Piper Zola

For our last blog, we were told to try to write a story. Neil on his tour of the Daintree told us about how the natural environment is the ultimate memory storage of human stories of the past. I wonder now what kind of memories Lizard Island would hold of us and what story it would tell if it could.

It might start by telling the story of our times spent snorkeling as a group in the Great Barrier Reef. Despite the toll of the recent bleaching events on the coral reefs, they were alive with incredible biodiversity. We all bonded over seeing color-changing octopuses, territorial humbug fish, cruising nurse sharks, friendly sea turtles, defecating sea cucumbers, and cautious clownfish hiding in sea anemones. Additionally, we all bonded over our passion for scientific research and learning new things as we dragged our meter sticks, transect tape, and clipboards under the waves to practice coral identifying and measuring coral cover and bleaching with Dr. Morgan Pratchett, who quickly went from stranger to friend. I am grateful to have been surrounded by so many people with such passion for this underwater world and to witness everyone connect with the ecosystem we all have chosen to dedicate our careers to. We learned so much about the reef during our time at Lizard, and realized that there is still so much more to learn.

Or perhaps Lizard Island might tell the story of our nightly sunset beers - a time set aside every evening by the people on the island to connect to one another, watch the sun go down, and hopefully see the green flash. It only took the sun 2 minutes and 30 seconds to sink below the horizon. However, those minutes turned to hours as we talked, played games, and made lasting memories together. Every night, the sunlight would eventually disappear and would be replaced by the clearest moonlit skies I’ve ever seen, filled with galaxies from the Milky Way, the Southern Cross constellation, and shooting stars. It was during sunset beers that we all went from being strangers to being friends.

Another story could be that of our hike to Cook’s Look; a true test of our dedication and strength. We started the hike in the morning expecting to be back in about 3.5 hours. The first leg of the journey was an easy one: walking the paths of the research station part of the island, through the mangroves which are intricately connected to the coral reefs, and past the resort. Then we took the steep climb up the side of the Cook’s Look, clinging to the rock like mountain goats. Choice words were spoken at this time. We climbed higher and higher, never reaching the aforementioned “flat part” of the trail, until we finally stood at the highest point and overlooked the unreal scenery around us. We could see all of the surrounding reefs, the lagoons, the islands, and mainland Australia amidst the bright blue water. It was so beautiful. And well worth the climb. I gained a new perspective from this height. I thought of all the ways in which the reefs are connected to the land. It reminded me of the importance of interconnectedness in assessing challenges; no problem can be solved under a microscope and instead, it takes a team of dedicated, passionate people with different backgrounds to make change or tackle a challenge the way we did on this hike. After soaking in the beauty of Lizard Island’s landscape, we made the quick journey back down the hill, which humbled a few of us. We made the decision to take the long way around in hopes we could catch the low tide near the lagoon. In short, we did not catch the low tide. Instead we bouldered over rocks, and trudged through waves. The challenges of the hike are what made it so exciting for me. I felt like a true field ecologist and I also felt much more connected to the island as well as the people around me. The hike was so fun and reminded me of why I chose to do what I do: the thrill of exploration!

The last story that could be told would be about the people I have met during this experience and the lasting connections I have made. Through this journey with this amazing group of people, I have learned so many life lessons from them. I learned how prevalent the feelings of imposter syndrome are in the scientific community especially among women. To help combat imposter syndrome, I also learned to always, unapologetically be myself and create an environment that allows others to do the same because that space is where we realize we are more alike than different. I also learned a little bit about myself: how unplanned adventures are the best kind of experiences. I saw the importance for scientists to reconnect with their love for the environment and regain that wonder and curiosity for the natural world. Most importantly, I learned to let go of certain expectations I have for myself as a scientist. There is no linear path to achieving my dreams and there is no need to compare my path to another’s. Instead, I should follow what excites me, whether that’s coral reefs or tropical rainforests, and take opportunities as they come, such as this NSF IRES program, that allow me to learn more about myself and my career. There is so much more for all of us to still learn, even things like groundwater!