PRIORITIES

August 6, 2019

Prior to his retirement, my advisor Dr. Peter Klimley liked to remind me of the “P” words required to be a successful scientist: patience, persuasion, and persistence. This past year, I’ve seen firsthand the manifestation of all of these. I entered this field season with optimism, my two first manuscripts published and basking shark sightings reported everywhere, from the coast of California to my field site at Malin Head. I was excited to see old friends and revisit my now-familiar haunts. Representing the Irish Basking Shark Project, I had scheduled a public talk at Achill Island, the historic site of the world’s largest basking shark fishery. As for fieldwork, our basking shark tags were organized and the equipment was prepared for immediate use. I also looked forward to becoming more familiar with another of my study species, the flapper skate. This summer, I anticipated a trip to Scotland to tag this critically endangered species in another remnant of its range.

More broadly, I found myself involved in a larger collaboration designed to completely revolutionize marine conservation and species monitoring efforts in Ireland, Northern Ireland, and Scotland. Funded by the EU INTERREG VA Programme, the newly formed SeaMonitor Project is set to deliver Europe’s largest telemetry array (i.e. infrastructure of devices that can detect tagged animals as they move through a given area). Over the next four years, the project’s goal is to monitor and provide critical information on space use of several species of concern in the northeastern Atlantic region. These range from marine mammals like cetaceans (whales, dolphins, porpoises) and seals, to salmon, flapper skate, and basking sharks. In addition to its clear implications for marine conservation, SeaMonitor possesses a unique human element. Specifically, the project is formed by nine collaborative partner institutions from all over the world. These include the Lough’s Agency (UK and Ireland), the Marine Institute (Ireland), Queen’s University Belfast (UK), the Agri-Food and Biosciences Institute (UK), the University of Glasgow (UK), the University College Cork (Ireland), the Galway-Mayo Institute of Technology (Ireland), the Ocean Tracking Network at Dalhousie University (Canada), and my home institution: the University of California, Davis (USA).

As the representative of UC Davis on SeaMonitor’s Scientific Steering Committee, my role is to help inform on-the-ground operations for collecting data on basking shark and flapper skate. This field season, my third in Ireland, is where it all began. As an early career researcher, I was thrilled by the opportunity to be involved in such groundbreaking conservation and research efforts. Based on my experience the last two years, however, I was also fully aware that the work would not be easy. The basking sharks in particular have been elusive, though we aren’t certain of the reason behind their absence. Unfortunately for us, in spite of the optimism sparked by the Malin Head sightings this past May, it seemed that our shark drought may continue into this season.

July passed without a single fin. Yet there were days on the water where tidal lines streaked a mirror-like ocean surface, where the air was so clear and sun so strong that Scotland was visible on the horizon. The water was a Bahamian blue, the bottom visible in some places, and there was wildlife around every rocky outcropping. Sunfish (Mola mola) swam awkwardly beneath our boat, and pods of thirty or more bottlenose dolphins played in our wake. In short, basking shark conditions were periodically perfect. However, with the notable absence of these animals as the season progressed, those “P” words were becoming harder and harder to remember. Instead, a different “P” word came to the forefront: priorities.

After the oscillating enthusiasm and disappointment that characterized the first month of my field season, I was brutally awakened to the reality that life goes on beyond my research bubble. On July 26, 2019, I received a phone call that my grandfather had passed away. I belong to a closely-knit family, and though I had visited my grandpa prior to leaving the country, the grief affected me in ways I couldn’t express. Just a few days after I heard the news, my plane touched down in Ohio. All thoughts of basking sharks, flapper skate, conservation, and research disappeared - my priority was to be home.

No seminar talk or conference presentation has been as difficult for me as my speech at my grandfather’s funeral. I also can’t remember the last time I so consciously avoided my computer, unable to summon any motivation to do so much as check my email. But what I will certainly remember from this experience is a comment I received at the visitation: “You were the one we were waiting for.” In other words, among all of my grandfather’s family, I was the furthest away from him on the day he died. I was the last to arrive for the service. My priority, up until that phone call, had been my research. Now, as I prepare to return to Ireland, I have to consider whether my priorities have shifted.

My grandfather was not the type of man who would begrudge my pursuit of passion. However, as I tried to explain my work to his friends and family members, I gained a certain degree of clarity. Work-life balance will always be a challenge when the line between the two is blurred. However, addressing the challenge of maintaining that balance is a worthwhile endeavor. It is worth assessing which priorities are the most important, and when. In any case, what I’ve learned from the 2019 field season so far is this: if my work is to be one of my main priorities, it needs to have significant value to others. It will always be important to me that those within and beyond my immediate network, especially my family, understand why I do what I do. I never want to look at the results I have produced and think, “So what? Who cares?”. Thus, though unable to predict what August will hold, I am ready to finish this field season in an attempt to embody all of the attributes of a successful scientist: patience, persuasion, persistence. I will never forget my grandfather, but I have made peace with his passing. I have also been reminded that we, as scientists, are only human. We struggle to prioritize, and there is so much that we cannot control. But with the encouragement of my family, I’m ready to make my research a priority once more. I am fortunate to have the support that allows me to do so. Furthermore, I also believe that my projects moving forward have the potential to answer the “so what” question that has now become so important in my scientific endeavors. After all, wildlife conservation is nothing less than a noble pursuit.

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A special thanks to my supervisors, collaborators, friends, fellow researchers, and wonderful host parents/family, all of whom supported my decision and made it possible for me to travel home this field season.

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Written in loving memory of Dalton E. McInturf

1929-2019

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