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Hello from Wales, more precisely, from the Isle of Anglesey in the north of Wales. Here lies the School of Ocean Sciences (SOS) directly at the Menai Strait, where the ocean changes direction by 180 degrees four times a day. My name is Agnes, and I study Environmental Engineering in Munich and have decided to explore a new scientific topic with the GAME project. For someone like me, who is strongly interested in marine biology, it was quite a piece of luck to end up in a place with this high marine biodiversity. Every day, it seems like the sea breathes in and out – but mostly out as it is quite windy here, like a fresh salty breeze going through your hair.

Agnes (me) at the Natural Trust Reservoir of Penrhyn Castle, which is one of the most magnificent places near Bangor. If you have the chance to visit this reservoir, take your time to travel back in time by walking through Penrhyn Castle. (Photo: Agnes Dechêne)

Before arriving here, I never imagined that the nature in North Wales is such a mysterious beauty. It does welcome you to sit in the forests and watch the wind weave its way through the trees, rustling the leaves and casting shifting patches of sunlight across the moss and undergrowth. Sometimes you can hear the calls of birds echoing above, and the scent of damp earth and pine is carried through the air. Or you might walk across rolling green fields speckled with grazing sheep and wildflowers, then reach the rocky coastline where the sound of waves crashing against cliffs rises to meet you. Within minutes, you can watch the deep blue sea stretching below or observe the silver shimmer of sunlight on the water. If you want to experience some lonely time in nature, that’s your place to be. When the deep-hanging clouds allow it, you can even see the mountains with their peaks often veiled in mist, waiting for your visit. There is a certain calmness to the landscape that envelops you, encourages you to be mindful. But let’s take a break from my romantic view of non-cultured nature and give you some information about the life and work here.

This photo is a rare moment of livestock farming with no sheep. This unique situation is worth being in this blog. (Photo: Agnes Dechêne)
Not only is the ocean diversity magical, but also the many flowers around the green forests in north Wales. This is Astrantia major, also called “Große Sterndolde”, with a little visitor. (Photo: Agnes Dechêne)
An example of one of the perfect places to lie down in the grass and listen to the wind and the water rushing by. In the middle of nowhere. (Photo: Agnes Dechêne)
Bangor not only lies next to the ocean but also is only 30 min away from Snowdonia. Here we hiked the mountain Tryfan, with a view of the lake Llyn Ogwen. But to be honest, it was more a boulder than a hike. (Photo: Andres Krisp)
View from a small house in the woods, on a path along a river, this time with sheep. (Photo: Agnes Dechêne)

Now, I live in Bangor, right next to a natural reservoir, perfect for running or just a slow walk to say goodnight to the sun and the cows who live there. But be careful, it is hilly in Bangor, even though I love to have a walk, the walk up the hill from the city back home takes a while. With the wind and respect to the hilly topography, I sometimes think about what it would be like to be a bird. It seems a perfect place for it.

Sheep on a field enjoying the sunset. (Photo: Agnes Dechêne)
Two sheep on a field, also enjoying the sunset. (Photo: Agnes Dechêne)

Many people asked me about the weather before I came here. Wales has a reputation for rain, wind and clouds, but so far, the reality I experienced has been quite different. April and May had been surprisingly sunny and somehow dry. However, locals keep reminding me that summer is still coming. During a hike, one colleague quoted her mother saying, “There is no bad weather, rain just makes the hike more atmospheric.” As a German, I can only agree to this philosophy.

Beach day on the Isle of Anglesey, during the heat wave that swept across Europe in May – suddenly there was only sunshine. (Photo: Agnes Dechêne)
Hiking time, from no sight to the nicest view. (Photos: Luke Lazenby., Agnes Dechêne)
Barnacles that settled on the pier of the School of Ocean Sciences, Bangor University. (Photo: Agnes Dechêne)

The people at the School of Ocean Sciences are just as welcoming as you can expect from the British. Everyone is willing to help, answer questions, and share ideas. The technical staff, Pete, Aled, and Steve, already provided invaluable support to me while I was planning and building the experimental mesh cylinder. Alice, a marine biologist who volunteers on the project, has also become a great help. Her expertise in identifying marine organisms perfectly complements my background in environmental engineering. My main supervisor, Svenja, and I meet regularly to discuss the progress of my work and solve the inevitable challenges that arise during a field experiment.

Preparation of the mesh cylinder – a technical staff member of the School of Ocean Sciences is cutting the material to its required size. This mesh was a leftover from a previous project, and I had the opportunity to use it for my experiment. (Photo: Agnes Dechêne)
Settlement panels made from PVC, taking a sunbath before going to dip in the cold water of the Menai Strait. (Photo: Agnes Dechêne)

Speaking of challenges, I need to mention that, for me, this year’s GAME project is slightly different from the other participants’, as I do not have a team partner. This year’s project examines how underwater soundscapes, such as boat noise, or natural habitat sounds influence the species composition and abundance of sessile marine invertebrates. Each of the two active sound treatment levels plays at a specific temporal rhythm for 2 or 3 months, depending on site-specific restrictions. If there are two team members, then each chooses one of those treatment levels for their experiment. For comparison, there is always an additional treatment level, the ambient control. To ensure the project is feasible while maintaining research quality, I chose to focus on only two sound treatment levels: anthropogenic noise and the ambient background soundscape as the control. Hence, over the next three months, I will use underwater speakers to play back boat noise to simulate exposure to an anthropogenic soundscape at one of my two study sites. At the other site, no additional sound will be added to the existing ambient soundscape.

Sketch of the two study sites used for this year’s GAME experiment in Wales. The site on the left represents the anthropogenic sound treatment, where boat noise is played continuously, while the site on the right serves as the ambient sound control. (Photos: Agnes Dechêne)

This experimental design allows me to examine whether differences in underwater sound conditions influence the settlement and growth of marine sessile organisms that attach to hard surfaces such as rocks or, as a substitute, settlement panels. My two experimental sites are located 500 meters apart to ensure acoustic isolation, meaning that the boat-noise playback will not influence colonisation at the Site of the Control Frame (Raft). However, as I am investigating whether boat noise influences community composition, it is essential to ensure that the two experimental sites do not differ substantially in their initial species pool. To assess this, I deployed larval-pool test panels for two weeks before the start of the experiment and identified the species that colonised them. Statistical analyses of these communities, together with information from previous studies conducted at the same locations and accounting for the unique tidal dynamics of the Menai Strait, enabled me to evaluate whether both sites experience comparable environmental conditions and larval supply.

The Menai Strait itself is shaping the local environment and is influencing the practical aspects of my research. Functioning as a channel that separates Anglesey from mainland Wales, it features tidal reversal. During these tidal shifts, water flows in opposing directions at different times, so that as the tide comes in, some water moves toward the strait’s central point. In contrast, simultaneously, other water recedes in the opposite direction as the tide goes out. This situation is comparable to a river that changes direction several times per day in response to the tides. But instead of being one river, the Menai Strait is more like two rivers that meet in the middle of the strait. Furthermore, the Menai Strait experiences some of the largest tidal ranges in the world, with a difference of up to 8 meters between low and high tide. On a personal level, I learned that misjudging the tidal schedule can make it difficult, or even impossible, to retrieve equipment, underscoring how closely the natural dynamics of the Menai Strait are intertwined with the day-to-day realities of conducting fieldwork here.

Technician Steve waiting to board the raft, which is permanently moored in the Menai Strait. (Photo: Agnes Dechêne)
Final sound pressure level measurements at the Raft before the start of the experiment. Alice is holding the wooden slat supporting the HydroMoth at the depth of the mesh cages. While the boat-noise treatment was played continuously at the Pier site, measurements at the Raft site were used to verify that no experimental sound was detectable there. (Photo: Agnes Dechêne)
Pete, Alice, and I were blessed one day with a beautiful rain shower. Luckily, everything was waterproof – except my raincoat and my shoes. (Photo: Steve Rowlands)
Drifting algae that got caught up in the mesh cylinder, which holds the settlement panels at the raft. (Photo: Agnes Dechêne)
The experimental setup captures not only drifting algae but also jellyfish, but when the cylinders are moved in the water, they do free themselves. (Photo: Agnes Dechêne)
Settlement panel from the raft after 2 weeks, with some first, barely visible colonisers. (Photo: Agnes Dechêne)

Alongside the sound experiment, I am deploying additional recruitment panels, which are replaced with empty panels every two weeks. The retrieved panels are transported to the laboratory, where Alice and I identify the newly arrived species. This tracks which colonisers are present in the water column at different times during the experiment, and it is always a surprise which new species are on the panels. One of the most rewarding aspects of the project is the opportunity to see ecological processes unfold over time. Looking at the small, settled organisms through the microscope is like peeking into another world. So far, the panels are full of tiny hydrozoans, barnacles, bryozoans and tunicates.

The colonial hydrozoan Ectopleura larynx can be found all over our panels. (Photo: Alice Hegge)

Being responsible for the experiment in Wales on my own gives me many opportunities to learn and grow as a scientist. I have gained experience in logistics planning, organising fieldwork around tidal cycles, constructing equipment, processing samples, and managing acoustic and biological datasets. I never thought there would be so much planning required for a single site-specific experiment, especially since the theoretical preparation had already been completed during the course in Kiel. Nevertheless, this experience has left me with a long to-do list and many opportunities for further learning. One advantage is the opportunity to work closely with other team members on the GAME project and engage in meaningful exchanges. Whether discussing similar or contrasting challenges, finding solutions, or sharing personal experiences, it is important to both offer advice and share your experience working on an international project, just as much as you receive guidance from others.

At the moment, the experiment is fully underway. The mesh cylinders are in the water, the sound playback is running, and the first settlement panels have been analysed. Over the next few months, I will analyse species, check the sound system, and try to start writing my master’s thesis. Wish me and my little invertebrate’s luck!

I am enjoying life in Wales, learning some new things every day, about British history and environment, and trying to make it up Bangor’s hill. Between the strong tides, the endless shades of green and the ever-changing skies, it is hard not to enjoy the nature of the north of Wales.

Somewhere in Wales, at an ice-cold lake. One of the adventures on the weekends. (Photo: Agnes Dechêne)
With this, I wish a beautiful day and send you the biggest, windiest greetings from North Wales, UK (Photo: Andres Krisp).

To Settle or Not to Settle: Can Boat Noise Tip the Balance?

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Ocean Acidification

What are Tire Wear Particles?

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What do you think about when you hear the words “microplastic pollution?” Your mind may immediately go to imagery of colorful fragmented plastics broken off from bottles, buckets and other items we use in our everyday lives. Or, perhaps, you imagine a pile of microplastic fibers—the tiny, squiggly, spaghetti-shaped plastics that shed from our synthetic clothing. You may be surprised to hear there is another major source of microplastic pollution that’s hiding in plain sight, quite literally under our feet, that might change how you think about microplastics: tire particles.

We all know tires wear down over time—that’s why we have to replace them on our cars roughly every 60,000 miles or so. Every time a vehicle accelerates, brakes or simply drives down the road, the friction between its tires and the pavement creates tiny fragments of rubber, known as tire wear particles.

Driving a car or even riding in a bus is a bit like dragging an eraser across the planet, except the crumbs are microplastics. Toxic microplastics.

Dr. Britta Baechler
Director, Ocean Plastics Research, as quoted in Eos magazine

Tires are made from a complex mix of natural and synthetic rubber along with a range of additives, fillers and chemical compounds—some of which, like the preservative 6PPD, have been shown to be highly toxic to coho salmon when they break down into derivative product 6PPD-Q in the environment—even in tiny concentrations.

Some studies have shown that a single vehicle’s tires can emit more than two trillion particles per mile driven—and that the average person generates nearly two pounds of tire particles per year! Once these particles are shed from tires, they don’t just disappear. Some are small and light enough to become airborne, drifting away from roadways as dust. Others settle on road surfaces, where they accumulate until the next heavy rain washes them into storm drains and from there, into streams, rivers and eventually the ocean.

That’s why tire wear particles are now considered one of the top sources of microplastics to the environment. In fact, until recent developments in analytical methods, scientists weren’t reliably able to detect tire wear particles in microplastic counts—thus, these pesky microplastics may have been evading our detection for years.

Why green infrastructure may be one of our best near-term solutions

Unlike some sources of plastic pollution, we can’t simply stop driving overnight. Reformulating tire rubber to be less toxic or shed less material, while promising, will take time to develop, test and scale across the global vehicle fleet. So, what can we do about tire wear particle pollution right now?

This is where green infrastructure comes in. Green infrastructure refers to engineered natural systems (things like bioswales, rain gardens, roadside buffers and permeable pavement) that are designed to slow down, filter and treat stormwater before it reaches rivers, lakes and coastlines. Instead of routing runoff directly into storm drains and out to sea, green infrastructure gives contaminated water a chance to percolate through soil, plants and other natural filtration media, which helps trap microplastics, including tire wear particles, preventing them moving further downstream.

Early research on green infrastructure has been promising, showing that these systems are quite effective at capturing microplastics and other contaminants carried in road runoff. But there’s a critical piece we still don’t fully understand: What would it take to scale up green infrastructure across an entire city, and how much of a dent would that actually make in long-term tire wear particle pollution?

Our research on green infrastructure capture of tire wear particles

Funded by the Tire Industry Project, our plastics science and policy teams at Ocean Conservancy have partnered with the University of Toronto on a new study evaluating the costs and benefits of scaling up green infrastructure at the city level specifically to capture tire wear particles.

If you happen to be driving on the roadways of Portland, Oregon, you may spot our scientists crouched over, precariously scooping dirt with spoons from a sample area on the roadside. Don’t be alarmed—that’s just us doing science! Feel free to give us a wave.

Ocean Conservancy is currently working to:

  • Quantify the scale of pollution: Collect road dust samples from 30 cities globally to measure both total microplastic and tire wear particle concentrations and determine how different variables (population density, road size, rainfall) might influence those values.
  • Assess feasibility: Determine what it would take realistically—logistically, financially and spatially—to scale up green infrastructure across an entire city.
  • Model positive impacts: Estimate how much city-scale green infrastructure could reduce tire wear particle pollution entering aquatic ecosystems.
  • Compare across cities: Understand how well these solutions might translate across different urban contexts, focusing on Portland, Oregon; Toronto, Canada; and London, England as case-study cities.
  • Make our findings accessible: Produce a public-facing toolkit to help city planners, engineers and advocates guide real-world implementation of infrastructure that captures tire-wire particles. 

By pairing rigorous science with practical guidance, we hope to help cities move from asking “Could this work?” to confidently building solutions that we know can be effective.

Give today and make a difference!
We are on the front lines of ocean protection, investing in research, leadership and advocacy that advances evidence-based solutions that work.

How can I help?

Tire wear particle pollution can feel like an overwhelming problem. After all, it’s tied to transportation, which most of us rely on every day. But that’s exactly why research like this matters: It gives us a real, near-term path forward that doesn’t require waiting for the entire global transportation system to change first.

You can help by staying engaged with Ocean Conservancy as we continue to dig into solutions for the plastic pollution crisis—one roadway, one storm drain and one city at a time. Together, we can keep working toward a world and ocean free of plastic pollution, forever and for everyone.

The post What are Tire Wear Particles? appeared first on Ocean Conservancy.

What are Tire Wear Particles?

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Ocean Acidification

A tiny but remarkable visitor in Vejle Fjord-Denmark?

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A small jellyfish-like animal recently reported from Vejle Fjord has attracted attention. Clear photographs suggest that it belongs to the genus Gonionemus and may possibly be the clinging jellyfish, Gonionemus vertens (Picture courtesy to Jonas Bøgelund Poulsen)

Unlike the large jellyfish commonly encountered along Danish coasts, Gonionemus vertens is a small hydromedusa, usually only around 1.5–2.5 centimetres across. Its transparent bell reveals four coloured reproductive structures arranged like a cross. Numerous fine tentacles surround the bell, often appearing bent or angled. Small adhesive pads near the ends of the tentacles allow the animal to attach itself to eelgrass, seaweed and other submerged vegetation.

This unusual behaviour explains its English name: the clinging jellyfish. During the day, it often remains attached to vegetation rather than drifting freely with the current. At night, it becomes more active and swims into the water column to feed on zooplankton and small crustaceans. Consequently, it can easily remain unnoticed even in places where it is already established. Another reason the species can be difficult to detect is its life cycle. The visible medusa is only one stage. For much of its life, the animal may persist as a minute polyp attached to a hard surface, shell or vegetation. These inconspicuous polyps can reproduce asexually and later release new medusae when environmental conditions become favourable.

Gonionemus vertens is generally considered native to the northern Pacific but has been introduced into several parts of Europe and the Atlantic. Transport on ship hulls, in ballast water or with movements of oysters and other marine organisms has been suggested as possible pathways, although the pathway responsible for any particular occurrence is rarely known with certainty.

Despite its delicate appearance, the animal should not be touched. Some populations possess powerful stinging cells and have caused intense pain, swelling, muscle cramps and, in rare cases, serious allergic reactions. Sting severity differs considerably among regions, which is one reason researchers suspect that animals currently grouped under the name G. vertens may represent a complex of closely related forms.

The Vejle Fjord observation is therefore scientifically interesting, but it should not yet be presented as a confirmed record of G. vertens. Anyone encountering a similar animal should photograph it without handling it and record the date, exact location, approximate size, number observed and surrounding habitat. Observations can be submitted to Denmark’s national species portal, Arter, where they can be evaluated and contribute to tracking changes in Danish marine biodiversity. Please use either my App: GoJelly JellySpotter or reprot to the Arter.dk: Gonionemus taxon page and Danish species-reporting portal.

References:

Edwards, C. (1977). A study in erratic distribution: The occurrence of the medusa Gonionemus in relation to the distribution of oysters. Advances in Marine Biology, 14, 251–284. DOI: 10.1016/S0065-2881(08)60448-4.
Govindarajan, A. F., Källström, B., Selander, E., Östman, C., & Dahlgren, T. G. (2019). The highly toxic and cryptogenic clinging jellyfish Gonionemus sp. (Hydrozoa, Limnomedusae) on the Swedish west coast. PeerJ, 7, e6883. DOI: 10.7717/peerj.6883.

A tiny but remarkable visitor in Vejle Fjord-Denmark?

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Ocean Acidification

New Friends, New Addresses

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The JOIDES Resolution (JR) was a renowned, international, scientific research ship. It was home to over 190 expeditions, each sailing for 60 days at a time without docking. Scientists and crew members from all over the world met to discover Earth’s secrets through studying ocean cores. Every two months the JR would get a new crew, sailing to an entirely new place. This once in a lifetime experience forms special and unforgettable social connections.

Since working on the JR I’ve kept those connections strong with snail mail. I have always been an avid penpal, so meeting new friends means new addresses to send my letters and postcards to. Experiences like sailing on the JOIDES Resolution or participating in programs like OCEAN CORE Academy is one of the ways I’ve met people from all over the world.

Now that the JR is retired, there is no more scientific research drilling being done through the International Ocean Discovery Program (IODP). But, there is still plenty to learn from ocean cores, and plenty of people to meet through programs like OCEAN CORE Academy (OCA). OCA is an annual summer opportunity from the U.S. Scientific Support Program (USSSP) that hosts undergraduates interested in geoscience related careers. Students can apply to this program for a chance to research and study data recovered from cores originally brought up by the JR, now located at the Gulf Coast Repository (GCR) in College Station, Texas. Students also practice forms of science communication with the guide of mentors. As a science communicator and fan of snail mail, I ran a craft night teaching students how to make and send science-themed postcards.

Fig. 1) students using watercolor to paint onto 4 by 6 inch board paper, a photo of a thin section slide is in the background. Photo by Dr. Leah Joseph.

For this project, we based the cover image of the postcards off of rock thin section slides. These slides are a slice of a hard rock or mineral that’s been glued to a microscope slide, sanded to 0.03 millimeter thickness, and polished. Thin section slides are used to identify grain size, shape, color, and other physical properties. This helps scientists understand the textural relationships between the rocks and determine the origin or evolution of the parent rock. Thin sections can also be helpful for identifying minerals using cross polarized light (XPL). XPL reduces light reflection and glare, commonly used for sunglasses and professional photography, but in a polarizing microscope, XPL is used to create a dark field causing certain minerals to appear brighter and more visible. Different colors are associated with different minerals, and as the stage of the microscope rotates, light passes through the slide in unique ways aiding scientists with identification. Identifying minerals can help scientists in understanding more about where the rocks came from and how old they are. These thin sections are not only informative, but are incredibly beautiful, making unique and stunning postcard covers.

     

Fig. 2) Examples of thin section slides under a XPL microscope, bronzitite (left) and gabbro (right). Sourced from here.

After the OCA students finished their paintings, my home-made “post card” stamps go on the back, a stamp gets added, and they’re ready to be mailed out. Although most OCA participants this year were U.S. based, they came from all over, ranging from Staten Island to San Francisco to Arizona to Connecticut. In addition to one mentor from New Zealand!  For many of these students this was their first time traveling on their own, and their first time forming long-distance connections. With these scientific postcards, OCA students can stay connected by reminding each other of the science they learned together. My experience on the JR taught me great things about geological research, but it also gave me life long connections that I cherish. Although the JR is gone, its legacy lives on in our memories and the ways we stay connected with friends. I’m grateful to know that even without an international ship, I’m still able to add friends to my address book.

     

Fig. 3) Examples of participant made postcards

Written by Kellan Moss

New Friends, New Addresses

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