Roatán, Honduras. Round 1.
At aquariums - I would say when I was as a kid, but I still go religiously - I would stand for hours (literally) in front of the thick glass that separated me and the tropical coral reef and fish tanks. The complexity of ocean creatures is masked by a seemingly simple exterior, but with more colors than I even knew existed. Each organism in the tank needed the others, it was a perfect display of community. And only the closing announcements over the loud speaker could pull me away. Hundreds of questions still filled my mind as I exited the building to return to the lush, green wood-sy environment I grew up in. Although the ocean has always been in my backyard, the tropical environments and coral reefs were always physically much farther away.
My first year in college had been relatively uneventful marine biology wise. I mostly struggled through the first phase of "adulting", dealing with Los Angeles heat, and balancing a job with a full science-based class load. It had been two years since my turtle conservation trip (see Entry One), two years since I felt such a strong urge towards a career path I had been wanting to pursue since I was snorkeling in size three, plastic fins. To me, those two years felt like ten. When I know what I want, especially with something I'm passionate about, I am an incredibly impatient person. I entered Loyola Marymount University completely anchored in two ideas: I desperately wanted to study abroad, and I desperately wanted to pursue the field of marine biology. So four months into college I found myself knocking on the door of the study abroad office. Confused, they kindly tried to guide me towards the tour guide office, thinking I was a perspective student because of how young I was (and looked... awesome). I explained that I had seen a presentation about a study abroad coral reef ecology course nearly an hour before hand in one of my lectures and wanted more information and the application.
That summer of 2015 I found myself on a tiny island called Roatán, that was part of a chain of islands, the Bay Islands, off the coast of Honduras. I was mesmerized as I stared out of the plane at the fringing reefs that I would soon get to scuba dive for the first time. The next two weeks were filled with 2-3 dives a day, many lectures, underwater exams, presentations, and a couple island fiestas. I fumbled in the water at first, with my large fins and the feeling of anti-gravity but I quickly learned how to control my body and equipment, and was soon upside down and sideways looking into crevices for hidden creatures. My brain was like a sponge, every word of lecture soaked in as my eyes were wide and pen scribbling chicken-scratch like notes. I was here, in the Caribbean, scuba diving, studying the coral reefs I had always seen behind glass windows.
It was this summer that I met the most personally influential mentor of my career, Dr. Roy Houston. Always dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and bucket hat, Dr. Houston shared his wisdom and love for the ocean with me in between lectures, meals, and on the dive boat. I cherished every minute of the life talks we had on the top deck of the boat on our way to and from our dive site. I shared my goals and big dreams, what I had experienced already, and picked his brain about his knowledge of the marine world and field. One of the last dives of the trip was on a gorgeous day (all the days were gorgeous but this one in particular was stunning), the sun was warm and bright while the waves gently crashed up against the side of our boat. I was on the top deck of the boat, watching the dive site disappear along the slight curve of the horizon when Dr. Houston told me that I would make it. He told me that I had a passion for this field, some experience under my belt, and that big things were going to happen for me. Even writing about it three years later, my entire body is covered in goosebumps. My sunglasses hid the tears that started to fall out of my eyes as an overwhelming feeling of content and being at peace filled me. I had only felt that once before in my life, on Matura Beach in Trinidad and Tobago (see Entry One). But this time was even more powerful because I knew I was already making important moves into my field. I left a very large piece of my heart at Roatán Institute for Marine Sciences and promised myself I'd be back for it.
This moment set the course of the following three years at LMU, which laid the ground work for my dream graduate school acceptance.. but I won't spoil too much. I wish there were bigger, more meaningful words than thank you. But regardless, thank you, Dr. Houston.
And huge thank you, to Jennifer Keck, Education and Research Coordinator of RIMS. This moment would not have been possible with you and the massive amount of work you've put into building this institute. RIMS kick started my career, and for that I will forever be grateful.
Roatán Institute for Marine Sciences: https://www.roatanims.org/
My first year in college had been relatively uneventful marine biology wise. I mostly struggled through the first phase of "adulting", dealing with Los Angeles heat, and balancing a job with a full science-based class load. It had been two years since my turtle conservation trip (see Entry One), two years since I felt such a strong urge towards a career path I had been wanting to pursue since I was snorkeling in size three, plastic fins. To me, those two years felt like ten. When I know what I want, especially with something I'm passionate about, I am an incredibly impatient person. I entered Loyola Marymount University completely anchored in two ideas: I desperately wanted to study abroad, and I desperately wanted to pursue the field of marine biology. So four months into college I found myself knocking on the door of the study abroad office. Confused, they kindly tried to guide me towards the tour guide office, thinking I was a perspective student because of how young I was (and looked... awesome). I explained that I had seen a presentation about a study abroad coral reef ecology course nearly an hour before hand in one of my lectures and wanted more information and the application.
That summer of 2015 I found myself on a tiny island called Roatán, that was part of a chain of islands, the Bay Islands, off the coast of Honduras. I was mesmerized as I stared out of the plane at the fringing reefs that I would soon get to scuba dive for the first time. The next two weeks were filled with 2-3 dives a day, many lectures, underwater exams, presentations, and a couple island fiestas. I fumbled in the water at first, with my large fins and the feeling of anti-gravity but I quickly learned how to control my body and equipment, and was soon upside down and sideways looking into crevices for hidden creatures. My brain was like a sponge, every word of lecture soaked in as my eyes were wide and pen scribbling chicken-scratch like notes. I was here, in the Caribbean, scuba diving, studying the coral reefs I had always seen behind glass windows.
It was this summer that I met the most personally influential mentor of my career, Dr. Roy Houston. Always dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and bucket hat, Dr. Houston shared his wisdom and love for the ocean with me in between lectures, meals, and on the dive boat. I cherished every minute of the life talks we had on the top deck of the boat on our way to and from our dive site. I shared my goals and big dreams, what I had experienced already, and picked his brain about his knowledge of the marine world and field. One of the last dives of the trip was on a gorgeous day (all the days were gorgeous but this one in particular was stunning), the sun was warm and bright while the waves gently crashed up against the side of our boat. I was on the top deck of the boat, watching the dive site disappear along the slight curve of the horizon when Dr. Houston told me that I would make it. He told me that I had a passion for this field, some experience under my belt, and that big things were going to happen for me. Even writing about it three years later, my entire body is covered in goosebumps. My sunglasses hid the tears that started to fall out of my eyes as an overwhelming feeling of content and being at peace filled me. I had only felt that once before in my life, on Matura Beach in Trinidad and Tobago (see Entry One). But this time was even more powerful because I knew I was already making important moves into my field. I left a very large piece of my heart at Roatán Institute for Marine Sciences and promised myself I'd be back for it.
This moment set the course of the following three years at LMU, which laid the ground work for my dream graduate school acceptance.. but I won't spoil too much. I wish there were bigger, more meaningful words than thank you. But regardless, thank you, Dr. Houston.
And huge thank you, to Jennifer Keck, Education and Research Coordinator of RIMS. This moment would not have been possible with you and the massive amount of work you've put into building this institute. RIMS kick started my career, and for that I will forever be grateful.
Roatán Institute for Marine Sciences: https://www.roatanims.org/