The past blog entries have shown you the breath-taking and beautiful works of the JellyWeb expedition: we have seen colourful critters, cutting edge technology and brave physicists alone amongst biologists. Our projects on MSM126 are quite diverse and besides all of them being quite exciting, they share one more trait: they all produce a ton of data. Data, that needs to be managed and curated.
I am going to be honest: if I would visit a blog about a deep-sea biology expedition containing posts about the coolest organisms and equipment ever, I would probably skip the part about data management. And I guess this is one of the reasons why jobs like mine exist – scientists love generating data, but managing their own data? That’s a different tale.
If a scientific cruise was a pirate’s adventure, the data we gathered would be the treasure. And everyone here on board works hard to make the treasure-hunt successful. And just like you would find different kind of riches such as diamonds, gold or rare spices, the data we collect is just as diverse. For example, food web ecologists such as Jamileh, Sonia and Florian (see blog post from 21.02.2024) gather thousands of individual organisms with various net types from different depths and areas. Every individual organism undergoes a specific processing, is photographed multiple times, might have been used in multiple experiments and is sub-divided into even more sub-samples for museum collections, food web, genetic and other analyses by the end. So, it is not just one data point but a multitude of physical measurements, organic samples and metadata. And as good scientific practice demands, one should take track and care of these information in order to avoid confusing and incorrect data capture or worst case: data loss. To get a structure into the menacing chaos, scientists usually use standardized protocols which queries all necessary information on the spot.
A completely different sort of data is image data. A true distinctiveness of MSM126 was the diversity of optical gear operations. With camera sensor-equipped gear such as the sea floor observation system XOFOS, the pelagic observation system PELAGIOS and the ROV PHOCA we had three platforms performing bottom and mid-water explorations – and generating terabytes of image data. And just as physical samples such as captured animals or filtered water, their digital equivalent needs proper curation and has to meet certain standards in order to be implemented in various research projects. To mention only one (which applies to all sorts of data), the so-called FAIR principles should be met. FAIR means that data should be findable, accessible, interoperable and reusable. Also, all the digitalized data needs to get a backup to ensure we have several safety copies. You see – you could say that the real work only begins after a sample is brought on board from the bottom of the ocean.

A true challenge during a research cruise, however, is the immense, stressful work and the reality of unforeseen situations. So, even if you have prepared the nicest protocols and most thoughtful working pipelines, people still might be too occupied with the hard work on the sea and structured data acquisition falls victim to this reality. For this case, it is a great advantage to have a dedicated position to keep an overview of our treasures – and for MSM126 I had this great honor. Okay, to be frank, I did this for the first time in my young scientific life and I think by the end of the cruise I’ve learned as much about data management as I have learned about handling difficult human interactions. Because as a data manager you have to be annoying. And to be a young, just-finished-her-master, female data manager which constantly pokes her older peers to do what she needs them to do requires a certain degree of resilience as well as creativity.
I guess here it comes in handy that I have a sort of dark past as a data manager… I am actually a trained biological oceanographer! And this can be quite helpful. First, I have background knowledge in quite a number of scientific actions here on board and therefore can understand what and how we need to keep in mind when it comes to data handling. Also, it helps a lot to decipher species names in hand-written protocols (sorry, needed to include this). Secondly, it gives you perspective on how difficult it is to be responsible for your own station, gear deployment, subsequent sample distribution and of course how all of this must be addressing your main scientific goal. Even though it should be obvious that everyone wants their data to be safe and sound, I still tried some ‘fun’ approaches such as over-the-top advertisement for our data entry station (“data entry is so cool and cured all my back pain”) or putting a monitor with ROV livestreams next to the data laptop to soothe the hardships of entering hundreds of lines of metadata into a giant Excel file.

I think we all did a great job regarding handling the huge amounts of ‘treasures’ we hunted during MSM126 and the only thing left to say for me is: do your data backups. Thanks for reading!
Sophie Valerie Schindler, Data manager (and secret biologist)
An eye for an eye, a byte for a byte – the hidden work of a data manager
Ocean Acidification
Between Storms and Science: Easter in the Labrador Sea (04.04.26–13.04.26)
Between all the scientific work, we celebrated Easter on board, although the weather had other plans for us. Due to rough conditions, we weren’t able to carry out any CTD casts.

Easter itself was spent in a mix of rest and small celebrations. Some of us enjoyed a long Easter breakfast with traditional Easter bread, while others took the opportunity to sleep in. In the evening, we gathered with both crew and scientists for a small celebration. The ship’s cook even organized a quiz, and those who answered correctly were rewarded with Easter chocolate.
The next day, the weather improved, and we began early with the recovery of K1, a 3,495-meter-long mooring in the middle of the Labrador Sea.
We joined the nautical officers on the bridge before sunrise to search for it. Fortunately, K1 has a floating buoy with a light, so we were able to spot it even in the dark. The actual recovery started at first light, and it began to snow while we were working.


Amid all the CTDs and mooring operations, there was also a personal highlight: my (Sarah’s) birthday. Although I’ve spent birthdays away from home before, this one felt especially unique, being so far out at sea, with only limited internet contact.
Normally, I work the 4-8 shift, but my incredibly kind shift team gave me the morning off. That meant I could sleep in and even find time to call family and friends back home. In the afternoon, I was surprised with my favourite cake, baked by Julia.
Our work continued with the mooring array at 53°N, which consists of seven moorings. So far, we have recovered five (K7, K8, K9, DSOW1 and DSOW2), and three of them have already been redeployed (K7, K8 and DSOW1,).
Deploying K7 turned out to be particularly tricky. On our first attempt, sea ice drifted toward us faster than expected, forcing us to recover nearly half of the mooring again. While the ship itself can handle drifting ice, deploying a mooring is much more delicate: a long cable with instruments and floats is released behind the ship before the anchor is dropped, allowing the system to sink into place.
Two days later, we tried again and this time, the deployment was successful.

Afterwards, we moved closer to the sea ice, which was a highlight for many of us. Seeing the ice up close and even spotting a seal swimming nearby, made the experience unforgettable.


Due to the continuing harsh weather, the decision was made to return to K1 and make use of an upcoming weather window for deployment the following day.
German:
Zwischen Stürmen und Wissenschaft: Ostern in der Labradorsee (04.04.26 – 13.04.26)
Zwischen all der wissenschaftlichen Arbeit haben wir Ostern an Bord gefeiert, auch wenn das Wetter andere Pläne für uns hatte. Aufgrund der rauen Bedingungen konnten wir keine CTD-Messungen durchführen (Messungen von Leitfähigkeit, Temperatur und Tiefe im Ozean).

Ostern selbst war eine Mischung aus Erholung und kleinen Feierlichkeiten. Einige von uns genossen ein ausgedehntes Osterfrühstück mit traditionellem Osterbrot, während andere die Gelegenheit nutzten, etwas länger zu schlafen. Am Abend kamen Crew und Wissenschaftler*innen zu einer kleinen Feier zusammen. Der Koch organisierte sogar ein Quiz, und wer die Fragen richtig beantwortete, wurde mit Oster-Schokolade belohnt.
Am nächsten Tag besserte sich das Wetter, und wir begannen früh mit der Bergung von K1, einer 3.495 Meter langen Verankerung mitten in der Labradorsee. (Eine Verankerung ist eine lange, am Meeresboden befestigter Draht, der mit Instrumenten ausgestattet ist, um über längere Zeit Ozeandaten zu messen.)
Noch vor Sonnenaufgang gingen wir mit den nautischen Offizieren auf die Brücke, um nach ihr Ausschau zu halten. Glücklicherweise verfügt K1 über eine schwimmende Boje mit Licht, sodass wir sie bereits im Dunkeln entdecken konnten. Die eigentliche Bergung begann bei Tagesanbruch und es begann sogar zu schneien.


Zwischen all den CTD-Einsätzen und Verankerungsarbeiten gab es auch ein persönliches Highlight: meinen (Sarahs) Geburtstag. Obwohl ich schon öfter Geburtstage fernab von zu Hause verbracht habe, war dieser besonders, so weit draußen auf dem Meer und mit nur eingeschränktem Internetkontakt.
Normalerweise arbeite ich in der 4-8 Uhr Schicht, aber mein unglaublich nettes Schichtteam hat mir den Morgendienst freigegeben. So konnte ich etwas länger schlafen und hatte sogar Zeit, mit Familie und Freunden zu Hause zu telefonieren. Am Nachmittag wurde ich dann noch mit meinem Lieblingskuchen überrascht, den Julia für mich gebacken hat.
Unsere Arbeit ging weiter mit dem Verankerungs-Array bei 53°, das aus sieben Verankerungen besteht. Bisher haben wir fünf geborgen (DSOW1, DSOW2, K7, K8 und K9), von denen drei bereits wieder ausgebracht wurden (DSOW1, K7 und K8).
Das Ausbringen von K7 erwies sich als besonders schwierig. Beim ersten Versuch trieb das Meereis schneller auf uns zu als erwartet, sodass wir fast die Hälfte der Verankerung wieder einholen mussten. Obwohl das Schiff selbst gut durch treibendes Eis navigieren kann, ist das Ausbringen einer Verankerung deutlich anspruchsvoller: Dabei wird ein langer Draht mit Messinstrumenten und Auftriebskörpern hinter dem Schiff ausgesetzt, bevor am Ende der Anker gelöst wird und das gesamte System absinkt.
Zwei Tage später versuchten wir es erneut, diesmal mit Erfolg.

Anschließend fuhren wir näher an das Meereis heran, was für viele von uns ein besonderes Highlight war. Das Eis aus nächster Nähe zu sehen und sogar eine Robbe in der Nähe schwimmen zu beobachten, machte das Erlebnis unvergesslich.


Aufgrund der weiterhin rauen Wetterbedingungen wurde schließlich entschieden, zu K1 zurückzukehren, um ein bevorstehendes Wetterfenster für die Ausbringung am nächsten Tag zu nutzen.
Between Storms and Science: Easter in the Labrador Sea (04.04.26–13.04.26)
Ocean Acidification
Humans Just Flew Around the Moon This Week. But Would Babies Born There Ever Truly Feel Gravity? Ask Jellyfish Babies.
This week, NASA’s Artemis II crew made history by flying around the Moon and returning safely to Earth, the first human journey to the Moon’s vicinity in more than 50 years. It was a stunning reminder that humanity is no longer just dreaming about living beyond Earth. We are actively rehearsing for it.
And that leads to a much stranger, deeper question: even if one day we build skyscrapers on the Moon, raise families there, and turn space into a place to live, will babies born away from Earth develop a normal sense of gravity? Or will their bodies learn the universe differently?
To explore that question, NASA once turned to an unexpected stand-in for human babies: jellyfish babies. On the STS-40 mission, scientists sent thousands of tiny jellyfish polyps into space because jellyfish, like humans, rely on gravity-sensing structures to orient themselves. The experiment asked a simple but profound question: if a living body develops in microgravity, will it still know how to handle gravity later?
The answer was both fascinating and unsettling. The jellyfish developed in space in large numbers, but once back under Earth’s gravity, the ones that had developed in microgravity showed far more pulsing abnormalities than the Earth-grown controls. In other words, their bodies formed, but their sense of balance did not seem to work quite the same way.
That is why this old jellyfish experiment still matters today. Before we imagine lunar cities, schools, nurseries, and generations born off-world, we need to ask not only whether humans can survive in space, but whether developing there changes how the body understands something as basic as up, down, and movement. Jellyfish babies cannot tell us everything about human children, but they may have given us one of the first clues that life born beyond Earth might not come home unchanged.

Reference: https://nlsp.nasa.gov/view/lsdapub/lsda_experiment/0c10d660-6b12-573d-8c3b-e20e071aed3b
Image: GEOMAR, Sarah Uphoff
Ocean Acidification
First Week of Cruise MSM142 – Into the Labrador Sea
After a slight delay of the Maria S. Merian caused by late-arriving containers our research cruise MSM142 finally got underway. By last Tuesday (24.03.2026), the full scientific team had arrived in Nuuk, the capital of Greenland, and the ship reached port on Wednesday (25.03.2026) morning. That same day, scientists and technicians moved on board and immediately began preparations, assembling and testing our instruments. Although the mornings on Wednesday and Thursday were grey and overcast, the afternoons cleared up beautifully. This gave us valuable time to organize equipment on deck and store empty boxes back into the containers before departure.


Given the forecast of harsh conditions outside the fjord, we carried out the mandatory safety drill while still in harbour. This included practicing emergency procedures and boarding the lifeboat. After completing border control, we were finally ready to leave Nuuk. We set sail on March 27th, heading into the Labrador Sea to begin our mission. Even before starting scientific operations, we tested the setup for deploying our gliders without releasing them during the transit out of the fjord. Once we reached open waters, we were met by high waves the following morning. For some on board, this was their first experience under such rough sea conditions. Seasickness quickly became a challenge for a few, while scientific work had to be temporarily postponed due to the strong winds and sea conditions. Together with the crew, we discussed how best to adapt our measurement plans to the given weather conditions. On March 29th, we were finally able to begin our scientific program with the first CTD deployment. A CTD is an instrument used to measure conductivity, temperature, and depth, which are key parameters for understanding ocean structure.


During the following night, we continued with additional CTD stations and successfully recovered two moorings: DSOW 3 and DSOW 4, located south of Greenland. These moorings carry instruments at various depths that measure velocity, temperature, and salinity. DSOW 4 was redeployed on the same day, while DSOW 3 followed the next day. In addition, the bottles attached to the CTD’s rosette can be used to collect water samples from any desired depth. These samples can be used, for example, to determine the oxygen content, nutrient levels, and organic matter.


Both are part of the OSNAP array, a network of moorings spanning the subpolar North Atlantic. On these moorings are a few instruments, for example microcats which measure temperature, pressure and salinity.
We then conducted around 25 CTD stations spaced approximately 3 nautical miles apart across an Irminger ring identified from satellite data. This high-resolution sampling was necessary to capture the structure of an Irminger Ring, which had a radius of about 12 km wide.

The days leading up to April 2nd were marked by very rough weather conditions. Life on board became both challenging and, at times, unintentionally entertaining sliding chairs were not uncommon. During the night from April 1st to April 2nd, winds reached 11 Beaufort with gusts up to 65 knots, forcing us to pause our measurements. Fortunately, conditions improved by morning, allowing us to resume our work. As well as with the help of the crew we had to adapt to the harsh weather conditions to continue our scientific work. On the 3rd of April, we were able to deploy a few gliders and one float. An ocean glider is an autonomous underwater Vehicle, which you can steer remotely and send to different locations, while it is measuring oceanographic key parameters.


This research cruise focuses on understanding small-scale processes in the ocean and their connection to the spring bloom, an essential phase in marine ecosystem in subpolar regions. Despite the challenging start, we have already gathered valuable data and look forward to the weeks ahead in the Labrador Sea.
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