Here at Waterstart, it takes a lot of swift transitions in
order to get a dozen campers scuba certified in a week’s time. And Week 3 was
especially dizzying because two simultaneous camps made for double the
students, double the gear, and double the instruction. One moment we are taking
multiple-choice PADI quizzes, and the next we are jumping off the good ship
Polaris into crystal-clear water above an 1877 Canadian steamship wreck.
But last week, one moment in particular had me pause. While one group was completing a Confined
Water dive at Whalebone, I was out snorkeling with a few girls from the other
group. We finned our way to the mouth of the bay, and I was eager to have them
push on—on the complete opposite side of the bay I had seen an octopus nearly
three weeks ago. I encouraged them with
words and fin-kicks. Why wouldn’t they
snorkel on, and cover more ground? We had a whole hour left!
But they hung around. One held the camera, and played with
her breath in order to sink to the bottom and take close-ups of corals. Another
watched the fish around a single rock until I was sure she was talking with
them; and she certainly had a lot to say when we got back to the lab.
It got me thinking. Whether you’re a diver, a weekend
naturalist, or a full-fledged researcher, the fruit of your labor is often
times born of profound stillness. The Bermuda Atlantic Time Series (BATS) project is not about
getting a quick snapshot of the Atlantic, but about gathering data over
decades! The type of changes that we care about in our oceans and climate simply
happen over such a time-frame—researches have to secure 30+ years of funding!
And if findings of the sea urchin regeneration studies are
ever applied to human medicine, I imagine it would involve days turned into
months, turned into years, turned into noticeable changes in a human body. Both studies are about exploring over time—not
covering ground.
There’s a power in slowness and stillness, and it is easy to
forget that much of the action and hurry of our day-to-day is truly aimed all
that can happen when we slow down, breathe, and observe.
The four happy Waterstart campers seemed to get this. Zipping
around Whalebone Bay wouldn’t have necessarily added to their snorkel, and they
all felt the satisfaction of waiting and watching.
But don’t be mistaken… we play it cool here at Waterstart,
and strike that perfect balance between stillness and swiftness. We’re already in
the thick of Week Four—our first intermediate group—and we’ve already snorkeled
Northeast Breaker, gone free-diving at a wreck, and started playing with our
brand new ROV kits. Stay tuned!
To follow our adventures at Waterstart, be sure to like us
on Facebook: www.facebook.com/bios.explorer
Cheers!
The Waterstart Team