We set our 180-metre (591-foot) gill net perpendicular to the shoreline and wait for the young sharks. The dietary patterns of many shark species are still mostly unknown, so I’m hugely motivated to provide new insights in this field.Īfter a 20-minute ride we arrive at our destination, a shallow, hidden area on the western side of the North Sound nursery. To many fellow students back in Switzerland, this seemed an awkward topic to study, but I’m fascinated by what these sharks are eating. I’ve chosen to study the diet of young lemon sharks for my Master’s thesis. I am on the hunt for juvenile lemon sharks – more specifically, juveniles with full stomachs. With little explanation, we pack up our gear, start the engine and return to the SharkLab.Ī little over a year later, in January 2011, I find myself once again on a six-metre boat in Bimini’s North Sound shark nursery. What exactly are we doing here? Why are we following a juvenile lemon shark for eight hours straight? How can this help to contribute to science and the conservation of sharks? Late in the afternoon, my thoughts are interrupted by one of the volunteers calling it quits for the day. It’s hard work, it’s hot and very humid and I’m feeling rather helpless. To keep up with it we turn our boat in circles, sometimes putting the engine into reverse and, when the water gets too shallow, even pushing our trusty craft. We follow the loud ping that is moving steadily between the mangroves and the adjacent patches of sand and seagrass. A tagged shark, detected on the receiver underwater, has its location transmitted to us in real-time so that we can track its movements. My ears tune in to a digital ‘ping’ relayed on headphones. Instead of seeing sharks, I have to listen for them. Or so I thought… As it turns out, my first day in the field is entirely different to what I’ve imagined. This must be the North Sound nursery I’ve been told about – the place where I’ll finally see my first shark! Still constrained by my lack of English, I turn to watch the scenery passing along my right-hand side instead, leaving the question of what all this construction means hanging unanswered in the air between my fellow volunteers and me. As we continue northward, the docks and boats to my left grow bigger and fancier and numerous construction sites spring up around us. Our route has carried us around the beautiful island of South Bimini, across the channel that divides the South Island from the North Island and past tiny, colourful Bahamian houses that I instantly fall in love with. I feel pure excitement for whatever the day may bring and settle in to enjoy this ‘commute’. Instead, I sit quietly in the boat and look around me. Track lemon sharks? North Sound? Nursery? All these terms are foreign, but my English is too rusty to ask for any clarification. The next day, I’m sitting in a six-metre (20-foot) boat with two American volunteers and we are heading to North Bimini to ‘track juvenile lemon sharks in the North Sound nursery’.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |