Life After MLML: News from the tropics

By: Michelle Marraffini

Invertebrate Zoology and Molecular Ecology

After graduating from MLML, former students go on to do great research at their new jobs or in Phd programs.   One of these former students is Paul Tompkins of the phycology lab, who took a phd position at Leibniz Center for Tropical Marine Ecology (ZMT) in Bremen, Germany.   Paul is conducting research the Charles Darwin Research Station in the Galapagos.  Beyond the famous finches and the oldest tortoises, the Galapagos also boasts an impressive marine system protected by their national park.   As part of a larger, ongoing project Paul is studying the role of algae in the food web and the response to climate change including El Nino events.

Spotted rose snapper (Lutjanus guttatus) and other Galapagos reef fish during a dive at Punta Nunez
Photo by: David Acuna

While collecting preliminary data of the system, using underwater transects and estimates of percent cover, a diver (David Acuna) helping Paul monitor Punta Nunez came across a fish species he did not recognize.  The possible identity of this fish is the species Lutjanus guttatus, Spotted rose snapper, which was cited for the first time in the Galapagos from catch data in Puerto Villamil in pervious years.  If the identity of this mystery fish is confirmed it would be a new record of the species and help scientists monitor populations of fish in the area.  It just goes to show that you always have to keep your eyes open for new discoveries.

A close up shot of the spotted rose snapper. Photo by: David Acuna (Charles Darwin Foundation)

Life After MLML: Research from the Galapagos

Research cruise, Queen Mabel, with a view
Photo by: Paul Tompkins

By: Paul Tompkins

MLML Phycology Lab

PhD Candidate
Leibniz Center for Tropical Marine Ecology (ZMT)

After my master’s thesis was accepted in the fall of 2011, I began applying for PhD positions.  I was accepted at the University of Bremen’s Center for Tropical Marine Ecology.  My current advisor, Dr. Matthias Wolff, leads the resource management working group within the department of ecological modelling.  He has spent many years studying the highly productive waters along the Pacific Coast of South America, and is currently leading a project in the Galapagos archipelago.  The goal of this work is to understand how upwelling influences the tropic structure of the islands, and to use this understanding to inform fisheries management in the face of climate variability.   My role in this project is to describe the biogeography of macroalgae around the Galapagos archipelago, and determine the functional role of these primary producers in the Galapagos marine tropic web.  Of particular interest is the influence of upwelling on algal species distributions, community structure, and productivity.

View from my desk at BioMar
Photo by: Paul Tompkins

I have now been in living in Puerto Ayora for two months.  During my first week here, I was living on the R/V Queen Mabel, with collaborators both from ZMT and the Charles Darwin Foundation (CDF), and surveying the Islands of Darwin, Wolf, Pinta, and the East coast of Isabella. To estimate the percent coverage of macroalgae, I used sampling protocols were similar to those used by the CDF’s ecological monitoring project.  At each site, a 50 meter transect was laid parallel to the shoreline at depths of 15 and 6 meters. Every five meters along transects, a 0.25m2 gridded quadrat with 80 intersection points was placed on the seafloor, and the primary substrate was recorded.

That Doesn’t Look Like It Belongs in the Monterey Bay Aquarium…

(photo: Z. Kaufman)

That’s no sheephead!  It’s phycology student Paul Tompkins diving in the Monterey Bay Aquarium kelp forest tank.  Paul is keeping an eye on his lab-mates, who are surveying the algae in the tank for the Aquarium.  Stayed tuned in for an upcoming post by Brynn Hooton that will include a video from this dive.

One Day While Surfing… A White Shark Encounter

Paul catches a shark-free wave.

by Paul Tompkins, Phycology Lab

The gulls first caught my attention, a small flock in a tight swarm above the waves just beyond my surfboard. Others floated on the surface below.  Suddenly the sea below them erupted, and the birds on the surface took flight.  A frothy pink spray of water shot into the air; there was blood in the water. As the water calmed the gulls swooped and dove, feeding. A few seconds later the scene repeated itself, another violent splash of bloody water.  My instincts were screaming, telling me turn and paddle in, to get out of the water.

My curiosity got the better of me, and I sat transfixed as something was being ripped to pieces only a few hundred yards away.  Other gulls were making a beeline to join in the feast, and the flock grew.  I watched the attack for another minute, until at last a large black fin broke the horizon and my suspicions were confirmed.  This was no sea lion or orca, but a large white shark, eating lunch.

I swung towards the beach, catching my last wave on the way in.  As I crested the dunes to get a better vantage, I saw the shark hit twice more. I ran to the parking lot to grab my binoculars.  By the time I looked back to sea, the gulls had stopped flying, all were swimming on the surface. I peered through the lenses for a few more minutes, but the attack had ended.  I walked back down to my car, relieved that I had been a witness to a raw display of nature’s brutality, rather than an unwilling participant.