In one of my past lives I was a marine biologist. Yep, Jacques Cousteau was my idol. I loved the beach not so much for the sand but for the psammon (pronounced like the fish, but really the microscopic flora and fauna of the interstitial spaces between sand grains of sea-shore and lake-shore areas). Okay, too technical, I get it.
In any case, I did a lot of scrounging on the rocky shores of New England, snorkeling in the pristine clear waters of Bermuda, and scuba diving in the murky muck of the Jersey coast (long story). I even worked at the National Marine Fisheries Laboratories on the Eastern Shore of Maryland and Sandy Hook, New Jersey. I studied jellyfish in the first and fish behavior in the second. The only problem with marine biology as a career was that there was basically one high-paying job in the business – and Jacques had it. So, alas, despite my all too brief discussion with Jean-Michel Cousteau about growing algae in Iowa (another long story), my marine biology days are behind me. At least professionally (yet another long story).
I did recently make my way back to Woods Hole, Massachusetts, where I strolled past the Fishmonger Cafe and The Captain Kidd, passed along the moored boats, and said hello to a new old friend – the whale in front of the NMFS aquarium (more on aquariums later). So here are a couple of photos reminiscent of days long gone but never forgotten.
A Whale of a Tale
Something about the reflection in this photo brings back fond memories.