¡Hola y bienvenidos a Chile!
We are Paula and Tim, Team Chile of GAME 2026. For the past four months, we have been working together to investigate how different underwater soundscapes (i.e. natural and human-made sounds) affect the settlement of benthic organisms and the formation of hard-bottom communities in a field experiment. We are based in Concepción, Chile (latitude -36.8 and longitude -73.0), and therefore have a rather unique position within the GAME network as the only location on the Southern Hemisphere.
Concepción has a mild Mediterranean climate with a strong ocean influence. The summers are warm, while the winters are cool and rainy, but never cold enough for snow due to the city’s low elevation and coastal location. However, if we want to see snow during our stay here, we only need to reach the nearby Andes Mountains that are just an hour away. At this time of the year, the day-time temperatures typically range from 11–15°C, while at night the average is about 5–8°C. The Pacific Ocean actually remains cool throughout the entire year due to the upwelling of cool deep water, and the winter sea surface temperature is about 11–13°C. This means that swimming is a definite no-go right now. Of course, we tried it on various occasions, but only to back out soon every single time. One of Concepción’s greatest attractions are its diverse natural surroundings. There are beautiful Pacific beaches, rolling hills, native forests, green landscapes, rivers and waterfalls – and all of this is within easy reach. To the east, the snow of the Andes provides excellent opportunities for skiing and hiking. To the west, we can enjoy surfing and diving along the Pacific coast (once the water warms up), exploring nature trails, or simply admiring breathtaking scenery. Altogether, Concepción offers a wide range of outdoor activities for everyone.
In 2026, we are the only GAME team that works on the Southern Hemisphere and the only one that is located in the Americas. This distinction comes with both advantages and disadvantages. On the one hand, it means that we have to get up earlier than anyone else for the weekly GAME Zoom meetings, which take place every Wednesday at 1 pm European summer time. Furthermore, we are also the only team experiencing winter while everyone else, in Europe and in Asia, is enjoying summer. On the other hand, we were in the ideal time zone for watching this year’s World Cup matches.
Now, in the austral winter, the days in Concepcíon are just starting to get longer; the rain, however, more frequent, and grey skies have become a familiar sight. Actually, our record were two straight weeks without seeing the sun, but having constant rain instead. Fortunately, our morale remains high, and this is achieved in no small parts by increasing quantities of coffee and hot chocolate, which we drink whenever and wherever possible to boost our frozen spirits.
The first month of the practical phase of the project was dedicated almost entirely to the preparation of our experimental setup. We spent countless hours identifying suitable field sites, solving logistical challenges, assembling equipment, and navigating the realities of conducting marine ecological research in Chile. Fortunately, the staff at the CENDYR Náutico facility and the Marine Science Outpost of the UCSC near Caleta Lenga provided tremendous support. They helped us to establish our experimental setup by providing local expertise on tidal conditions or allowing us to use their kayaks for the final deployment of our constructions.
However, not every challenge came from the scientific side. For example, the local sea lions seemed determined to remind us that we were visitors in their territory. Sadly, these sea lions are less the cute, curious, and cuddly kind and more the gigantic, grunting, and grumpy kind. Every trip to the experimental site involves negotiating space with our new noisy neighbours, who rarely appeared impressed by our presence. On sunny days the negotiations are often fruitless, while they are frequently watched by curious tourists, who regularly come to the pier to watch the marine mammals.
After this first month full of challenges, we were finally able to begin the experiment. It is designed to compare the effects of two very different underwater soundscapes on the settlement of marine organisms. Rather than investigating the effects of the two soundscapes simultaneously, we run two subsequent experiments using the same experimental setup. It consists of two frames: one for the sound application and one that is experiencing the natural, un-manipulated acoustic environment of our study site. Each frame supports a circular ring as its main structure, which carries the settlement panels on which marine invertebrates and algae establish during the experiment. To minimize the influence of the played back sounds on the second set-up, the two frames are placed as far apart from each other as possible. One is at the very beginning of the pier and the other one at its end.
Sixteen settlement panels are attached to each ring, which are equivalent to the surface of a ship hull or a rocky cliffside, and which provide a suitable surface for the colonization by marine sessile organisms. The establishing communities can be very diverse and identifying every species that settled on the panels can be a slow and sometimes painstaking process. However, this is part of our work and every time we come across a species we haven’t seen before, curiosity and excitement take over. We then feel just like little kids making a new and awesome discovery.
Paula is a marine biology student at the Universidad Católica de la Santísima Concepción. Before joining GAME, she had already gained experience in marine acoustics through projects supervised by Dr. Iván Hinojosa. Participating in GAME has pushed her well beyond her comfort zone. To attend the initial course in Germany, she left South America for the first time and travelled to Europe, which was an exciting but challenging experience. The journey was filled with many firsts – from her first intercontinental flight and her first European spring, to meeting Tim and the other members of the project in person for the very first time. The introductory course at GEOMAR provided an excellent opportunity to exchange ideas and learn new techniques. Beyond the scientific experience, it also allowed her to explore new cultures, visit beautiful places, and grow both personally and professionally. As English is not commonly used in everyday life in Chile and opportunities to practice it are limited, the course also gave her the chance to improve her language skills and gain confidence while working alongside students from around the world. Everything felt completely new, even going to the supermarket in Germany became an adventure. Making mistakes while choosing ingredients or accidentally buying the wrong sauce for lunch, became something fun to laugh about and remember. In March, travelling within the country became one of her favourite adventures. At first, she chose the safest option and bought bus tickets, but during her last days before leaving again, she challenged herself to take the train and travel anywhere without thinking too much. That sense of independence and discovery made her feel unstoppable. Exploring new destinations, discovering different architectural styles, and visiting Chilean friends living in Berlin made the experience even more special and unforgettable.
Germany had always been on Paula’s list of places to visit. Not only because of its history, but also because of the opportunity to study and collaborate internationally. Back in Chile, the project now provides another personal challenge for her. Most of her previous work experience took place in laboratories and offices, meaning that the winter fieldwork in coastal Chile, which we need to do now, is something that is unfamiliar to her. It is not completely new, but was definitely not part of her everyday routines so far. Every field day comes with a little bit of uncertainty: Will the weather cooperate? Will the sea be calm? Will everything go according to plan?
Working outdoors means adapting to whatever nature decides to bring. The job can be physically demanding and mentally exhausting. Sometimes Paula finds herself feeling seasick on the pier, trying to focus on the work and there are moments when the idea of sitting in a warm office, drinking a coffee, and staying far away from the waves sounds like the best scientific strategy ever created. However, she is determined to embrace this experience with curiosity, enthusiasm, and the best energy possible. After all, not every researcher gets the chance to work surrounded by the ocean, gain new insights into marine bioacoustics, and collect stories that will last far beyond the end of the project. Every working day is simply another part of the adventure, and, fortunately, conducting the project in her hometown means having family, friends, and local contacts nearby whenever a helping hand is needed.
Tim is a Master’s student in the programme “Biodiversity, Ecology and Evolution” at the University of Tübingen. Outside marine ecology, his main passion is handball. Within days after arriving in Chile, he joined the UCSC university handball team and is now helping them pursue qualification for the Chilean national championships. This sounds highly prestigious until one learns that the number of competitive handball teams in Chile is considerably smaller than in Germany.
During the first months in Chile he also made an intensive effort to relearn Spanish – which he had forgotten after his schooltime. Progress has been steady: he can now confidently introduce himself and can understand approximately every second or third word of a conversation, provided that it is spoken slowly enough. Nevertheless, this has not discouraged him from speaking Spanish whenever possible. Unfortunately, his inability to properly roll the letter “r” still reveals his foreign origins almost instantly. Despite occasional linguistic mishaps, he is thoroughly enjoying to experience South America for the first time and is looking forward to discovering more of Chile in the months ahead.
In the first months of the practical phase, opportunities for travel were limited due to the demanding preparation of the experiment. Between building frames, preparing equipment, scouting field sites, and carrying out the first sampling events, there was little time left to explore the country. However, now that the experiment is running smoothly and sampling events are more structured, there is finally enough time to enjoy life outside the field. Tim interpreted this newfound free time somewhat differently than expected and promptly booked a two-week trip to Rio de Janeiro—partly in search of warmer temperatures and partly because renewing his visa required leaving the country. After several weeks of cold, rainy Chilean winter weather, Rio offered exactly the kind of break he had hoped for: sunshine, beaches, mountains, and the unmistakable energy of one of South America’s most iconic cities. However, this experience made the rain in Chile seem only slightly less grey.
Before heading to Brazil, he also spent a weekend exploring the volcanic landscapes around Pucón. Hiking through forests, lava fields and snow-covered mountains quickly became one of the highlights of his time in Chile so far and confirming that Chile’s reputation for spectacular nature is well deserved.
With several weeks of fieldwork still ahead, there are already more adventures on the horizon. A trip to Buenos Aires is planned for the end of August, and before returning to Germany, Tim hopes to visit both, Patagonia in the far south and the Atacama Desert in the north. Few regions in the world offer such an incredible variety of landscapes within a single country, and after spending most of the winter along Chile’s central coast, seeing more of what Chile has to offer has become one of his goals for the remaining weeks of the project.
However, back to the experiment: For the first two months, our underwater loudspeakers continuously played recordings of container ship noise, recreating a busy shipping environment to our settlement panels. However, by now we have officially entered the second phase of the experiment, in which we replaced the anthropogenic noise by recordings of natural reef sounds. Over the coming weeks, we are looking forward to seeing whether the establishing communities differ between these two contrasting acoustic worlds.
Applying the two different soundscapes in separate experiments, has given us the opportunity to work closely together throughout every stage of the experimental work. We have been able to support each other during the harder tasks, double-check our work and decisions, and by this learnt from every step of the process. This collaboration has been essential for improving our methods and preparing us to carry out the second experiment in the best possible way. Working as a team has not only helped us overcome difficulties more easily, but has also made the journey much more enjoyable, with the phrase “It is what it is” becoming our team mantra to remind us to stay positive and adaptable when some things became challenging.
As if to test whether our team mantra really holds up under pressure, nature decided to throw us one final challenge. Just two weeks ago, a severe winter storm with wind speeds exceeding 100 km/h swept across the coast of Talcahuano. The combination of strong winds, high waves, and an exceptionally high tide pushed the water level over the seawall and straight into the crate containing all of our playback equipment, dragging it into the ocean. What had taken weeks to assemble was suddenly soaked and destroyed. After a brief moment of disbelief (or maybe two or three moments), there was only one option: rebuild everything. It took us around five days, plenty of patience, and more than a few nerves before the experiment was running again. Fortunately, we managed to get everything back into operation with only minimal interruption—proving once again that sometimes “It is what it is” really is the only way forward.
Our experiment will be continued until approximately mid-September. As we now move into the final weeks of fieldwork, we are excited to see how the project develops and what the data will ultimately reveal about the influence of underwater sounds on the diversity and composition of hard-bottom communities. We are especially curious about the final results of the second experiment, as the outcomes of the first phase were quite unexpected and contrary to what we had initially anticipated. These surprising results have made us even more eager to understand how marine organisms respond to different underwater soundscapes and what new insights the second experiment will bring.
Together, we have challenged ourselves to achieve two important goals: successfully completing this project and winning the endless battle to pronouncing the “R” sound in both of our new native languages. So far, the first one seems much more achievable than the second.
The work has been demanding, the weather at times challenging, and the sea lions consistently uncooperative, but the experience has already been incredibly rewarding. We are both very grateful for the opportunity to participate in GAME 2026 and look forward to sharing more updates as the project progresses.
Meet Team Chile: Science, Sea Lions and the South American Winter
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
