Inside a 25-Day Ocean Science Mission

Rutgers researchers will study small ocean processes with big consequences

At sea, their days will begin in darkness.

Before dawn, Rutgers oceanographers Joe Gradone and Corday Selden expect to be on deck aboard the research vessel Falkor (too), preparing instruments, reviewing data and directing the first collection of water samples of the day.

Related: Read more about the scientists leading the mission

Gradone and Selden will serve as co-chief scientists on a 25-day expedition in the Atlantic Ocean supported by Schmidt Ocean Institute. Departing from Bridgetown, Barbados, on Aug. 9, the international research team will study salt finger mixing, a subtle form of ocean mixing that may influence marine life, ocean chemistry and the movement of carbon through the sea.

Oceanographers Joe Gradone (at left) and Corday Selden will co-lead the Rutgers science team aboard the R/V Falkor (too) as researchers work around the clock to study salt finger mixing, a subtle form of ocean mixing that may influence marine life, ocean chemistry and carbon movement.

The work will require a demanding shipboard rhythm.

Gradone and Selden expect to be on deck by about 3 a.m. as the ship approaches the first major sampling location of the day. Before dawn, the team will prepare instruments, lower equipment into the ocean and begin collecting information from below the surface.

At full sampling stations, a carousel of bottles will descend through the water. As measurements appear on a screen, Selden and other scientists will decide the depths at which those bottles should close.

When the device returns, teams will divide the water for experiments measuring photosynthesis, nutrients and the condition of microscopic marine organisms. Other researchers will collect zooplankton, tiny organisms that graze on marine plants.

After breakfast, the sequence will begin again. A third major station will follow in the afternoon. Smaller teams will continue taking measurements through the night.

Most days will preserve this rhythm. During two especially demanding 48-hour studies, the ship will remain in place while scientists conduct large experiments involving many bottles, extensive water sampling and repeated net tows.

"It's a big lift," said Selden, who meant that literally as well as scientifically.

The demanding schedule is designed to help the team capture changes in the ocean that cannot be detected from the surface.

Ashley Hann, a doctoral student in the Rutgers School of Environmental and Biological Sciences and a member of the research team sailing aboard the R/V Falkor (too), takes a break from packing equipment for the expedition. She sits on a box containing an Imaging FlowCytobot, an instrument used to study microscopic marine life.

The team will travel along a line of sampling locations stretching from west to east across part of the Atlantic.

An autonomous glider sent ahead of the ship will function as a scout, recording temperature and salinity and helping the team decide where the most revealing measurements might be found.

The scientists have 25 days to find those conditions, measure them and connect their physical structure with changes in ocean physics, chemistry and life. Their first task will be to determine, while still at sea, whether they are seeing the range of salt finger mixing conditions they set out to study.

Some decisions will be made in the moment, as profiles from the water column appear on shipboard screens. Those real-time readings can help the team decide where to sample next or whether to work with the ship's crew to adjust course.

Other findings will emerge only after the cruise ends. Some samples must survive the voyage, be transported to New Jersey and undergo laboratory analysis before the scientists know what they contain. Only one previous scientific paper has directly examined the connection between salt finger mixing and chemistry in a similar way, Gradone said.

The Rutgers-led expedition will attempt something more comprehensive by bringing physical oceanographers, chemists and biologists together at a much finer scale. Their observations may eventually help improve models of how the ocean supports biological growth and stores carbon.

The shipboard schedule will become a training ground. Students won't simply watch the work: They will be responsible for parts of it.

For Gradone, one of the lessons of going to sea is that field science rarely unfolds cleanly.

"Problems, failures, issues, they're all like the norm," said Gradone, adding that he wants students to become comfortable adapting when plans change, instruments falter or unexpected problems arise.

"Things go wrong," he said. "We'll figure it out."

Selden said that same process of adapting under pressure can become a turning point for students, especially when they begin to see themselves not as helpers, but as scientists responsible for a piece of the larger effort.

"One of the most rewarding parts of shipboard science is watching students come fully into their responsibilities," she said. "Everybody gets to own a part of the mission, and you can see their confidence grow as they come into their role."

Gradone plans to end his days by reading at least a few pages of nonfiction, a practice he adopted while finishing his doctorate. Reading something outside science, he said, helps turn off the part of his mind still working through problems.

Selden expects the ship itself to help her sleep. The bunks become completely dark, and on calmer nights the motion of the vessel can be soothing. She may listen to music or an audiobook. On deck, when time permits, she likes to read.

Both will try to remain connected to families at home. Selden's daughter will still be an infant when the voyage begins. Gradone has a toddler son. Satellite connections should make video calls possible, offering a link between the highly regulated world of steel-toed boots, hard hats and overnight watches and the lives continuing on shore.

Gradone described the scientific side of the voyage as potentially life changing. The family side, he said, is "a whole other ball game."

The work requires a ship built for complex ocean science. Schmidt Ocean Institute, founded by Eric and Wendy Schmidt, supports ocean research by providing selected scientists with access to advanced shipboard tools, technical staff and time at sea. Its 363-foot research vessel, the R/V Falkor (too), gives the Rutgers-led team access to laboratories, instruments and onboard support needed to collect and process data far from shore.

The opportunity also gives Rutgers students a role in research that few people at any career stage experience. It puts Gradone and Selden in charge of decisions whose consequences will unfold hour by hour at sea.

Gradone draws confidence from knowing that responsibility will be shared among people accustomed to solving problems together.

"I'm not afraid of making mistakes," he said. "I feel like we have a great support system to bounce ideas off of."

When the R/V Falkor (too) leaves Bridgetown, Gradone and Selden will be the co-chief scientists. They also will remain part of a scientific community that has prepared them for this moment.

"You can't do this kind of thing by yourself," Selden said. "There's just no way."

Explore more of the ways Rutgers research is shaping the future.