What do you picture when you think of the California coast? Perhaps it’s the redwood-covered bluffs that plummet down to crashing waves, or the forests of kelp swaying along with the current. But the one thing that might not have come to mind has a surprising presence at UC Davis’ Bodega Marine Laboratory (BML): corals.
New research from the University of California, Davis, the Chinese Academy of Sciences and Texas A&M University reveals that massive emissions, or burps, of carbon dioxide from natural earth systems led to significant decreases in ocean oxygen concentrations some 300 million years ago.
At the Bodega Marine Laboratory, science leapt beyond the lab bench in a surprising collaboration—part fashion show, part modern dance, part film screening—where artistic expression met ecological research on the Sonoma Coast.
For some, the ocean is a scenic backdrop—an inviting place for relaxation or an awe-inspiring force of nature. For Mona Hansche, it’s the soundtrack of her life; and Bodega Bay is the chorus—the part that always returns, anchoring the melody of her experiences.
After a summer of tide pooling and hands-on marine research at Bodega Marine Laboratory, UC Davis undergrads Makayla Peixoto and Jessica Bartolome returned to campus as peer advisors, helping future students discover their own path to the coast.
What does it mean to learn marine science by doing? For students in the inaugural Fall Quarter at Bodega Marine Laboratory (BML), it meant using a clam gun to reveal burrowing invertebrates in the mudflats, tagging coho salmon to help monitor wild fish populations, and practicing the slow, stealthy skill of catching sculpin with bare hands.
As an assistant diving and boating safety officer for UC Davis based at Bodega Marine Laboratory, Dias works with UC Davis researchers to coordinate and provide guidance for critical fieldwork that’s helping us understand the health of our oceans and waterways, and in turn, our global climate.
The McMurdo Dry Valleys don’t look like they belong in Antarctica. Largely devoid of snow, the landscape is mostly dirt and rock. When explorer Robert Falcon Scott trekked the area in 1903, he referred to it as “the valley of the dead.”
Beneath the water, weightlessness envelops the body and sounds are amplified. The hiss of the regulator chimes like a metronome, mixing with the natural soundscape produced by ocean creatures and processes: the crunch from fish as they nibble on coral reefs and the crash of the waves above.
Tiny fragments of DNA permeate the air, soil, and water around us. This environmental DNA (eDNA) unlocks a non-invasive way to monitor biodiversity and detect species that might otherwise go unnoticed.
