Submitted by Sofia Garza (Trinity University)
It’s 5am in the morning and I can’t fall asleep; the excitement keeps me restless. Finally, my clock reads 7am and I enthusiastically leap out of bed. I rush to my closet and change into my clothes; a scuba suit, life vest, and goggles. Grabbing a stuffed penguin, I call out to my mom that I’m ready to leave. She pauses, gazes at me, and asks if her little marine biologist is ready for career day at school. I look at her, smile, and we sprint to the car.
I open my eyes. I hear my breathing echoing loudly. Swooshes of water mixed with the sound of crackling krill. A soft blue hue fills my vision as the water envelops me and the world above fades. A feeling of weightlessness overtakes me. I was one with the ocean and all its inhabitants.
Growing up, I was in awe of the ocean, its mysteries captivated me. When the time old question of what I wanted to do when I grew up was asked, I would always respond with marine biologist. So, when I saw the opportunity to join the Keck Geology Consortium’s Belize REU, I knew it was the perfect opportunity to see if working in the ocean was truly for me.
When I arrived on campus I was overwhelmed with positivity. Before I knew it, my team and I became a community. We were not only working together, but spending our free time and eating every meal together. After we finished our prep work, the moment we’d been anxiously waiting for finally came: we landed in San Pedro, Belize. The air was thick with warmth, the ocean stretched out like an endless invitation, we were ready to get to work.
But readiness was no substitute for reality. If I were to tell you the learning curve of how to work under the water was simple, I would be lying! From scuba training to mastering the art of writing underwater, each new skill required focus. Dives lasting over 5-hours tested endurance, communicating with your teammate/dive partner became a new silent language, co-existing with marine life, this work environment held a beautiful uniqueness. Learning to work in this environment was unlike any other, but it was also rewarding unlike any other.
The joys of starting your work day with a curious little parrot fish coming up to explore your face, being surprised by a moray eel while on your third hour of counting urchins, singing on the boat with your team, becoming friends with your captains, discovering species daily, and having the privilege of meeting various people with different experiences who have been working in the ocean for decades, was unmatched.
During this internship, I had to overcome many hurdles, but I found in each one a triumph and lesson. There was one obstacle that I personally would never be able to overcome. Every day working at coral gardens was a day working in a graveyard. The vibrant fish swam innocently among their home that would soon be gone. Once I was able to process and grasp the magnitude of what was being lost, I felt both devastated and privileged- privileged to be able to tell the story of what I saw and to share the urgency.
Before I knew it it was our last day in Belize. I woke up to the clock reading 6am; I was restless. The alarm went off. I got out of bed, put on my suit, grabbed my snorkel, fins, and mask. As I stepped outside, I smiled—a feeling of déjà vu possessed me.
