that hopefully will go back 2,500 years in order to search for coconut palm pollen grains. We think the trees may have been introduced here by Polynesians in the relatively recent past (via Fanning Island) and we're trying to pinpoint the time the trees first arrived in Palmyra.

We built the platform in only a few hours yesterday and spent the rest of the time installing the luxury items (an elevated shade tarp and a few comfy lawn chairs) and anchoring and testing the platform. While we were situating the drill this afternoon, I volunteered for the somewhat unsettling job of snorkeling down through the murky water and double-checking the tip. Right before jumping in, Hillary reminded me that, "There are sharks down there, you just can't see them, and there are probably tiger sharks around, so try not to splash around too much." She assured me I had a "high chance of being alright," and then I hopped in. I spent about fifteen minutes in the water diving down to 10 feet and guiding the tip of the drill, and the whole time I was waiting for some big looming shadow to materialize out of the green-tinted waters all around me. All went well until I was back on the platform with my head in the water tieing off the last knots, and a big looming shadow did materialize out of the murk! And it turned out to be Dave Wahl swimming at me from under the other side of the raft with a video camera strapped to his head. In initial fright, I screamed something explicit through my snorkel. I'm sure the video is priceless!

We haven't gotten a sediment core yet, but we did pull up a small practice sample. The sediment down there is super fine and has the exact consistency as toothpaste. We joked that if it didn't smell like hard-boiled eggs, it would make a great face mask at the spa.

Hopefully we will get a few cores tomorrow. Until then, adieu.

Good evening, fine friends
I hope you enjoy haikus
Here's a series of them

My name is Marra
Rising Earth Systems senior
I study oceans

I love the outdoors
The land, the sea, and the sky
And that's why I'm here

Our group is lucky
Few people ever come here
And yet here we are

In the news today
Pollen cores and tagging sharks
Very exciting

And the best part is
That these projects will go on
For several days

Information on
Vegetation history
Comes from pollen cores

Movement patterns and
Feeding habits and pop. size
That's why we tag sharks

Excitement tonight
The manta ray team is out
Tracking with sonar

So in a nutshell
Science is so much fun and
It's amazing here

That's all for tonight
Hope you are all doing well
Goodnight, everyone