|
iving
underwater in the Aquarius habitat saturates you--literally and
figuratively--in the marine environment. Moored to the ocean floor
four miles off the coast of Key Largo, Florida, forty-seven feet
down, the Aquarius is the world's only underwater research facility.
The scientists who live there, "aquanauts," acclimate
their bodies to its fixed depth in what is known as "saturation
diving," in which their tissues become saturated with dissolved
gas. Once a diver is saturated, decompression--the time required
to bring the diver back to surface pressure without inflicting the
bends--is the same, regardless of the time spent underwater. As
a result, Aquarius aquanauts can work underwater nearly nine hours
a day.
Pamela Cox Jutte '93 was an Aquarius aquanaut last summer, taking
part in a ten-day mission to study the ecology, behavior, and visual
systems of stomatopod crustaceans--commonly known as mantis shrimp.
Jutte, a research scientist with the South Carolina Department of
Natural Resources, became involved with the project through colleagues
in California. After earning her bachelor of science degree in biology
at Duke, she completed a Ph.D. in 1997 at the University of California
at Berkeley. Her dissertation research focused on the ecology, behavior,
and visual systems of a type of mantis shrimp.
Roy Caldwell, Jutte's former adviser at Berkeley, is a world-renowned
mantis shrimp expert. When he received funding to use the Aquarius
habitat to research mantis shrimp, he approached Jutte to see if
she was interested in collaborating. Although currently studying
the environmental effects of human activities on marine invertebrates,
she jumped at the chance for an Aquarius mission and to study mantis
shrimp again. Scuba-certified since 1991, she frequently dives for
her current research.
The Aquarius mission would look at several aspects of mantis shrimp
biology. Jutte's fellow aquanauts included Mark Erdmann '92, the
Marine Protected Areas adviser for the U.S. Agency for International
Development's Natural Resource Management Project in Bunaken National
Marine Park in north Sulawesi; Helen Fox, a graduate student at
the University of California at Berkeley, studying coral regrowth
after dynamite fishing; Alex Cheroske, a graduate student at the
University of Maryland, Baltimore County, researching mantis shrimp
vision; and Mike Hutchens and James Talacek, dive specialists with
the National Undersea Research Center, who maintained and operated
the Aquarius habitat during the mission. The surface team included
Caldwell, the principal in-vestigator for the mission; Tom Cronin
Ph.D. '79, a professor at the University of Maryland, Baltimore
County; Karla Heidelberg, a research associate with the University
of Maryland, College Park; and Nerina Holden, a strategic planning
manager with the Scottish Environment Protection Agency.
The aquanauts and most of the surface team arrived in Key Largo
about a week before the mission. Aquarius aquanauts are required
to have logged at least 100 dives before they are eligible to descend
to the lab, but because of the risks involved with saturation diving,
intensive training is required for even these experienced divers.
In normal diving, divers can return to the surface during an emergency.
But surfacing is the main risk to saturated divers, since rapid
ascension can cause a life-threatening case of the bends. Aquarius
training involves five days of lectures on saturation diving techniques,
safety, and habitat operation.
 |
| Sea life: aquanauts
Jutte and her colleagues experience the wet world of crustacean
research, sometimes as deep as 110 feet, from their "space
capsule" habitat |
| photos:courtesy
University of Wisconsin-Madison |
|
 |
Two dives were completed each day near Aquarius, in part to familiarize
divers with the nonstandard diving gear, safety drills, and to tour
the habitat. Its quarters are tight, but include six bunks, a full
bathroom, a galley, and viewing portals. Much of the space is taken
up with laboratory equipment--video monitors, computers, and microscopes.
Communications are sent by wireless telemetry to a surface buoy,
then beamed to shore. Large canisters of oxygen and nitrogen provide
the capsule's air, mixed at the same ratio as surface air.
After additional dives over the weekend to establish study sites,
the aquanauts were ready to live underwater. Besides recording her
scientific findings during the mission, Jutte kept a journal of
her ten days beneath the waves, capturing her impressions of undersea
life and the rewards and challenges of her research.
Day 1--July 16, 2001
This morning we hurry up and wait for our departure for the lab.
When the time finally arrives, we aquanauts board the boat for a
thirty-minute trip out to the Aquarius mooring site. It's hard to
believe I won't be seeing the sun for the next ten days. We arrive
above the Aquarius around 11:30. In addition to normal wetsuits,
masks, and fins, our bulky aquanaut gear includes double tanks,
a safety reel, a backup safety reel, a radio in a waterproof housing,
and a pouch filled with a light, strobe, map, and various other
safety gear. During our last minutes on the surface, my buddy Alex
and I check each other's gear to confirm that no air is leaking
from our scuba apparatus, and that there are no other equipment
problems. We then descend to sixty-five feet, and begin our Aquarius
mission.
We get right to work in the sandy areas surrounding the habitat,
seeking two types of mantis shrimp, Nannosquilla and Bigelowena.
We also spend part of our time examining the exterior of Aquarius.
The habitat looks something like a space capsule. The actual living
quarters are a long, school-bus-sized yellow cylinder perched about
twenty feet above the seafloor on four sturdy legs. Periodically,
as air is refreshed inside the habitat, a huge surge of bubbles
escapes through the moon pool (an opening in the floor of the wet
porch--our entrance to the ocean). On one side of the habitat, on
the level of the living quarters, there is a white hexagonal structure
called a gazebo. The gazebo is constantly replenished with air and
serves as the location where aquanauts can meet and discuss research
without entering the habitat. The gazebo has a separate air supply--should
there be a problem with the habitat, we would escape to the gazebo
and await rescue.
The habitat's sides are encrusted with all sorts of marine organisms,
and a variety of fish use this as their permanent dinner buffet.
There is also an omnipresent school of small, silvery baitfish.
When you leave the wet porch to begin a dive, the school is so dense
that you are enveloped in a cloud of pulsing silver. These fish
also provide our entertainment at meal time--through the dining-room
porthole, we see these bait schools being slowly depleted by the
resident snook, barracuda, and grouper.
After spending about two hours in the water, Alex and I return
to the habitat with the specimens we had collected. We take a few
minutes to unpack. Each aquanaut's bunk has a small storage bin
for clothes and toiletries. Each bunk is a little over six feet
in length and about three feet wide. There are fresh sheets, a blanket,
and a pillow on each bunk. I'm in one of the top bunks--with a little
luck, I won't roll out of my bunk during the mission. Mark barely
fits into his bunk, so I figure I could have it worse.
We complete another two-hour dive in the afternoon, mapping densities
of stomatopods in areas near the habitat. Over dinner, we discuss
the day's achievements, and develop our dive plan for the following
day.
 |
| Aquanauts experience
a wet world |
| photos:courtesy
University of Wisconsin-Madison |
|
 |
Day 2--July 17, 2001
Alex and I start our day testing a piece of equipment called a
polarimeter, which measures polarized light in the waters surrounding
Aquarius. This will give us a good idea of the type of light experienced
by mantis shrimp living in the area. Tom Cronin has fine-tuned this
equipment and the software it uses. Alex stays inside and runs the
computer. I take the polarimeter on the deck outside the habitat
and dive by myself using the "hookah" system, a breathing
line tethered to the habitat. In normal diving, your buddy is your
backup air supply should a problem occur. In hookah diving, a scuba
tank on your back functions as your backup air supply. Through a
combination of flashing-light signals on the polarimeter and quick
swims to look inside the habitat through a porthole where Alex is
working on the computer, we are able to work out all the bugs.
Alex and I return to the sandy bottom to complete transects around
the habitat. We measure out fifty-meter transect lines on the seafloor
and move along the line, centimeter by centimeter, counting and
identifying the mantis shrimp burrows. We want to collect at least
five transects at this location, and five at deeper sites to determine
if there are differences in densities and species diversity with
depth. Following the completion of these transects, we search for
the burrow of a Lysiosquilla, a very large mantis shrimp that can
grow to more than a foot long. These lie-in-wait predators belong
to the "spearer" group of stomatopods, having front appendages
with large spines that are used to impale fish and other prey.
We find several large burrows, and set up an underwater video
camera with infrared lights above one of the burrows. Various cables
are strung back to the habitat, and we are able to watch the large
male Lysiosquilla twenty-four hours a day as he hunts for food for
his mate, who is hidden beneath the sand. We hope to record his
behavior for at least a day and then capture and remove the male.
These animals form monogamous pairs, and you would normally never
see a female; however, Roy Caldwell's previous work has shown that
once the male is removed, the female often gets a new mate. By videotaping
the animal, we can get a better understanding of how the female
may let other males know she is available.
Upon returning to the habitat, I take a quick shower. The shower
onboard the Aquarius is located in the wet porch, where you enter
from the ocean. The tiny shower stall is separated from the rest
of the room by a curtain and has hot and cold water. The water is
stored in tanks outside the habitat and must be delivered from the
shore, so we are encouraged to take very quick "navy"
showers. On the first day, we were all given a chamois to get rid
of most of the water, and a single towel for any additional drying.
During dinner, we work on our dive plan for the following day.
Mark and Helen have begun marking individual Odontodactylus burrows
and are learning that many of these animals seem to have multiple
burrows. After dinner, I head back out on the hookah at "storage
depth" to hunt for stomatopod larvae. Since we are living at
forty-seven feet during this mission, any dives that do not go deeper
than that are considered "storage depth," and do not count
as an official dive. I ask the habitat technicians, Hutch and James,
to turn off the exterior lights around the habitat. Using small
dive lights that attract various larvae, I can look into the surrounding
waters for the distinctive stomatopod larvae. I don't find stomatopods
but see all sorts of amazing larval critters floating in the water.
When I turn my light toward the bottom, large stingrays, almost
four feet across, can be seen swimming by. When I turn my dive light
off, the surrounding water is filled with a beautiful bioluminescence.
continues on
page two.
|