"Here comes the….rain?" by Alex McInturf - 12th January 2016

“My jacket is wet.” “My SHOES are wet!” “It is well and truly coming down out there.”

 These three phrases almost completely summarize my first week at the Bimini Shark Lab. Words without context, however, can be misleading. I’m surrounded by the usual morning bustle that characterizes rainy days here at the station – there are volunteers half-clad in wetsuits, prepared to depart at any moment, staff members staring at radars to determine when there will be a break in the weather, and a few pitbulls wrestling over a chew toy in the hallway. It has been ten days since my arrival, and I have yet to have an “off day.” Weekends truly don’t exist here; in fact, I can barely keep track of the time, much less the day, and dates only have meaning at the top of our data sheets. I arrived at the lab with the onset of the New Year with three new volunteers, just in time to work tirelessly with the rest of the crew (10 staff members, and 6 veteran volunteers) on a project that will provide critical data on the shark species that populate these waters.

 A few years ago, the lab deployed fifty acoustic receivers that collectively cover every marine area around both North and South Bimini. Twice a year since their initial establishment, they have been collected and then, following a massive data download, redeployed.  This is certainly no easy feat – each receiver cost roughly $1,300, and recollecting the installed units requires dropping a diver directly on top of the receiver’s exact coordinates. Then, of course, said diver must cope with factors entirely out of his or her control: visibility, current, or, as is the case today, unpredicted bouts of torrential downpour. Ideally the entire process takes place within 48 hours, but dark clouds rolled in during the early hours of this morning. Make no mistake, however, consideration for our personal comfort is not the cause for delay. In fact, I would argue that in addition to a collective passion for elasmobranchs, one of the major common characteristics embodied by every single person at this lab is a mildly insane willingness to sacrifice almost everything for the pursuit of knowledge. On the other hand, as researchers, we are nothing if not practical. We won’t be able to find the receivers in this weather.

Unfortunately, this research obstacle is fairly typical for this time of year. The cold fronts that hit the United States during the winter inevitably reach even the Bahamian islands, though they manifest themselves in slightly different ways. We fall victim to the weather’s capriciousness; already I’ve experienced the warmth of the sun on my back as we cruised across turquoise patches of water, only to don a sweatshirt in the overcast chill of the next morning. However, I have learned that these types of challenges unexpectedly bring out the very enthusiasm that defines the members of the Shark Lab. Our shoes may be wet, our jackets soaked, and our receivers left alone for the time being, but as we gradually disperse to find more weather-appropriate tasks, laughter and friendly chatter echo through our tiny home.