There was a time when I thought you had forgotten about me. It was the summer after 10th grade right before school let out. I had been suspended more times than I could count that year. They warned me if I left school before classes were over one more time they’d kick me out for good. I remember that day vividly. The bell rang, prompting a 15 minute break between classes. Everyone clustered off into their groups to talk about whatever trivial gossip was on the menu for that day and I decided to walk across the street, just off school property, to an inviting patch of grass. The assistant principal caught wind of me being off school property and made his way to the edge of the street to yell at me to come back. His loafers skimmed the edge of the road, hands on his hips, as if the asphalt separating us was hot lava. I sat in the grass, the passing cars drowning out his voice to the point where I could only read his non-verbal gestures, which seemed more like he was waving someone back to shore after spotting a shark than some sixteen year old with a bad case of wanting to GTFO. It was the last day of school, what was he going to do, suspend me? I waved back at him and turned my attention to the floor-to-ceiling windows at the front of the school where you stood with your bmx and skater friends. There you were, like some kind of Van Morrison dreamy little asshole with your long hair, thrift-store shirt a size too small and levis jeans on. These were the years when we didn’t talk much. The in between years. Our days of “dating” in the 7th and 8th grade had passed and now we both had our own things going on. I had beef with authority and you hated the homogeneity of small town people we were surrounded by. Part of me still had the hugest crush on you, but it was largely masked by the fact that you acted like no one existed outside of your guy friends. Well, and Laura. The senior cheerleader who had decided, for whatever reason, to get her weird on and make out with you a few times in the backseat of your friend’s mustang. It was cool, I was doing the same with Joel, an art student at a local college who drew me pictures.

That day, sitting there in the grass, you saw me looking at you and we smiled at each other through the glass. Even though we didn’t talk, we always acknowledged the common ground we shared between us. It wasn’t until later that we would cash in on our similarities and turn it into something more again.

Last night while driving back from a cafe in town on the island, you looked over at me. I could see the whites in your eyes and the half smile on your face from the street lights as we passed underneath them. Your right hand left the gear shifter and searched for mine in the dark until our fingers met. You shook your head, eyes on the road.

“I don’t care where we are, as long as I’m with you”, you told me.

Thanks for sitting in the grass of life with me. It’s better over here.

Love,
nic

It’s 9:08 am and I’m sitting in the downstairs portion of the lab at the Center for Whale Research on the island of San Juan, WA. The water outside is choppy, riddled with white caps from a cold front that moved in over night. Leon Bridges is playing in my headphones…have you heard of him? He’s got this soulful sound that’s real cool.

This island brings back a lot of memories. I was nineteen the first time I boarded the ferry from Anacortes to San Juan Island, WA. I didn’t know what I wanted to do in life, but I knew that whatever it was, it didn’t involve staying in the small town in southeastern North Carolina I had grown up in. I had big goals, as most teenagers do. And like most aspiring marine biologists, I had always been interested in ocean science as a kid. Something about that big, blue ocean just intrigued me. I remember spending time on this one pier in particular as a kid, talking with fishermen, feeding the pelicans scavenging for fish bits, and sitting with my feet dangling off the end of the pier getting lost in thought in the waves. As soon as I was old enough, I applied to a research program through the University of Washington to study the ocean and its inhabitants. The program gave six students the opportunity to study and live aboard a vessel researching a resident orca population that frequent the waters surrounding the island chain, and, despite being younger than everyone else on board by a few years, they let me in. Everything was new and exciting…life was an adventure and I was along for the ride.

I’ve done a lot since then. I’ve studied rare beaked whales in the Bahamas, been at sea with every type of marine mammal relative to my latitude, I’ve studied dolphins off the gulf coast, cut open the world’s largest animal (a blue whale) after it got hit by a cargo ship, helped rehabilitate sea lions plagued with domoic acid poisoning, and lead exploratory trips 26 miles off the coast in search of white sharks and elephant seals. No matter where I’m at, I always find myself returning to these islands every couple of years or so to work at the orca lab on various projects. Things are different now then they were. In some ways it’s a good thing, in other ways it leaves me feeling a bit somber. There are students here in the lab that get so excited about the whales. I remember that. Over time you rein in this unbridled enthusiasm and try to channel it into something more productive. Hanging out with marine life is one thing, researching it is different. In the process of trying to become one of the tens of thousands of marine biologists around the world (of which maybe a few hundred are really needed), you get stepped on and looked over, elbowed out of things, denied funding. Everyone is gathered around a dripping faucet of funds waiting for a rush that never comes. And we’re all educated, more now than ever. Having a masters degree or phd is a given. Better tack on a few low paying post-docs to that phd to look more appealing when entering yourself into an applicant pool for a stale government contract you don’t really care about anyway. Marine research is seen as a luxury science by the people who matter the most. It’s not like biotechnology where research is leading to developments in treatments for terminally ill cancer patients. I read a paper the other day in a popular marine journal about dolphin ejaculation and how they close one eye when it happens. You know, it’s just not exactly vital information that the world is readily throwing fistfuls of money at.

Sometimes I find myself looking for that passion I once had for the field, a lot. How it felt to stand on the end of that pier looking out as a kid, or the first time I went diving. Yesterday the whales came up the west side of the island near this reef close in by the labs so I took the kayak out to see them. I paddled out fiercely to the kelp forest just off shore to get alongside them. A big male surfaced just a few meters from my kayak. It was cool to feel the adrenaline coarse through my veins. I read this post from a marine biologist who used to be a contributor to a blog I regularly read. He posted his “resignation to the field” after hitting his thirties and finding it harder and harder to support himself and a family from the meager contracts that became fewer and far between. I remember reading it and thinking I’ll never be like that. I’ll make it all work even if it gets tough. Sometimes I can’t help but find myself writing the same resignation in my head.

I used to view a career as this exponential thing. You studied hard, got a job and every year expected yourself to be 2x farther ahead than the year before. But it’s not, not in this field. With every contract you start again at the ground level, your work experience and education obsolete. The last job I took, someone at the lab who had been there for 12 years (they had started as an intern and worked up to lab manager, foregoing a formal education and worldly experience) told me I was “at the bottom of the totem pole” when I arrived.

I’ve found that working is, like a lot in life, linear. You have to keep moving forward. Even if it isn’t in the direction you originally planned.

Where I go from here is where it gets a little blurry. I’ll continue to document my life on this blog, of course.  I fell in love with being a biologist to begin with for the documenting part of it. Observing the world and taking notes. The discovery of it all, the discovery of self. It feels innate to do that in all areas of my life whether it’s home life or work life. I’m interested in what lies outside of lab work and a life that depends on research grants. Maybe I’ll make some short films or do something creative. Travel more, maybe. Or maybe I’ll just write jaded blog posts for a while until I figure it out (spoiler alert: I won’t).

Photos c/o of my new friend Stewart who somehow managed to convince me to get out of bed at 5:45 am to explore the cool parts of the island this morning.

This morning we are departing for San Juan Island, a small island off the coast of Washington state, so I can continue working on an ongoing project studying the endangered southern resident orcas (killer whales). I couldn’t be happier to return to the island. Last year I documented some of my time there with this video. The place is just pure magic.

This space has never really been one I’ve come to for talking about my work life. Mostly because I see this as a place to be creative and document my home life, and also because my day-to-day work routine can be rather boring, with a lot of writing and being behind a computer screen. But, I thought since the project I’m about to embark on is fun and exciting, I would share it here as well. And, Trey and the dogs are coming too! I’m a lucky girl. We’ll be driving Lola, our Landcruiser, up the west coast through Oregon and Washington, stopping along the way to ooh and ahh over some places. Then we’ll take the ferry over to the island and live at the lab for a few weeks. We even got new speakers installed in the truck yesterday so we can play music and listen to podcasts on the way up. I’ll be taking a lot of photos that I will share here and over on Instagram, if you’d like to follow along.

See you soon!

Last weekend we went on a road trip to Lake Tahoe for some hiking and summer fun. There’s just something about summer road trips that are so refreshing. There’s music and laughter, adventure and the joy that longer days bring. The dogs were psyched to hop into the truck and after a few minutes of hanging their heads out the window in unbridled happiness, they settled in for the 3.5 hour trip ahead and fell asleep across the bench seat in the back.

We made it to the lake a little after mid-day and decided to drive a bit further to stay along the Truckee River since we could practically back our truck in next to the water. It was more secluded than the campgrounds on the lake given the summer traffic, and it really gave us the feeling of being “out there”. Here we spent time looking for fish and throwing sticks down the river for the dogs to chase after. Jack and Keeper would both bring back whatever stick we had thrown…as a joint effort… it was really entertaining. They make a good team. Keep even surprised us by swimming in a deep part of the river…her first time swimming! When the sun started to set we made our way back to the campsite and started a fire. We made a margherita pizza in the cast iron, while the dogs ate their fill of Merrick’s Backcountry protein-rich kibble. 

Then it was time to towel off paws, brush teeth and get settled in for the night. Our truck bed is the best, it’s so cozy yet there’s plenty of room for all of us. Keeper rarely cuddles… she often gets too hot and does this zombie-walk to the end of the bed once she’s decided she’s had enough. Jack on the other hand is a professional snuggler. Anytime, anywhere…boy loves some snugs. This particular night Keeper decided she wanted to sleep between us for the first time. Trey managed to take a grainy iphone photo to document it without scaring her off. It’s my new favorite.

In the morning we took a stroll down by the river, picking wildflowers and letting the dogs explore before packing up. Then we moved on and went for a hike around Emerald Bay to take in the views. It’s just the most gorgeous place.

Once we had taken in the scenery, we headed down into South Lake Tahoe for some food. We fed the pups some of Merrick’s Backcountry wet food for lunch in the truck while we dangled our feet off the back tailgate eating sandwiches from Sprouts, a popular deli in town. We headed home shortly after, narrowly escaping some afternoon rain showers. On the way home, I turned back to see Keep asleep in the backseat with her tongue out (like always), and Jack with his head out the window clearly just loving life. We’re loving summer and I can’t wait for our next adventure!

This trip was sponsored by Merrick Pet Food- thank you Merrick! We only promote brands we’ve tried and recommend. 

Trey’s last day at his job was a couple weeks ago, so we celebrated with a trip down the coast to hang out in LA, then drove out to the desert and spent a few days lounging in Palm Springs and gawking at the giant trees in Joshua Tree.

In LA we stopped by the General Store and Deus Ex Machina in Venice, then got coffee and walked along the Santa Monica pier in the morning and played on the giant jungle gym at Muscle Beach. We always come and do the rings here whenever we’re in town. Jack came along everywhere with us, of course. He isn’t a big fan of walking on the pier…he knows there’s water underneath and crouches down all low. We had a lot of fun being the big kids we are.

From LA we drove east to Palm Springs. We lounged around the Ace, drinking fruity iced drinks and swimming in the pool. We were the least tattooed of everyone there, despite us collectively having a few. The chill vibe was cool there. Then we had the best mexican food and watched the prettiest sunsets. At night the stars were so bright and we hung out by the fireplace on our private patio. The next day we drove out to Joshua Tree national park and walked around the desert. We climbed the rocks around Skull Rock and looked at the huge succulent trees that towered over us. No one was out there. It felt otherworldly. Then we said goodbye to the 106 degree heat, drove home to the Bay and picked up Keeper. We’re gearing up for a weekend in Tahoe soon, then we’ll go up north to Washington for a month. More on that soon. Yay summer!

Last weekend we went to Big Sur, a stretch of coastline about 3 hours south of San Francisco. It started the same way most weekends start around here, with me looking up the weather on my iphone and scrolling through saved locations until I see a place that has a full sun icon. Living on the coast of northern California, the weather is always subject to change at a moments notice. The fog loves to creep in and linger like a bad fart. So, I saw it was sunny and 70 degrees in Big Sur, so we loaded the dogs in the back of the car and headed down the coast.

On the way down we stopped off along Hwy 1 to stretch our legs and look out at the ocean. We watched a mama gray whale and her new calf swimming just past the tide. This is the time of year they migrate back after spending the winter down south in the warm lagoons of Mexico. This mama likely gave birth to the calf and raised it for a few months in the warm shallows before making the long journey north to feed for the summer. We sat for a while on the cliff watching them until they passed out of view. We talked about how it was rather fitting for Mother’s Day.

It’s 7:14 am and I’m sitting at a coffee shop near my house. This pea coat-over-pajamas ensemble I’ve got going on has me slightly aware, but not enough to really care. I’ve convinced myself it’s the “I live across the street and I’m just getting coffee to-go” look. It could also be called the “I was too lazy to get dressed” look, but ya know, tomatoes to-mah-toes.

Continue reading…

This past weekend we drove to Napa and went walking through some fields with the dogs, then grabbed some food at a diner. It felt nice to sit in the tall grass and play with flowers, lay underneath a big tree and just get away from things. Watching Keeper and Jack race through the fields was really entertaining. They would jump like little foxes one after the other, disappearing until one of them darted out onto the path again.