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The ICYMARE conference in Bremen

Hi, my name is Josephine, I am a student in the Master’s program Biological Oceanography at Geomar Helmholtz-Center for Ocean Research. I am currently writing my Master’s thesis at the Research and Technology Center (FTZ) in Büsum, which is part of Kiel University. My research focuses on the diversity and composition of fish communities in tidal creeks of the German Wadden Sea. My thesis is part of a project that consists of a field survey where fish and benthic communities were sampled at two locations in the Wadden Sea between May and November 2024.

The FYORD travel grant made it possible for me to attend the ICYMARE conference in Bremen, where I presented my research plan in a poster session. The conference took place from September 15th to 20th and generally addresses early career researchers in the field of marine sciences. Most of the participants were PhD students, some recently graduated Postdocs and some master students. The conference started with a get-together for drinks and snacks at the Bremen Overseas Museum and was followed by four days full of interesting talks, a poster session, excursions and ended with a big party. Each day started with a keynote talk held by experienced scientists. What I really enjoyed about this was that most of the talks were interactive and presented a range of career options following a degree in marine sciences. I really had the impression that all these talks were conceptualized to provide guidance, valuable insights and reassurance to young researchers like me. My favorite keynote talk was about merging “Constructive Journalism” and Research for the Greater Good by Christoph Sodemann from the company Constructify.Media, mostly because I have never heard of the concept of “Constructive Journalism”, and I feel like that is exactly what the world needs more of right now. The rest of the day was filled with a variety of presentations, always in two parallel sessions, so that there was always an interesting talk to listen to. There were coffee breaks and a lunch break each day, where you could network or take a look at the posters or enjoy some time in the creative corner, where you could express your passion for marine science and more in little artworks for everyone to see or for you to take home. Every day after lunch, there was a so-called “round table”, where we could hear and talk about topics that are important to us, for example, mental health during a PhD or how to handle conflicts at your workplace.

On the second day of the conference, the evening was reserved for the poster session, where I got to present my research for the first time alongside approximately 30 other young scientists. Each presenter was standing next to their poster, ready to answer questions or guide you through the poster. It was a great experience and made me feel more confident about my research. I got to talk to many people, some who work on similar projects, or some who come from a completely different background. This way, I learned how to adjust my presentation to the person who is listening based on what questions they ask. And while it was very exciting, I was also telling the same story over and over again to different people until after two hours of talking, my throat hurt, and I decided to take a look at the other posters and presenters before I headed back to my hostel. The afternoon of the third day was reserved for workshops and excursions. The workshops introduced either technologies, for example for pCO2, pH or acoustic measurements, or aimed to improve skills such as navigating peer review processes or introduced different paths, for example as a data scientist or scientific journalist. I decided to go on one of the excursions that was highly recommended to me, the guided tour through the MARUM, the Bremen core repository of the International Ocean Discovery Program (IODP) and the Geosciences Collection of the University of Bremen. For the evening, a Science Speed Meeting was organized where you could meet other scientists and possibly make some new friends.  On Friday evening, the conference was then closed with a Farewell and a Post-Conference Party. 

Overall, this was a great experience that increased my confidence in my research and career choice, gave me the opportunity to meet many great people and to gain insights into what is possible after I graduate. What makes this conference so special is that it is mostly organized by young scientists for young scientists, which is reflected in the structure of the conference and the price tag, making it accessible to students. I am definitely going to be in Bremerhaven for the ICYMARE 2025. If you, the reader, are standing at the beginning of your career in marine research, I would highly recommend you come, too.

Josephine Lorenzen


Sea-Level Rise and Vulnerability in Seychelles

My name is Kim Nierobisch. During my studies, I developed a focus on interdisciplinary marine science, completing a Bachelor of Arts in Political Science/Sociology and a Bachelor of Science in Geography, both with a strong emphasis on marine topics. Currently, I am pursuing my Master’s degree in Practical Philosophy of Economy and Environment.

Climate and coastal adaptation planning often operate within a more technical framework, while social, political, cultural, and normative dimensions tend to be sidelined. Beyond the question of who decides where and to what extent adaptation occurs, the normative dimension plays a fundamental role – namely, the essential question of what coastal communities define as worth protecting. My master’s thesis explores the intersection of sea-level rise and vulnerability in Seychelles. Specifically, I analyze how normative values shape coastal adaptation priorities by examining government documents to identify both explicit and implicit strategies. In this context, normative values are understood as collectively held beliefs about what should be prioritized, preserved, or pursued. They reflect societal judgments about what is considered good, just, or desirable. During the workshop, I had the opportunity to reflect on these findings. As part of a focus group discussion, I explored the normative dimension of coastal adaptation priorities more deeply, allowing me to better understand and contextualize normative values, which resonate in decision-making but remain underexamined.

The workshop on Sea-Level Rise Impacts in Seychelles 2024 was organized by the adjust team from Kiel University, the Ministry of Agriculture, Climate Change and Environment (Seychelles), and Sustainability for Seychelles. It brought together stakeholders mainly representing government organizations, environmental consultants, and nature conservation groups. The workshop combined inter- and transdisciplinary approaches to analyze the impacts of sea-level rise in Seychelles, assess coastal adaptation options, and discuss various strategies and priorities.

The process of analyzing and extracting normative values was quite challenging. Although normative values were not explicitly named or fully recognized within a technical dominant framework, they were clearly present and influenced coastal adaptation planning. This underscores the importance of more deeply integrating social, political, cultural, and normative dimensions into research and planning processes. Inter- and transdisciplinary formats have their limits (which should always be defined), but they remain valuable approaches because they provide a more holistic understanding of complex issues. A key takeaway from my experience was understanding that such collaboration requires continuous dialogue and exchange to overcome barriers between different perspectives. It takes a lot of time, effort, and persistence, especially due to the different epistemologies – different ways of knowing and understanding the world, which are shaped by different disciplines, cultures, and experiences – involved.

Additionally, I had the opportunity to strengthen dialogue and cooperation within the UN Ocean Decade framework. The initiative was officially endorsed as an UN Ocean Decade activity, focusing on research and planning that promotes sustainable ocean governance through interdisciplinary, transdisciplinary, and integrative approaches. As the youngest member of the German UN Ocean Decade Committee, I recognize the urgency of addressing current challenges, such as the 1.5°C target (which is at risk of failing) and the limited progress on the Sustainable Development Goals (with only around 16% expected to be achieved by 2030). Dialogue, particularly among young ocean enthusiasts and early career ocean professionals, is necessary to tackle these challenges and build a sustainable future together. These conversations offered an important opportunity to promote solidarity, mutual support, and shared motivation in a time of uncertainty regarding global climate and ocean-related goals.

THANK YOU! I am deeply grateful for the many meaningful encounters with incredible people, inspiring moments, and the fruitful, critical exchanges that took place in Seychelles. I would like to sincerely thank the FYORD team and the OceanVoices blog for their long-standing support and collaboration.

Kim Nierobisch


The ASLO Aquatic Sciences Meeting

My name is Mariana Hill, and I work at the Biogeochemical Modelling group at GEOMAR. I’ve been at GEOMAR since 2016, when I started my Master’s degree. Currently, I do my own research in collaboration with other members of GEOMAR and institutes overseas. I am interested in modelling higher trophic levels, such as fish, sharks and whales, and their interactions with the environment. For this, I use diverse tools, for example, dynamic models such as the individual-based multispecies model OSMOSE, as well as habitat niche models using statistical and machine learning algorithms. I work with regional models, allowing me to study in detail local ecosystems. For my doctorate, I focused on the northern Humboldt Current System, which hosts the most productive fishery on the planet. During the postdoc, I have expanded my expertise to other ecosystems such as the western Baltic Sea, the North Atlantic Ocean and the Mexican Pacific.

I attended the ASLO Aquatic Sciences Meeting in Charlotte, USA, from the 26th to the 31st of March. I presented our latest work modelling the habitat of Peruvian anchovies in the northern Humboldt Current System. This conference gathers every two years researchers working on ocean sciences and limnology from all over the world. While there’s room in the conference for scientists working in all kinds of aquatic fields, biogeochemistry and marine biology are especially well covered. I presented at the “Leveraging Modelling Approaches to Understand and Mitigate Global Change Impacts on Aquatic Ecosystems” session, which was one of the largest in the conference, spanning a whole day. This session brought together modellers from several disciplines, so I got the chance to learn about new ecological models that I had not heard of, such as the structural casual models. I was also impressed by the level of expertise of some really young scientists, even in their Bachelor’s. I found it an interesting experience that, despite being an early career scientist, in this conference, I took more of a mentoring role for younger scientists in contrast to my previous conferences when I was still a student.

The ASLO conference is very friendly with students and early career researchers, providing plenty of opportunities for these groups, such as workshops on science communication and career development, social events, mentoring and even a mailing list for searching for shared accommodation. I got the chance to reconnect with another Master’s student from GEOMAR who is now working as a postdoc in Arizona and went for a hike in the Appalachian Mountains with some of her friends. The whole experience ended up with being invited to a new working group on Nitrogen. Another non-conventional exchange happened at the parking lot of our accommodation when everyone had to evacuate due to a false fire alarm, and my roommate and I met a senior scientist working in Texas who reminded us of the most basic questions of why we do science. Don’t just write proposals on the hot topics, “do what you love and your time will come”.

ASLO 2019 was the first conference that I attended when I started my doctorate. Back then, I found the possibility of chairing a session at a future conference attractive. Later on, I learnt that this is not such an easy task since you have to look for co-hosts and write a session proposal. However, this year, when I got my letter of acceptance to present at ASLO, I also got an invitation to chair one of the sessions that had been proposed by the organisers but did not have a host yet. I expressed my interest and became the chair of the “Fish and Fisheries” session! This was a very rewarding experience since I got to know the speakers of the session, as well as my co-chair, and I learnt what it is to be “on the other side of the table” during a session. I learnt some useful practices that I will apply from now on whenever I present at a conference session. For example, something I did not use to do but now I consider important is to introduce yourself to the session chair before the session starts. As a chair, I really appreciated this since I could identify the speakers and know if anyone was missing.

Keep an open mind when going to ASLO and step out of your comfort zone to visit not only the sessions related to your main research interest but also other sessions and workshops; you might get nice surprises. It is also a great setting for getting career advice from people who are not so close to you or are not involved in your work. Don’t be scared of talking to senior researchers, I have never encountered a person who is not happy to talk to me during a conference; in the worst-case scenario, you might just need to line up for a couple of minutes, but the time spent waiting is totally worth it! I have got some of the best ideas for my science communication strategies at conferences, from a scientist who was not very comfortable speaking English bringing a buffet of questions about his talk for the audience to pick from, to an improv workshop on how to speak freely and engage with the audience through a positive attitude hosted by a Hollywood actor. Always have a notebook for taking notes with you because your brain will be boiling with new ideas during the whole conference.

I recommend attending the ASLO conference, especially to early career researchers, to biologists and biogeochemists and to anyone looking for collaborations in the USA. A special recommendation for shy scientists is to try different ways of networking, not just the typical chats during the coffee breaks. For example, the icebreakers and mixers usually have specific formats to integrate everyone into small groups. Talking to the person sitting next to you during the plenary session might just get you to meet a top scientist in your field. This is how I got to know about a new project on whale monitoring in the Virgin Islands! Furthermore, asking questions one-to-one to the presenter after the session or plenary is also a great way to start a conversation. And, finally, I totally recommend any early career scientist to host a session; it is a lot of fun and, at least in ASLO, the format is so friendly that it will cost you barely any effort.

Mariana Hill

FYORD Travel Grant Reports: May 2025

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Ocean Acidification

Between Cádiz and the Sea: Our GAME Adventure in Spain

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Welcome to Cádiz

When we arrived in Cádiz in April, we knew that we would be spending the next months working on an experiment about underwater soundscapes. What we did not yet know was how much of our time would be spent carrying equipment through the city, rebuilding experimental frames, solving technical problems and trying to convince various pieces of equipment not to end up at the bottom of the Atlantic.

Cádiz itself was a pretty good and beautiful place to start.

The city is located at the very tip of a narrow peninsula and is surrounded by the Atlantic on almost all sides. There are beaches almost everywhere, small streets leading through the old town, the harbour with its many boats and plenty of places where you can simply sit down and watch the sea. It did not take us long to understand why Cádiz is sometimes called La Tacita de Plata, the Silver Cup.

Our first evening was still fairly relaxed. After arriving and settling in, we went out together for a drink and explored a little bit of the city. It was a good introduction to our new home. The next morning, however, the relaxed part was over and GAME 2026 officially began for us.

A few impressions of Cádiz, from its historic cityscape to its beaches and coastline. Left: Sunset over La Caleta beach. Upper right: Cádiz Cathedral (Catedral de Santa Cruz sobre el Mar). Lower right: Monument to Gades at Paseo Almirante Pascual Pery Junquera. © Liam Stübbecke.

Our project focuses on how underwater soundscapes may influence the colonization of hard surfaces by marine sessile organisms. To investigate this, we used standardized PVC settlement panels mounted on experimental frames and exposed them to different underwater soundscapes.

Over the course of the experiment, we monitored which organisms settle on the panels and checked whether the developing communities differ between the different acoustic conditions. The panels themselves were only 15 x 15 cm in size, but the frames, which were holding them while they were underwater, were much larger and required quite a bit of construction and preparation.

So, before we could investigate anything, however, we had to build everything.

Building the experiment

The first weeks in Cádiz were all about getting the experiment ready. Before the panels could go into the water, we had to prepare the equipment, rebuild the experimental frames and organize everything needed for the different parts of the experiment. Our setup consisted of large rectangular frames made from PVC pipes that carried the 15 x 15 cm settlement panels while they were in the water. In addition to this, we had speakers for the sound playbacks and ropes, buoys and weights that kept everything in position.

Although, there were frames left from a previous GAME project that was done in Cádiz, we decided to build new ones, which meant sourcing new material, cutting and assembling PVC pipes, preparing the panels and putting the different parts of the setup together. Some materials were bought locally, while others had to be ordered. This also resulted in one of our first small fieldwork adventures: transporting several metres of PVC pipes in a public transport bus through Cádiz was not exactly an everyday activity. We did not have a car at the time, and the large hardware store, where we bought some of the material, was quite far away, so getting everything back to Cádiz meant taking several buses while carrying long PVC pipes through crowded streets and vehicles. We bumped into things more than once, attracted a fair amount of attention and quickly realized that carrying several metres of PVC through a busy city is not as easy as it sounds. At one point, the combination of researchers, long PVC pipes and a local hardware store became what we jokingly refer to as the “Bus Hardware Store” episode.

Building the frames also taught us quite quickly that fieldwork rarely goes exactly according to plan. Some parts required a bit of improvisation and technical problem-solving, and when we reached a particularly stubborn technical issue, we even called Liam’s father in Germany for some additional advice. Although he was not directly involved in the project, his background in mechanical engineering and his experience with practical technical problems made him a useful person to call when we needed another perspective. A video call across Europe was not exactly part of the original plan, but it turned out to be a useful addition to our fieldwork toolkit.

Building and preparing the experimental setup, from assembling the frames to preparing the technical equipment. © Liam Stübbecke and Ignacio Gestoso.

At the same time as we worked on the set up, we were preparing the recordings of natural underwater soundscapes that would later be used for the experiment. For this, we built a deployment system consisting of a concrete-filled bucket, a wooden pole and a HydroMoth attached to the pole. The idea was simple: the heavy bucket keeps the structure stable on the seafloor, while the hydrophone records the surrounding natural soundscape above it. The practical part was considerably less simple. Several heavy loads of concrete had to be transported through Cádiz, and once the equipment reached the beach, getting the concrete-filled bucket into position was another workout altogether. We used a two-wheeled hand truck to move the heavy bucket across the beach and then into the shallow water. From there, we worked our way out by snorkeling and swimming, carrying and guiding the setup into position. The water was no more than about two metres deep, so there was no need for a boat.

Preparing and deploying the equipment for recording natural underwater soundscapes, including the construction of the recording setup and transporting the heavy equipment to the water. © Liam Stübbecke and Carlos de Luis Suarez.

The setup may have looked a little unconventional, but it was based on the plans we deleoped for recording natural soundscapes during the preparative course in March. After plenty of cutting, drilling, tying, carrying and assembling, the first major pieces of the project were finally ready. The frames were taking shape, the equipment was coming together and our first soundscape recordings were underway.

With the construction phase coming to an end, there was only one major question left: where exactly will we put everything?

When the plan changed

Finding a suitable experimental site turned out to be one of the more complicated parts of the project.

Our original plans involved a site in a nearby marina, but the situation changed when we were informed that construction work was planned close to the site. The associated noise would have interfered with the acoustic conditions required for our experiment, making the location unsuitable for our setup. We therefore had to move the experiment to a different location at relatively short notice. This meant adapting the setup and transporting the frames again. In the end, we found our new home at Puerto América, at the north-eastern tip of the city.

The change was a good example of how fieldwork can sometimes require a little flexibility. You can spend weeks discussing the experimental design, the set up and the site selection, but once you actually arrive at the water, there are always things that you could not have predicted from a map.

The new location gave us enough space for the experimental setup and allowed us to continue with the project. Hence, the frames were finally transported to Puerto América, weighted and installed.

Getting the frames into the water was actually much easier than building them in the first place. Once we had transported the frames to the harbour, we were able to get them into position and secure them relatively smoothly. The real challenge had been the preparation on beforehand: assembling the large PVC structures, attaching all the necessary components and making sure that everything was ready for deployment.

Deploying the experimental frame at Puerto América. The frame is transported into position, lowered into the water and secured at the jetty before the experiment begins. © Liam Stübbecke and Carlos de Luis Suarez.

After weeks of preparation, the frames were finally in the water. The structures that we had spent so much time building on land were now ready to become the basis of our experiment.

From this point on, the focus shifted from building the experiment to monitoring what was happening around it.

Hydrophones, boats and one very expensive swim

Once the experiment was running, the HydroMoths became an important part of our regular monitoring. These small underwater recorders allowed us to record the acoustic conditions around our experimental frames and to measure the sound levels reaching the area of the experiment. This helped us to keep track of the underwater soundscape throughout the experimental period and to verify in hindcast what acoustic conditions the organisms on the settlement panels were actually exposed to.

Of course, regular monitorings also meant regularly getting the equipment in and out of the water. And this was when one of our more memorable fieldwork incidents happened. One day, Liam was alone at the harbour and had a fairly straightforward task: retrieve a HydroMoth, download the data and put it back into the water. Everything went well until the moment when the HydroMoth decided to make the last part of the procedure considerably easier for itself.

It slipped out of his hands and disappeared into the water.

We tried to retrieve it by diving down, but the visibility was extremely poor. Finding a relatively small piece of equipment underwater turned out to be much harder than expected, and despite our efforts, we could not recover it. It was certainly not part of the original plan, but fortunately, the experiment could continue. The lost HydroMoth has since become one of those fieldwork stories that is much easier to laugh about afterwards.

Hydrophone measurements at the experimental setup. Upper: Acoustic isolation measurements with the HydroMoth positioned at the frame. Lower: Hydrophone monitoring of the experimental frame underwater. Shortly before one of these HydroMoths took an unexpected swim into the depths of the harbour, it was still doing exactly what it was supposed to do. © Liam Stübbecke and Carlos de Luis Suarez.

The regular monitorings also revealed how quickly conditions around the experimental site can change. One day, for example, we arrived at the harbour and found a boat parked remarkably close to our experimental setup, almost directly next to our buoys. Luckily, nothing was damaged and the boat did not cause any problems for the frames, but it was certainly an unexpected sight when we arrived.

An unexpected visitor at the experimental site. A boat ended up unusually close to our experimental frame, leaving Carlos to inspect the situation with some understandable confusion. Apparently, our frame was not the only thing claiming this spot in the harbour. © Liam Stübbecke.

Working in a harbour means that we are sharing the space with many other users, and sometimes the surroundings have a few surprises in store for us. Fortunately, most of them have been harmless so far.

From PVC panels to marine communities

The most interesting changes, however, did not happen above the water.

They happened on the settlement panels.

At the beginning of the experiment, the panels were simply pieces of PVC. We sanded their surfaces and standardized them so that they would provide suitable settlement substrates for marine sessile organisms. After deployment, there was not much to see.

Then the first organisms started to arrive.

During the first sampling events, we began to see the panels changing. Small organisms had settled on the surfaces, and the communities became increasingly diverse. Ascidians and bryozoans were among those colonizers that became particularly noticeable, together with worms, crustaceans and algae.

Suddenly, the panels that we had spent weeks preparing were becoming real pieces of habitat.

A settlement panel after several weeks in the water, harbouring a developing marine hard-bottom community. The panel is already covered by a diverse assemblage of organisms, including ascidians, bryozoans, algae and numerous small polychaetes such as spirorbid tubeworms (Spirorbis). © Liam Stübbecke.

That was probably one of the most rewarding moments of the project. You knew exactly what a panel looked like before it went into the water. Then you retrieve it a few weeks later and had to figure out what has colonized it.

Some organisms were relatively easy to recognize. Others required a microscope, identification guides and considerably more patience.

Our supervisor was a huge help with this part of the project, especially when it came to identifying organisms that were less obvious at first glance. What initially looked like a small patch of something growing on a panel, could turn out to be an entirely different taxonomic group once you took a closer look.

And sometimes the organisms were simply fascinating to look at.

Despite the fauna and flora on the panels, we encountered small crustaceans, fish and other animals using the experimental structures as a habitat. One particularly photogenic shrimp even ended up on Liam’s hand during sampling.

Sampling in the field at our experimental site. Upper: Settlement panels were kept in water-filled containers during sampling and documentation. Lower: Our temporary field laboratory, with the microscope, laptops and equipment set up directly at the harbour. © Liam Stübbecke.

The panels were therefore becoming more than just experimental units. They were small snapshots of the underwater world and the marine biodiversity around Cádiz.

The scientific question remained whether the different acoustic conditions influence the development of the communities. But before we could answer that, we had to document what was actually there.

And that meant sampling.

Sampling in the field

Our first sampling event made another aspect of fieldwork very clear: sometimes there is no perfect laboratory waiting for you at the harbour.

Since our experimental site was relatively far from the university facilities, we transported the equipment we needed directly to the field site by car. This included the microscope and the other equipment needed to examine, photograph and document the settlement panels.

There was no perfect laboratory waiting for us at the harbour. So, we built one.

We set up a small temporary workspace close to the experimental site and arranged everything we needed for the sampling. With the microscope, cameras, laptops, sampling equipment and the panels themselves, we quickly had our own little field laboratory ready to go.

Once everything was set up, the panels came out of the water. One by one, they were photographed, examined and assessed for the organisms that had settled on their surfaces. Some could be identified relatively easily, while others required a closer look under the microscope and a little more time.

The same basic procedure was repeated during the following sampling event, allowing us to compare how the panels had changed over time and which organisms had newly appeared or become more abundant.

Working directly at the field site also had its advantages. Instead of transporting the panels back and forth, we could examine and document them close to where the experiment was running and get an immediate impression of how the communities were developing.

Of course, the conditions were not always perfectly calm. Strong winds can make working at the harbour considerably more challenging, and this is where we really began to appreciate the Levante, the strong easterly wind that regularly affects the Cádiz area. By “appreciate”, we mean learning very quickly how much more complicated even a routine sampling day can become when the wind picks up. Even simple tasks require more coordination, especially when working with equipment and panels close to the water.

Nevertheless, the sampling days became one of the most interesting parts of the experiment so far. Every time we brought a panel out of the water, there was something new to discover.

The youngest member of the GAME team

There was also one very important member of the team who deserves a special mention.

During one of our most recent monitoring days, we had some unexpected assistance from a four-year-old.

While we were reading out the equipment, working on the frames and dealing with the usual collection of sampling tasks, our youngest helper decided that watching from the side was not enough. He wanted to participate.

So he did.

For a short time, we had officially found the youngest member of the GAME team. He may not have been able to explain the experimental design or tell us anything about sound pressure levels, but he was very enthusiastic about helping with the work. It was a small moment, but it was also a nice reminder that fieldwork is rarely as isolated as it can sound when described in a scientific paper. People around us had become part of the experience, whether they were helping with equipment, giving advice, asking questions or simply were curious about what two researchers are doing at the harbour with a collection of PVC pipes.

And occasionally, they became part of the team.

Life outside the frames

Of course, our time in Cádiz did not consist entirely of PVC, HydroMoths and sampling.

Living in Cádiz for several months also meant getting to know the city and the surrounding region outside the harbour. We spent a lot of our free time near the sea, whether that means going to the beach, playing sport or simply enjoying the city after a long day of fieldwork. With beaches, the old town and the harbour all within easy reach, there was usually no shortage of places to spend a few hours away from the experiment.

We have also used our time here to explore more of Andalusia. We visited Sevilla, where we could experience one of the region’s larger and more historic cities, and travelled to Tarifa, where we joined a whale watching trip and got to see some of the marine wildlife of the area from a completely different perspective.

Life outside the frames. A glimpse of our trips beyond Cádiz: the iconic Plaza de España in Seville, designed by Aníbal González for the 1929 Ibero-American Exposition, and a group of long-finned pilot whales (Globicephala melas) observed during whale watching in the Strait of Gibraltar from Tarifa. © Liam Stübbecke.

Other trips took us to places such as Zahara de la Sierra, a small mountain town overlooking the reservoir, and Ronda, famous for its spectacular location above the deep El Tajo gorge.

Exploring Andalusia beyond Cádiz. The famous Puente Nuevo spans the Tajo gorge in Ronda (left), while the view from Zahara de la Sierra (right) overlooks the surrounding mountains and the Zahara-El Gastor reservoir. © Liam Stübbecke.

These trips were a welcome change from our usual routine and gave us the opportunity to see a little more of the region we called home for the duration of the project.

The weather had certainly helped. Temperatures were regularly around 30 degrees, although the strong winds could make the conditions feel very different. After spending a day working at the harbour, a few hours at the beach were therefore not the worst way to finish the day.

Andalusia has also experienced some major environmental events while we had been here. Large wildfires affected parts of the region during the summer, although Cádiz itself was not directly affected.

Then there was the solar eclipse.

Cádiz experienced a partial solar eclipse, which gave us the opportunity to witness something very different from our usual fieldwork. For a short time, the attention of the two marine biologists was directed away from the water and towards the sky.

A different kind of fieldwork. The partial solar eclipse observed from Cádiz (upper picture) and the same eclipse as seen from Madrid (lower picture), briefly turning our attention from the water to the sky. © Liam Stübbecke.

It was a nice change from looking down at the panels.

Poco a poco

Looking back at the time in Cádiz, the project had not developed exactly as we imagined it would.

We changed the experimental site. We rebuilt parts of the setup. We carried heavy concrete across the city. We improvised a sampling station outside. We dealt with strong winds, boats appearing where they were not supposed to be and one HydroMoth disappearing into the sea.

But at the same time, the experiment was running.

The frames were in the water. The HydroMoths were recording. The speakers were playing their experimental soundscapes. And the settlement panels slowly became colonized by marine organisms.

That is probably the most satisfying thing about seeing the project now compared with the beginning. In April, most of what we had was equipment, plans and a long list of things that still needed to be done. At the end, there was an actual marine community growing on the structures we built.

And all the observations that we made are now data that can be analysed.

Perhaps the best way to describe fieldwork in Cádiz is with a phrase we have heard and used plenty of times:

Poco a poco.

Little by little, the experiment was coming together.

Hasta luego, Cádiz!

Carlos & Liam

Poco a poco. Carlos and Liam during the construction of the experimental frames at the University of Cádiz in Puerto Real. A quick self-timer photo between tools, PVC pipes and the next round of fieldwork. © Carlos de Luis Suárez & Liam Stübbecke.

Between Cádiz and the Sea: Our GAME Adventure in Spain

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Ocean Acidification

The Biodiversity Data Gap We Rarely Talk About