Petroleum wasteland

We are close to the vast array of rigs and support ships here at the Deepwater Horizon spill site. We navigate the Nancy Foster carefully around our various sampling stations. Much of the day we wait on local shipping controllers before moving to another station, occasionally to within a few miles of the well head itself.

Our research mission had two primary objectives. One objective was to study the Far Field to understand how ocean currents transport the spilled oil. A second objective, and no less important, was to test water samples at depth to see if accelerated bacterial feeding caused by these huge volumes of spilled oil depletes oxygen so essential to marine life. We had received special permission to sample at great depths extremely close to the spill site, a task we also shared with NOAA research vessel Pisces.

The Pisces, courtesy of NOAA

Today I witnessed signs of oxygen depletion myself in surface waters. On two occasions I saw small baitfish gulping air by lunging above the oil, a behavior that only happens when water quality is poor. And no wonder, as we moved around, the constant sheen along the ship was augmented by thicker strands of mousse-like oil, and suspended flakes and particles of even more weathered crude, scattered in long, snaking lines.

Another denizen of these deep waters seemed better able to push above the fouled waters to breath – early in the afternoon, I saw a pygmy sperm whale (Kogia breviceps) east of the Horizon. Was this rare cetacean showing itself only because of extreme conditions?

For much of the day, we had to make a particularly dedicated effort to avoid crossing paths with seismic survey vessel GECO Topaz . The Topaz is part of BP’s tests to see if the capped wellhead is actually holding. One explanation for the inexplicably low pressure readings thus far is that oil is still leaking into other geological formations elsewhere, including perhaps the hydrocarbon seeps that dot the sea floor here in the northern Gulf.

Throughout the day I maintain hours-long point counts when we are on station, and also run strip transects when the Foster moves to a new station. But this search for any marine birds is futile. For the first time ever, I fail to see a single bird during an entire day at sea. And I have to wonder, has this petroleum wasteland driven them away?