Change of Plans

Last night was literally my "last night" in DC for about 3 months. My stuff is in storage, my car is packed up, my desk at work is cleared off, and I'm ready to hit the road down to Florida after work today. So what happens? I get a call last night from Dr. Gruber, the operator of the field station in Bimini, letting me know that a space opened up on a week-long research cruise on the R/V Tiburon to the Marquesas Keys (the ones 30 miles west of Key West, Florida, not the ones in the South Pacific), in case I'd like to join the cruise. "We'll be tagging lemon sharks in the lagoon and could use a hand," he says. Uh....yes, please.

So instead of flying to Bimini on the 15th, I'll be doing this cruise first during the 3rd week of August, and then I'll be heading to Bimini sometime in the last week in August. Boo hoo, right?

This is so amazing - what an opportunity. I can't wait to jump in (literally)!

(PS - This change is plans is excellent for fantasy baseball purposes. I now have an extra week of guaranteed internet access to continue on my quest of league domination. PPP, print out the standings as a memento now, buddy. Your days are numbered.)

(PPS - I borrowed this lemon shark picture from the BBFS website.)

Security Threat

I discovered this past weekend that all of my earthly possessions fit into a 10' x 10' storage space, and to get them there, I put them in a 15' rental truck. Thinking I was so smart for remembering that no trucks are allowed on the Rock Creek Parkway, which I would normally take to get to the storage facility, I decided to take an alternate route downtown. It seemed like a good idea at the time...

I was truckin' along fine (literally), until I got to 17th and H, at which point I was promptly pulled over. And so it hit me - in my zeal to avoid the Parkway due to the no-truck rule, I neglected to realize that the alternate route down 17th to Constitution brought me within a block of the White House.

Apparently they don't take kindly to unauthorized box trucks approaching the President's diggs these days. Within seconds, two more officers descended upon the scene. Not only did I not remember that no trucks were allowed within a few block radius of the White House, but I also obliviously blew through two blocks worth of "No Trucks" signs.

They made me open up the back, and I had to suppress a giggle when the officers took a few steps back and put their hands on their guns in the second just before I rolled open the back of the truck. The little crowd that had formed got a great view of my living room furniture, which, i might add, is a very non-threatening khaki sofa and lightly colored wood coffee table ensemble.

I guess they concluded that my furniture and I weren't much of a threat. "Normally, this is a $75 fine and two points on your license," said the cop, "but it's Sunday, and I'm in a good mood, so I'm going to let you go with a warning."

And so yet another day in DC passes when I am amused by its ridiculousness.

Diving In

I grew up in Florida just a couple of miles from the beach, so I guess it's no surprise that I'm an "ocean person." 26 years, thousands of dollars in students loans, and two degrees later, I'm a marine biologist...sort of. When I'm sitting at my desk at work in February, in Washington, DC, deciding whether the 50-yard walk through the snow to Starbucks is really worth it, I often wonder how a so-called marine biologist from warm, sunny Miami ended up in a city three hours from the nearest beach.

The answer is simple - those who live here in DC all know that the center of the universe is "inside the beltway" (or so you come to believe). There is a National Association of [insert your favorite cause here] on every corner, each jockeying to have the ear of the lawmakers and policymakers who have the power to make things happen. The oceans are no exception, and so I've found myself in the thick of it all, working for a multi-federal-agency office whose purpose is to coordinate the establishment of an integrated ocean observing system. While I go to work every morning happy that I am involved in something that will make a difference, I don't feel very much like a marine biologist when I sit at a desk for eight hours a day.

So I decided to take some time off of work and get back into the field. This time, it will be Bimini, in the Bahamas (rough, I know). Bimini, which you can see in the picture above in all of its 9-square mile glory, is a mere 50 or so miles due East of Miami, yet it's a world away. These islands, the "Gateway to the Bahamas," were even a hangout for Ernest Hemingway and provided a setting for part of his novel Islands in the Stream. For two months, I will be living at the Bimini Biological Field Station on South Bimini, volunteering on shark research projects. Sharks? Yup. Call me crazy, but I love 'em.

I'm going to keep up this blog as an online journal so you can see what I'm up to at the Sharklab. I probably won't have regular internet access (I mean, c'mon, I won't even have fresh water for showering!), but I will, hopefully, be able to post some pictures and stories along the way.

I hope you enjoy the ride as much as I do...