During the audition for a coveted spot on the Elysium Expedition Science Team, I pitched my vision of recreating the role of the ship's geoscientist 100 years later, providing a unique perspective to the discussions of climate change, glaciology and oceanography. My vision of a geoscientist-in-Antarctica was supported by numerous corporate and industry association sponsors, including APEGGA, and by generous individual donors.
THE MISSION IN DETAIL
The 2010 Elysium Visual Epic Expedition's mission was to undertake oceanographic studies and to document the impacts of accelerating climate change, both above and below the water. During the past 50 years, the Western Antarctic Peninsula has increased in temperature by 3 C. Experiencing more than twice the world’s average warming trend, the peninsula is an ideal outdoor laboratory to study climate change.
Because 71 per cent of the planet's surface area is blanketed by oceans, the study of ocean change – including the dynamic relationship between ocean acidification and sea ice melting – is fundamental to understanding climate change.
For 19 days, the Elysium Team – comprising 57 explorers from 19 nations – scouted, recorded and documented this fragile continent, the planet's last remaining frontier. The expedition will deliver a feature film, a TV documentary, a photo essay book and a permanent photo archive. These will be rolled out in 2014, in conjunction with the centennial celebrations of Shackleton's epic journey.
The science team's task was to study the genetic distribution of Antarctic krill (Euphausia superba), shrimp-like crustaceans that are the keystone species of the Southern Ocean. Literally every species in Antarctica relies upon krill for its survival; failure of krill populations could precipitate a dangerous domino effect in the ecosystem.
On the Western Antarctic Peninsula, we witnessed – at eye level, from rigid-hull inflatable boats – the food chain in action. Voracious crabeater seals chased large swarms of red krill in a feeding frenzy no less impressive than something you might see on the Serengeti Plain.
The Western Antarctic Peninsula’s continental shelf is widely believed to house the major breeding grounds of krill. Once born, they are carried downstream into the Scotia Sea by the Antarctic Circumpolar Current.
Dr. Cabell Davis, the Elysium Team's chief scientist and a senior scientist in the Biology Department of the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, says that observed warming in this region has coincided with a reduced krill population. Also concurrent is an increase in salp populations. More commonly known as sea squirts, salps are pelagic (or open-ocean) tunicates.
Although microsatellite DNA markers are being developed for Euphausia superba from the Western Antarctic Peninsula, the genetic similarity of downstream krill populations is not yet known. Scientists also know little of the genetic composition of salps (Salpa thompsoni) originating from the peninsula.
Weighing in globally at a staggering 125 to 725 million tonnes of biomass, krill also represent an important commercial fishery. Just as the great whales migrate annually to Antarctica – to gorge on krill – so travel the international fishing fleets which collectively capture 150,000 tonnes of krill every year in the nutrient-rich waters of the Southern Ocean.
Rich in protein, fatty acids, lipids and enzymes, krill are used in the aquaculture, livestock, pet food and medical industries. Their Omega-3 fatty acids are also packaged as nutritional supplements.
An international body, the Commission for the Conservation of Antarctic Marine Living Resources uses ecosystem-based management to set catch limits for the global krill fishery. Looking to the future, however, ecosystem management may face considerable challenges (and uncertainties) in an era of environmental change.
MEET THE GIZMO
The Science Team needed calm waters – an exceedingly rare occurrence in the Scotia Sea – to deploy a plankton net, a holographic camera, and a Digital Autonomous Video Plankton Recorder with the Professor Molchanov's crane boom. Constrained by frequent high seas, we successfully deployed the equipment six times, with a bonus test run near Elephant Island. When it was determined that the recorder’s strobe light was contaminating the holographic images, the holocamera was retired.
In total, 174,720 colour images were captured by this high-tech recording device, which, due to its unwieldy name and acronym (DAVPR) was affectionately renamed The Gizmo. The DAVPR also carried equipment to measure plankton bio-fluorescence, and water turbidity, salinity and temperature.
Earlier this year, Dr. Davis, one of the DAVPR's inventors, deployed this real-time, non-destructive optical imaging technology in the Gulf of Mexico, photographing oil droplets and plankton in the wake of the BP Deepwater Horizon oil spill.
In the Scotia Sea, albatrosses of many species magically materialized – seemingly from nowhere – when the plankton nets hit the water. Some 30 minutes later, they departed annoyed and empty-bellied, when the net containing a salp-dominated mix was hauled out of the water.
Cause and effect? Perhaps this is not an elegant scientific experiment, but nonetheless I suspect that the albatrosses equated a free meal with a boat equipped with what must have seemed like a fishing net.
BAR SPECIMENS
The science team commandeered about one-third of the ship’s bar space, transforming it into a portable science laboratory. This situation initially generated some grumblings amongst the non-scientific explorers. The laboratory was outfitted with a photomicroscope for viewing and photographing tiny zooplankton and phytoplankton, and a light box for examining the larger specimens.
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Dr. Steve Nicol, the expedition's krill expert from the Australian Antarctic Division, provided tutorials on how to classify krill, larval krill, copepods, amphipods and salps. Equipped with new-found knowledge – and with tweezers poised – I was excited to contribute to this oceanographic research.
But no one warned me about a particularly robust “plankton” specimen. Yes, I discovered a tomopterid worm in one of the early plankton net tows. Moving its paddle-like body extensions, the tomopterid worm swam energetically around the dish.
Revisiting my invertebrate zoology background – I have an honours bachelor of science degree in geology and marine biology from Dalhousie University – I worked alongside the scientific team, sorting through buckets of sea water recovered by the plankton net from depths of 148 to 216 metres. Predominated by gelatinous cocoons secreted by salps, we affectionately dubbed this aqueous mess salp soup.
In conversation with Dr. Nicol, I confided that my mother, a marine biologist, had always referred to krill as "euphausiids." True to the movie Jerry Maguire, I had Dr. Nicol at euphausiids. Continued conversation revealed a surprising connection with just one degree of separation -- Dr. Nicol had received his doctorate from Dalhousie University; our educations at Dalhousie had overlapped; and we had studied with the same marine biology professors. We speculated, further, that he might have been one of my laboratory demonstrators.
Between the science team's powers of observation and The Gizmo’s optical eye, we classified radiolarians, diatoms, ostracods, ctenophore jellies, copepods, amphipods, salps and worms. The DAVPR also imaged marine snow particles – actually decaying organic matter, but dubbed such because of their snowflake-like beauty – which form a potentially important food source for krill in the open ocean.
Based upon analyzing the plankton net hauls and the DAVPR imaging, we observed that krill and larval krill were in short supply in the open ocean. Our initial observations supported the phenomenon previously noted by Dr. Davis and his global peers. That is that a climate-warming-related increase in salps is displacing krill in the Atlantic sector of the Southern Ocean.
Samples were preserved, both cryogenically in liquid nitrogen and in formalin. A portion of the salps and krill samples were sent to the Census of Marine Zooplankton for DNA bar-coding, to determine the degree of genetic similarity of populations distributed across the Scotia Sea. The digital and preserved samples data will be used to estimate the abundance of krill and other plankton, in relation to marine snow and hydrography.
SCIENCE GETS EVEN COOLER
Our return voyage from South Georgia to Ushuaia, the southernmost city on the South American continent, involved five days of sailing across the roughest seas in the world. En route, we encountered a Force 11 storm with waves cresting 15 metres in height and winds whipping at 110 kilometres an hour. When the Professor Molchanov docked in Ushuaia, we had logged 3,277 nautical miles in 19 days.
No longer focused on getting the money shots or on planning the logistical details of the next shore visit or dive, Elysium team members had free time on the return voyage, and were looking for interesting tasks.
The science team, however, took advantage of calm seas during the early part of the return voyage and continued to work. While we were processing the final plankton tows, an interesting transformation occurred in the Professor Molchanov's bar: science suddenly became cool. Or cooler.
Scientists were swarmed by enthusiastic explorers, who queued up at the microscopes to examine and photograph plankton swimming in the salp soup, and krill, the engine of the Southern Ocean. Shrewdly reassessing our role, we moved seamlessly into mentors for these scientists-in-the-making. Recognizing the situation as a value-added educational opportunity, I gladly handed over my tweezers and relaxed with a glass of fine Argentine malbec.
Coaching from the sidelines, I cautioned, "Watch out for the tomopterid worms! They're small but scary critters!”
The bar-cum-laboratory had morphed into an elegant teaching platform, and the adult students were buzzing with excitement. I marvelled as this exciting transformation unfolded in many languages.
"The science outreach activity on this expedition was excellent," concurred Dr. Davis. "The interfacing of scientists with, photographers, cinematographers, artists, writers and musicians was unparalleled."
The cross-pollination of scientists with diverse individuals and skill sets will, no doubt, result in numerous, multi-faceted collaborations among Elysium team members. Given the right type of educational platform, this transformation process works amazingly well with children, the geoscientists and engineers of the future.
And, as APEGGA members, the teaching platforms needed to inspire today's youth can often be found in our everyday workplaces. We had a bar in the Antarctic as our platform. But a coffee table in your reception area, a kitchen counter or teacher’s desk can be yours.
Susan R. Eaton. P.Geol., P.Geoph., M.Sc., is a professional geologist, a professional geophysicist, a freelance writer and an extreme snorkeler. She lives in Calgary. To read Susan's Dispatches from Antarctica and South Georgia or the Elysium's Science Report, or to view her photographs and videos, visit www.susanreaton.com.
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