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Blick von der Maria S. Merian auf den Signal Hill. (Foto: Stefanie Brechtelsbauer)

Mit dem Ende des ersten Teils unserer Forschungsfahrt haben wir den Hafen von St. John’s erreicht. Nachdem die Maria S. Merian noch lange in Nebel gehüllt war, tauchte dann ganz plötzlich der Eingang der Bucht von St. John’s auf. Nach Pass- und Zollkontrolle durften wir dann zum ersten Mal seit dem Start unserer Reise 10 Tage zuvor festen Boden betreten. St. John’s ist ein kleiner Ort mit hügeligen Straßen und vielen bunten Holzhäuschen. Der Überlieferung nach soll ein unter englischer Flagge segelnder venezianischer Seefahrer 1497 den Naturhafen von St John’s entdeckt haben. Er nannte das Land „neu gefundenes Land also New-found-land. 1583 wurde St. John’s dann zur ältesten britischen Kolonie. Nachdem die Siedlung ein paar Mal zwischen England und Frankreich hin und her wechselte, blieb sie ab 1762 fest in englischer Hand. Viele der Siedler damals kamen aus Irland, was vermutlich die Ursache dafür ist, dass der Neufundländische Dialekt dem Irischen ähnelt. Vielleicht erklärt es auch die ausgeprägte Pubkultur und die keltische Livemusik, die dort gespielt wurde.

Eingang der Bucht von St. John’s (Foto: Stefanie Brechtelsbauer)

Im Vorhinein wurde uns eine Wanderung auf den Signal Hill ans Herz gelegt. Dort empfing Guglielmo Marconi am 12. Dezember 1901 die erste transatlantische Funkübertragung. Ein historischer Ort, denn hier wurde die Nachricht vom Sinken der Titanic und vom Beginn des zweiten Weltkrieges als erstes Empfangen.

Weißkopfseeadler im Flug (Foto: Stefanie Brechtelsbauer)
Bunte Häuser von St. John’s (Foto: Stefanie Brechtelsbauer)

Obwohl immer noch sehr viel Nebel um St. John’s und Signal Hill lag, konnten wir zwischendurch doch den ein oder anderen Blick auf die Felsen und den Atlantik werfen. Wir hatten sogar das Glück einen Buckelwal und einen Weißkopfseeadler zu sehen.

Nachdem wir Proviant und Treibstoff nachgefüllt haben und die neue Crew- und Wissenschaftsmitglieder an Bord gekommen sind, geht es jetzt weiter in die Labradorsee. Was wird dort machen, erfahrt ihr im kommenden Blogartikel. Also bleibt gespannt!

English version:

View on Signal Hill from the Maria S. Merian (Photo by Stefanie Brechtelsbauer)

At the end of the first part of our research trip we reached the port of St. John’s. After the Maria S. Merian had been shrouded in fog for a long time, the entrance to St. John’s Bay suddenly appeared. After passport and customs control, we were then allowed to enter solid ground for the first time since the start of our journey 10 days earlier. St. John’s is a small town with hilly streets and many colorful wooden houses. According to legend, a Venetian sailor sailing under the English flag discovered the natural harbour of St John’s in 1497. He called it “new-found-land ” (Newfoundland). In 1583, St. John’s became the oldest British colony. After switching between England and France a few times, the settlement remained firmly in English hands from 1762. Many of the earlier settlers back then came from Ireland, which is probably why the Newfoundland dialect is similar to Irish. Perhaps it also explains the distinct pub culture and the Celtic live music that was played there.

Entrance to the bay of St. John’s (Photo by Stefanie Brechtelsbauer)

Before our arrival we the beautiful trail to Signal Hill was recommended to us by several people. On December 12, 1901, Guglielmo Marconi received the first transatlantic radio transmission there. A historic place, because this is where the news of the sinking of the Titanic and the beginning of the Second World War was first received.
Although there was still a lot of fog around St. John’s and Signal Hill, in between we were able to catch a glimpse of the rocks and the Atlantic Ocean. We were even lucky enough to see a humpback whale and a bald eagle.

Flying Bald Eagle (Photo by Stefanie Brechtelsbauer)
Colourful houses of St.John’s (Photo by Stefanie Brechtelsbauer)

After refilling supplies and fuel and the new crew and science members coming on board, we are now heading to the Labrador Sea. In the next blog post, I will explain a bit about what we are doing there. So stay tuned!

Aufenthalt in St John’s Kanada

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Ocean Acidification

Between Storms and Science: Easter in the Labrador Sea (04.04.26–13.04.26)

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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.

Photo: Sarah Tomae

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.

Photo: Sarah Tomae, GEOMAR

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.

Photo: Sarah Tomae

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.

Photo: Sarah Tomae
Photo: Sascha Gniosdorz

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).

Foto: Sarah Tomae

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.

Foto: Sarah Tomae

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.

Foto: Sarah Tomae

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.

Foto: Sarah Tomae
Foto: Sascha Gniosdorz

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)

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Humans Just Flew Around the Moon This Week. But Would Babies Born There Ever Truly Feel Gravity? Ask Jellyfish Babies.

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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

Humans Just Flew Around the Moon This Week. But Would Babies Born There Ever Truly Feel Gravity? Ask Jellyfish Babies.

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First Week of Cruise MSM142 – Into the Labrador Sea

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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.

Foto: Julia Pelle

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.  

Foto: Julia Pelle

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.

Foto: Julia Pelle

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.

Foto: Julia Pelle

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.

Foto: Julia Pelle

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. 

First Week of Cruise MSM142 – Into the Labrador Sea

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