A lesson in Belize by Thomas

A lesson in Belize by Thomas - December 2019 Scholarship Essay

On a cloudless Wednesday afternoon, I soared 10,000 feet above the sparkling shores of Belize in a small plane, my face glued to the window. After 40 minutes of euphoric sightseeing, we descended, the slow swaying of the palm trees beckoning us to land. As we touched down on the blazing tarmac, I imagined what lay ahead of me. Six other budding marine biologists and I were embarking on a citizen science expedition to tag and observe the shark population of the Belize Barrier Reef. The plane could not land fast enough.

I soon met the rest of my team in the one-room airport, before traveling to the research base. The remote fishing village of Riversdale amazed me with its life and vibrance. We were greeted by the tireless 93-year-old matriarch who was working on her garden in the hot sun, and the village children and dogs who ran up to get an eye on us new arrivals. Exhausted, we inhaled a succulent meal of stewed chicken with fresh mangos and passed out.

The next day began at sunrise with a training session to prepare us for our tasks on the water. The research technicians taught us how to measure the sharks we would catch, take a DNA sample in the form of a fin clipping, and attach the tag to the sharks' dorsal fins. They also demonstrated the proper method for recording the shark measurements, the boat's location when deploying baited cameras, and the water conditions. For the water data, I was excited to show off my prior knowledge gained during my Marine Biologists in Training class at the New England Aquarium by helping other trainees with the use and reading of the YSI data collector and information recording sheets. However, my experience paled in comparison to that of the native captains. They talked about how overfishing destroyed the abundance of sharks in the area, and how they used to see species now only rarely found in the Belize Barrier Reef. I came to protect this damaged shark population, but I did not know the true severity of the situation.

Over the next four days on the water, we engaged with aquatic creatures from green and loggerhead sea turtles to spotted eagle rays and dolphin pods. We took several outings to snorkel some of the giant coral outcroppings and visit their residents. Thousands of colorful, curious fish provided me with an opportunity to take unforgettable pictures and videos. For the professional side of photography, the baited camera footage we obtained featured lemon and nurse sharks hunting in their natural habitat. However, out of the 320 hooks we baited, our only catch was a large moray eel that had strangled itself. As much as these sights amazed me, the complete absence of sharks on our line devastated me. After training so hard to finally interact with a shark in person, this failure to catch any cast a thundercloud over the trip.

While I dealt with my own disappointment, the group leaders conveyed a powerful message: science does not always go as expected. They helped me realize that our lack of sharks serves as important data highlighting the extent of the damage done by overfishing. This realization helped spur my dedication to conservation efforts and my interest in the pursuit of marine biology and environmental science as a career. Before the trip, my only window into the world of science came through my three scientist relatives: a professor of neuroscience, a cellular biologist, and an archeologist. They had told me only of their successes, never of their failures and setbacks. However, the challenges present throughout science and the lessons I learned from the experience in Belize have not deterred me, but pushed me onwards, showing me that this work is more important than ever.