Exploring Orca Basin

As I gaze at the sapphire-blue water surrounding our vessel, I know that just 2 kilometers below me is one of our planet’s harshest environments: an ancient basin full of salt and toxic gases. Also called “Pools of Death”, deep hypersaline anoxic basins (DHABs) are unique seafloor features where salinity increases to 10 times that of seawater and oxygen concentrations approach zero. These environments are cold, dark, and pressure is greater than 200 times that at the ocean’s surface. Deep-sea animals that swim into DHABs are poisoned by hydrogen sulfide and methane gases before being pickled and preserved by the salty brine. Despite these extremes, the top layers of the basin are thought to be hotspots of microbial activity.

Image 1. Photos of the video captured on the ROV camera. A) The murky transition layer between normal seawater and hypersaline brine in Orca Basin. B) Sediment core taken by the ROV at a depth of ~2400 meters and salinity 10 times that of seawater. Images by Veronica Hegelein.

Some consider these basins analogous to other ocean worlds, like the briny moons of Jupiter and Saturn. As a part of the NASA-funded Oceans Across Space and Time (OAST) team, I had the opportunity to sample Orca Basin—a 400 km2 DHAB in the Gulf of Mexico—during Summer 2023. During our twelve days aboard the R/V Pt Sur, our team of 13 scientists and engineers conducted 21 CTD casts and 11 dives with a remotely operated vehicle (ROV) upon which 10 sediment cores were collected from deep within the basin. I spent most of my time (sometimes up to 10 hours a day!) in the cold van (~4°C), where my microbial samples would not be exposed to the heat and humidity of the Gulf during summer. This meant donning a beanie and jacket despite it being hotter than 80°F outside. Since we also want to do our best to keep the environmental conditions the same as they are in situ, this also meant that the cold van was kept dark to mimic the deep-sea. We took all of these steps, and I spent a lot of time in the cold, dark van, so that we could reduce the impact of experimental set-up on the microbes’ activity levels.

Image 2. The ROV, named the “Global Explorer” (Oceaneering), that was used to sample the basin. Image by Veronica Hegelein.

We spent Fourth of July onboard, which required wearing star-shaped glasses during our daily activities and included a delicious steak and lobster dinner from David, our cruise chef. During my free time, I made T-shirts and organized an awards ceremony for the crew and science team with superlatives written on shrunken Styrofoam cups. When Styrofoam is placed under the extreme pressure of the deep-sea, it shrinks, creating decorated cruise souvenirs ranging from colorful cups to shrunken Styrofoam heads. A little morale-boosting fun goes a long way on a multi-week cruise!

Image 3. Emily Paris with the WOLF NanoCellect Cell Sorter in the cold van (4°C) onboard. Image by Jeff Bowman
Image 4. Shrunken octopus made from a Styrofoam cup and the high pressure of the deep-sea.

I am fortunate that this was not my first cruise. I am part of a deep-sea microbiology lab, so it was assumed (but not guaranteed!) that I would get to go on a cruise at some point during my PhD at Stanford University. In graduate school, I’ve gone on three cruises ranging from one day to two weeks, with a fourth planned for next summer. It’s not something I sought out when applying to my graduate program, but rather something that just came with the task of studying the deep-sea. If people are in labs that do not frequently participate in cruises but want to participate, sometimes cruises will have extra berths available for collaborators to join, so if you are interested in getting on a scientific cruise yourself, you could look for similar opportunities! I have also reached out to collaborators on other cruises asking for them to collect specific samples for me, which is another way to get precious samples that could otherwise take a lot of time and money to collect!

Image 5. OAST graduate students sampling from one of the 21 CTD casts collected from Orca Basin. Image by Jeff Bowman.
Image 6. Graduate students Chad Pozarycki (Georgia Institute of Technology) and Emily Paris (Stanford University) celebrating Fourth of July by preparing to send a CTD cast equipped with “shrunken cup superlatives” overboard while wearing star-shaped, red-white-and-blue glasses. Image by Jeff Bowman

While each scientist onboard had a different project, my goal on this cruise was to understand how compounding environmental stressors impact the efficiency of various microbial metabolisms. This is important for quantifying nutrient cycling and predicting shifts in the face of global environmental change, as well as for planning life detection missions on other planets. We were lucky to have a WOLF NanoCellect cell sorter on the cruise, which allowed me to separate metabolically active from inactive cells at various depths within the brine and preserve their DNA for sequencing. These samples will allow me to explore what adaptations allow a cell to survive as an environment becomes more extreme.

Image 7. The Oceans Across Space and Time field team after twelve long days at sea donning T-shirts made onboard. Left to Right & Front to Back: Jeff Bowman, Emily Paris, Carley Ross, Veronica Hegelein, Ellery Ingall, Andy Mullen, Steffen Buessecker, Jordan McKaig, Cathryn Sephus, Chad Pozarycki, Miguel Desmarais, Clair Elbon, and Matt Meister.

This project was funded by NASA grants 80NSSC18K1301 and 80NSSC22K1409. We would like to thank Britney Schmidt and the entire Oceans Across Space and Time team (field: J. S. Bowman, E. D. Ingall, S. Buessecker, C. Pozarycki, C. Ross, M. Desmarais, C. Elbon, C. Sephus, J. McKaig, M. Meister, A. Mullen, and V. Hegelein) as well as my P.I., Anne E. Dekas (Stanford University) and members of the Dekas Lab. I would also like to thank Mike, Jason, and Nate from Oceaneering, the crew of the R/V Pt Sur, as well as our collaborators at Louisiana State University and the Louisiana Universities Marine Consortium.

Written by Emily R. Paris

Edited by Katie Gallagher, SWMS Communications Lead

Full STEAM Ahead

What one marine sci-artist is doing to inspire careers in science, technology, engineering, art, and maths

Full STEAM Ahead is a blog by SWMS‘ guest author Karen Romano Young

My baseball hat has an embroidered wave on the front. It sits atop a styrofoam wig form that doesn’t know what’s about to hit it. Any day now, it’s headed (ha) for a mesh laundry bag zip- tied to Alvin — and when it comes back, my hat will completely engulf it, not perch atop.

Remotely Operated Vehicle (ROV) Alvin

The cap and wig form sit on the windowsill of a porthole opening out onto the Caribbean Sea. Aboard R/V Atlantis, we’re chugging along the north coast of Jamaica, on a three-day transit from San Juan, Puerto Rico to the Cayman Islands — drawing a line of wake between the deepest points of the Atlantic (the Puerto Rico Trench) and the Caribbean (the Mid-Cayman Trough).

Research Vessel Atlantis – Karen’s home in the Caribbean Sea

On board with me are 50-odd scientists; Alvin engineers, electricians, and pilots; and the Atlantis crew who run the ship and the operations that take us to the deep sea. Deeper, in fact, than ever before, for Alvin, which has just been certified to 6500 meters. Before, it could take humans up to 4500m deep — about 2/3 of the seafloor. With this brand-new certification, we’ve got access to 99 % of the seafloor. My expedition’s job is science verification: making sure that Alvin is able to gather the data — samples, photos, videos, and — so importantly, human observations — that science needs. So what am I doing here?

Telling the stories of Alvin and the people who work with this amazing submersible that has been the vehicle for so many discoveries. In words and pictures. Mostly comics.

I’m serious. I’m part of the team, and comics are part of the outreach, not only telling the plot of of our experiences here, but showcasing the characters involved, in hope of making the field more accessible.

For years, I’ve used my #AntarcticLog comic series to tell stories about scientific research. The biggest thing that I’ve learned during that time is the need in science for more viewpoints — not just the human-occupied vehicle viewpoints provided by Alvin, but the perspectives of people of every gender, background, ability, experience, and gift. There is room for all — and, especially in deep-sea science, so much to learn about our world and other ocean worlds in our solar system and beyond. And it’s evident that kids adore the ocean, its vehicles and its biodiversity. How do we get them from there to… here?

My answer — in progress, in proof of concept — is I Was A Kid. My new project has the goal of helping kids 8 to 18 see their way into science, technology, engineering, arts, and math fields like this one. Through sharing multimedia profiles of people already in those fields who represent a cross-section of skillsets, I Was A Kid routes the variety of pathways — bumps, obstructions, dead ends and all — that got them where they are, using comics, graphics, photos, and text.


Find out more at IWasAKid.com, and follow at @iwasakidSTEAM.

Celebrate LGBTQ+ Pride with SWMS and Erin Jones

Erin Jones stands on the deck of a research vessel with the sea and sunset behind her

Join us as we celebrate LGBTQ+ pride!

We love how many perspectives our members can offer. We think that’s one of our strengths as a community that we offer t o marine science! Acknowledging and celebrating your individual experiences and identities is a really important way we can support you.

This is work we do year round, but in honor of Pride History Month we ‘sat down,’ from various corners of the planet, with Erin Jones (she/her). Erin is a PhD student of biological oceanography at GSO with Tatiana Rynearson. Below you will learn about her intersecting identities and the valuable science she is conducting!

Introduce Yourself!

I am a queer marine scientist in the 3rd year of my PhD at GSO in the Rynearson Lab studying the role of microzooplankton community structure and diversity in carbon export pathways.

Erin is smiling at the camera and wears a dark blue sweatshirt as she poses for her headshot.
Erin Jones, GSO URI (2019)

In particular, I am interested in how shifts in diversity of heterotrophic and mixotrophic protists influence grazing patterns through the water column. My research is part of the NASA EXPORTS project, for which I recently returned from a month-long cruise to the Porcupine Abyssal Plain in the North Atlantic Ocean aboard the RRS James Cook.

a person kneels in the foreground working with a hose. plastic boxes on wooden pallets are arranged behind on a ship's deck. The person is working on the set up.
Erin hooking up the plumbing for microzooplankton grazing experiment incubations. NASA EXPORTS Cruise May 2021, North Atlantic Ocean, RRS James Cook. 

EXPORTS, which stands for Export Processes in the Ocean from Remote Sensing, is a NASA-funded project that aims to develop a predictive understanding of the ocean’s carbon cycle.

How has your identity shaped your experience as a woman marine scientist?

Being a queer woman in marine science, I have thought a lot about how much representation matters to aspiring scientists. I wasn’t aware of any LGBTQ+ people growing up, let alone any in STEM.

Four individuals stand on the back deck of a research vessel facing the camera. They are wearing bright red lifejackets and face masks. The sun is setting over the sea behind.
 (From left to right) Erin Jones, Mikayla Cote, Dr. Pierre Marrec, Victoria Fulfer; aboard the R/V Endeavor for the NES-LTER Project, Fall 2020.

Without seeing your identity reflected in others, you are left to forge your own path; sink or swim.

A selfie of Erin as she stand next to a railing on the research vessel. She is wearing a white hard hat, red lifejacket, glasses, and a grey face mask
 Erin aboard the R/V Endeavor for the NES-LTER Project, Fall 2020

Being queer has shaped how I approach and participate in the marine science community, such as who I talk to, how I act at conferences, and whether I am “out” on research cruises. Broadly speaking, like many others I’ve had to learn to navigate the cisgender heteronormative patriarchy that exists at the core of the scientific community.

Despite the challenges I have faced along the way, I wouldn’t change who I am or the job I have; I’m queer and I’m a marine scientist.

How have you overcome the challenges posed by being a member of the LGBTQ+ community?

Challenges posed by being queer have been variable, but over time I’ve built up a network of allies, LGBTQ+ friends and colleagues, discovered more resources for being a queer woman in STEM (500 Queer Scientists), and continued to educate myself so that I can be a better mentor to other aspiring queer scientists and make it easier for them to find their way into the scientific community (Safe Zone Trainings).

Three people play cards in a lounge area. a small circular wooden table separates them. They are smiling.
(From left to right) Rynearson lab-mates Dr. Laura Holland, Diana Fontaine, and Erin Jones playing a game of Euchre during the EXPORTS cruise. NASA EXPORTS Cruise May 2021, North Atlantic Ocean, RRS James Cook.

Though the world continues to become more accepting of LGBTQ+ people, there is work to be done to make STEM more welcoming and supportive of queer identities. LGBTQ+ representation in schools, labs and at conferences has been vital for my development as a marine scientist.

I hope my queer visibility in the marine science shows other budding LGTBQ+ scientists that they are not alone, and they can be as much a part of the scientific community as anyone else.

Two individuals look away from the camera. One is seated on the left on the deck of a research vessel. The other stands leaning on the railing. The background is filled with a port.
Erin Jones (left) and Diana Fontaine (right) on the bow of the RRS James Cook as the ship returns to port in Southampton, UK. NASA EXPORTS Cruise May 2021, North Atlantic Ocean, RRS James Cook.

How have your support community and professional community overlapped?

Since joining GSO, my support community and professional community have overlapped substantially. My queer identity was not as visible in the past when I attempted to keep my queerness out of the lab.

Having an openly lesbian advisor has changed how I participate in the scientific community. By breaking out of the workplace “closet” I have become a better scientist, more engaged with my community and built stronger connections and supportive relationships with my lab and fellow students.

Four individuals stand turning their heads to look at the camera over their shoulders. They are in a busy lab working on the counter. Scientific equipment surrounds them.
Rynearson/Menden-Deuer Grazing Team (From left to right) Dr. Laura Holland, Dr. Heather McNair, Erin Jones, and Diana Fontaine collecting samples from microzooplankton grazing experiments. NASA EXPORTS Cruise May 2021, North Atlantic Ocean, RRS James Cook. 

What else would you like people to know about you?!

  • I hail from Bainbridge Island, Washington, where I grew up surrounded by the marine environment of the Puget Sound. Unsurprisingly, this is where my curiosity for marine life kindled.

  • I attended Mount Holyoke College, a historically women’s college in western Massachusetts where I studied biology and marine science. At Mount Holyoke, I flourished as a queer woman in STEM, surrounded by a fiercely supportive community of students and professors.

  • Aside from marine science, I love spending my time cooking, biking, throwing pottery, and gardening.

Top Left: The crew and science party of the RRS James Cook celebrate Erin’s birthday during the EXPORTS cruise. NASA EXPORTS Cruise May 2021, North Atlantic Ocean, RRS James Cook. 
Top Right: Erin Jones and Diana Fontaine on the RRS James Cook watching the sunrise over the North Atlantic ocean during EXPORTS. NASA EXPORTS Cruise May 2021, North Atlantic Ocean, RRS James Cook. 
Bottom Left: Erin Jones on deck of RRS James Cook waiting for sunrise. NASA EXPORTS Cruise May 2021, North Atlantic Ocean, RRS James Cook. 
Bottom Middle: Erin Jones pictured with her girlfriend Lindsey after cooking Thanksgiving dinner 2020.
Bottom Right: Erin Jones admiring the Kinney Azalea Gardens, Kingston, RI  in Spring 2020.


If you are a woman in marine science and a member of the LGBTQ+ community, we’d love to hear from you! Please join us on social media June 24th 2021 as we celebrate LGBTQ+ pride and share your voice! Or pitch us a blog like Erin’s – you can find details here.

Introducing Ireland SWMS

Introducing Ireland SWMS! Our branch was born from a need to connect marine scientists in The Republic of Ireland, of all levels and backgrounds and create a progressive space to discuss important issues. As an island nation, we rely heavily on the marine industries. By creating an engaged networking community, we hope to support the marine science industry and bolster the success of female scientists. Though we’re starting small, with the help of all SWMS supporters, we expect to grow and connect scientists across the nation. Here are our co-founders sharing their unique experiences in the field.

Introducing Niamh: My name is Niamh Meyler, co-founder of the Irish chapter of SWMS.

Growing up near the Irish Sea, I had a love of the beach and of nature. When I was introduced by chance to the field of marine zoology, I knew I had found my dream career path that combined my passion and curiosity for animals, the ocean and discovery.

With Zoology as my chosen field of study, I enrolled in the National University of Ireland where I got my bachelor’s degree and solidified my interest in cnidarian ecology. After graduation, I worked as a Groundfish Observer where I trained at the NOAA/NMFS facility in Seattle and was assigned to different boats in Alaska to collect catch data.I continued my studies and I am currently doing an MSc. Marine Biology with Stockholm University with a focus on tropical coral disease epidemiology.

Introducing Aisha: Hello! My name is Aisha O’Connor, co-founder of the Irish chapter of SWMS.

It was during my transition year in secondary school when I first realised my passion for marine science. A late comer compared to some, but having not grown up by the sea and with nobody else in my family with a strong interest in the marine realm, it took the discovery of the Galapagos Islands through a geography project to ignite the marine fire inside of me. 

From there, I went on to complete a BSc in Marine Science at the National University of Ireland Galway (NUIG) where I met Niamh, and continued my journey of discoveries when I was introduced to the wonderful world of seaweeds! And so flourished my passion for all things macroalgal-related. Since then I’ve had a bursary in the Aquaculture sector of the Marine Institute, Galway, worked as a research assistant in Alabama, US and Germany. Recently, I graduated with a MSc in Biology from the University of Alabama at Birmingham. I feel connected to the marine environment by more than an academic thread, I love to swim and snorkel in the sea and even SCUBA dive! Peering directly into a marine ecosystem keeps my passion burning. 

Throughout my studies to date, I did not experience much encouragement to pursue a career in marine science. Simultaneously, resources detailing the opportunities and possibilities that would open up with a degree in Marine Science were few and far between. That being said, Niamh and I are striving to change the narrative through our innovative work with Ireland SWMS. 

Our goals: We hope that Ireland SWMS will be successful in our pursuit to promote the visibility of women in marine science and help people connect with the experience of minorities in the field. Ireland SWMS dedicates itself to 

  1. provide support to young marine scientists in pursuing a marine career/studies and for networking
  2. provide resources to find marine-related internships and jobs in Ireland
  3. share knowledge from previous experiences in academia/industry/volunteering positions/etc.

We hope those who share the goals of this open and inclusive society feel empowered to join us. Together we can act to make the marine sector in Ireland a diverse and dynamic community to be part of. 

Niamh on the left and Aisha on the right chat on a Zoom call.

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Book Review: The Breath of a Whale

By Jenny Howard

The first time I saw a whale, it was a sunny summer day off the coast of Gloucester, Massachusetts — the whale spotting capital of New England. Rocking gently with the boat, my eyes glued to binoculars, it took a long minute before I was confident the spray I saw was, in fact, a whale’s spout. When a whale breached a few minutes later, the other tourists on the whale-watching tour buzzed with excitement, and the tour operators exuded a palpable relief.

The naturalist Leigh Calvez also saw her first humpback whale off the coast of Gloucester, and adroitly captures the admiration and curiosity these giants can provoke in her new book, The Breath of a WhalePart scientific exploration and part emotional narrative, Calvez weaves scientific research with her own personal journey from her days as a naturalist and science writer.

The tail of a whale appears out of the distance from the water.

The book focuses on six species of whales — humpback whales, blue whales, gray whales, beaked whales, false killer whales, and orcas. She explores the habits and history of each species, including their complicated relationship with humans. Gray whales, as Calvez explains, were completely eliminated from the east coast, and nearly exterminated in the Pacific. Although commercial killing of whales was officially halted by the majority of countries in 1982, the practice continues—Norway and Iceland continue to allow commercial whaling, and Japan catches whales under the guise of scientific whaling. Indigenous communities in four countries, including the United States, also still hunt whales to support their families. (This type of subsistence whaling maintains indigenous cultures but specifies a catch limit, updated every six years, by the International Whaling Commission.)

But if you want to read a hard-hitting book about past and current whaling, this isn’t it. Breath of a Whale barely skirts these topics. Instead, Calvez explores newer cetacean research and our evolving human connection with them. For example, she describes research on low-frequency active (LFA) sonar tests, which disturb wintering humpback whales off the coast of Hawaii. Calvez, then a young scientist monitoring whales, recalls noticing a distressed calf, separated from its mother by underwater noise pollution during military sonar tests. The mother-calf bond is critical, and Calvez observed a total disruption in normal behavior because of the sonar tests. She reported it, but her observations were dismissed. Her feeling of helplessness ultimately led her away from science. (Further studies since then have confirmed that the US Navy’s sonar can cause whale deaths, and otherwise disrupt whale behavior.)

Throughout the book, Calvez has keen descriptions of whales’ advanced social behavior. Free Willy-fame aside, the importance of the family pod in a whale’s life is difficult to overstate. Orcas in particular have strong familial ties, living in groups with their mothers and sisters. Orca social structures are complex, with some populations remaining in a small area—known as “residents”—and some migrating. This complicates research and conservation efforts. Off the coast of British Columbia in the Salish Sea, for instance, Calvez describes how the southern resident population is in decline, with no births for over three years, while the transient population has actually increased. That’s in part because the southern residents’ preferred food, Chinook salmon, has declined drastically. The human impacts, like industrial dumping, runoff, and leaching chemicals into the ocean, also contribute to the problem. (In fact, half of the world’s orcas could disappear because of pollution.)

Some of the most striking sections in the book stem from Calvez’ remarkable ability to humanize scientific research itself. Scientists attempting to study whales can spend days, months, and even years without catching a glimpse of their study species. Remarkably difficult to study, a single whale can travel thousands of miles a year, and spend a large portion of their time under water.  As a researcher studying how seabirds find food, I can appreciate the huge challenges these whale researchers face. I can walk up to a nest, pick up a bird, and attach a GPS in less than 10 minutes. Whales surface to breathe for sometimes only seconds, so scientists have to be poised and ready to attach a GPS to a whale’s back with a giant suction cup at a moment’s notice. Calvez explains how new techniques—like using GPS satellite loggers—are now helping scientists better understand whale movements, and recording the incredibly deep depths of their dives.

Though she does a good job explaining the nuts and bolts of cetacean research, equally interesting are the scenes where Calvez shows the connection between whale and human emotions. Just like elephants suffer from PTSD, Calvez argues that whales also experience distress and depression after traumatic events. Since gray whales can live as long as 70 years, she muses that gray whale calves born during the 1960s—when over 300 gray whales were killed off California—could still be alive and swimming with the trauma of those hunts. (Researchers now believe that Tilikum, the infamous Sea World orca that killed his trainer, exhibited symptoms of PTSD.)

A close up photo of a sperm whale emerging from the water.
JORGE VASCONEZ

Calvez, in fact, twines her own life story around that of Springer, an orphaned orca calf who appeared in the Puget Sound in early 2002. Springer became separated from her pod after her mother died in late 2001. (NOAA orchestrated an attempt to reunite the struggling calf with her family in summer 2002—a complicated operation that was ultimately a success.) Like Springer’s community came together to care for this orphan, Calvez chronicles how her own community cared for her when she fell into a coma on the very same day that an oil spill poisoned the Puget Sound in 2004.

Breath of a Whale isn’t trying to be comprehensive—and I found myself wanting more information, not only on the whale species she introduces, but also on the ones she doesn’t. Right whales, for example, a species of the North Atlantic that produced no offspring in 2017, didn’t even get a mention. As a scientist, the human tendency to anthropomorphize animals is discouraged, and Calvez’ passion for whales sometimes distracts from the important science she recounts. Trained to ask questions, I double-checked Calvez’s sources as I read the book—but the facts she divulges and the scientific papers she summarizes are all accurate, leaving me eager to learn more.

Even for a skeptic like me, the book’s main success is connecting Calvez’ audience to a magnificent creature that so many of us rarely, if ever, see.

This story originally appeared on Massive Science, an editorial partner site that publishes science stories written by scientists. Subscribe to their newsletter for even more science delivered straight to you.

Introducing the Monterey Bay SWMS Chapter!

By Bonnie Brown, Monterey Bay SWMS

Monterey Bay is a unique location found on the central coast of California. This area is known for its abundant marine life and diverse habitats. Just a short boat ride out from the shallow and murky Elkhorn Slough and you’ll find yourself at the head of the Monterey Bay Submarine Canyon. The rich kelp forests are filled with all sorts of creatures and make for world-renowned dive sites. Not only is Monterey Bay a hotspot for marine life, but it is also a hub for numerous marine science institutions. As a graduate student at Moss Landing Marine Labs (MLML), I am very fortunate to live in such an extraordinary place.

sunset over water and a marsh
Sunset overlooking Monterey Bay from MLML (photo by Kim Elson)

Students that enter the MLML program work towards a Masters of Science in Marine Science, focusing on a variety of biological and oceanographic disciplines. Once upon a time, MLML was a male-dominated school. The student body was comprised of around 80% men. Now, women represent that 80%, yet the faculty is only 20% female. When an e-mail popped into our inbox about the Society for Women in Marine Science (SWMS), several of us MLML students were excited to create a chapter for the Monterey Bay area. Specifically, we wanted to address the obstacles and stereotypes that female scientists face.

a group of women stand together, in front of a picture of a beach
Monterey Bay SWMS Planning Committee (photo by Maria Vila Dupla)

The Monterey Bay SWMS Chapter would like to create a welcoming community where everyone can work together to increase visibility of women and other under-represented groups in marine science. Our mission is to facilitate outreach to local schools, promote opportunities for mentorship, and to acknowledge and address the challenges women face in marine science.

Thinking back to my younger years, I wish that I had a mentor in the marine science field to help guide me. Wouldn’t it have been nice if I had the resources readily available to pursue marine science starting at an early age? Providing that type of mentorship to local students, and creating networking opportunities to early career scientists are extremely valuable components that I look forward to see flourish with the Monterey Bay SWMS Chapter.