"It is advisable to look from the tide pool to the stars and then back to the tide pool again."
—John Steinbeck, The Log from the Sea of Cortez
Living in California is quite different from living anywhere else in the United States. We have a former movie star for a governor; everything is always time-delayed, though Californians are ingenious at figuring out the results of an event before it is even broadcast on the West Coast; we don't allow smoking indoors, anywhere, which is something that the East Coast could learn from us; and we live in a unique environment, providing a critical link between humans and the Pacific Ocean. Hundreds of miles of coastline allow economic, artistic, and scientific connections that have endured for decades, yet far too many Californians do not realize just what an idyllic, yet fragile situation they occupy, on the periphery of the largest body of water on Earth.
Allison at Laguna Beach
Since second grade, I have been fascinated by the zone between land and water, the area commonly known as the intertidal zone. Full of tide pools, visible only for that brief period of time between full low tide and perhaps a half hour before and after low tide, the intertidal zone has its own unique creatures, both flora and fauna. At one time, the tide pools were in danger of becoming extinct, primarily due to over-harvesting of animals by over-enthusiastic tourists. Strict environmental laws, and a raised level of consciousness provided by marine specialists and park rangers, have led to a flourishing intertidal zone once again.
As an amateur marine biologist with a special interest in tide pools, I have spent countless hours watching the ebb and flow of life in the pools in Laguna Beach, California, near my home. Heisler Park, right near Main Beach in the heart of Laguna Beach, is an ideal spot for observing tide pools despite the fact that it is in the most heavily visited tourist area of the city. Most tourists are respectful of nature and visit the pools with caution—caution that probably stems as much from a fear of falling from the rocky shoreline into the frigid waters of the Pacific Ocean as from a spirit of conservation. Fortunately, nature has provided the tide pools with a sort of buffer from curious visitors, since the pools at Laguna Beach are only truly visible for about an hour and a half twice a day, at full low tide. Thus, visitors determined to view the pools must check up on the tides.
The California shoreline
The Heisler Park tidal pools are a perfect example of how nature allows a person to be alone even in a crowd of tourists. Whether visiting at sunset or in the middle part of the day, it is possible to perch on the edge of a rock outcropping, gaze off into the brilliant azure of the Pacific, and step away from the crowds of tourists, as well as natives, clustered around Main Beach. Gradually, the sounds of nature outweigh those of humankind, as the crash of the surf against the rocks becomes the tick-tock of the Earth's alarm clock.
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A tide pool
The tidal pool that I chose for this project has always appealed to me, primarily because it is a bit further out than some of the other areas. Since it is located nearer the actual breaker line, it has an even more limited viewing period, and spends a great deal of time in the splash zone, with swells flooding the area around the pool more frequently. Fortunately, there is a large rock outcropping that allows me to sit and observe without fighting the tug of the tide. I chose a one-meter-by-one-meter area to observe since it would not be feasible to observe the entire tide pool. Once, I visited "my" tide pool about two hours after high tide and discovered that it was necessary to wade through waist-high water in order to reach the site. Tide pool creatures have an amazing stamina and adaptability to their environment; they will continue to survive and thrive as long as humans leave them to their own devices.
Despite their adaptability, tide pools, and in fact the entire ocean, are quite susceptible to the whims of humankind. Storm drain runoff after a significant rain can raise bacterial counts at the coast for weeks, closing beaches to swimmers for as long as a month. Erosion from major Pacific storms can completely alter the shape of the coastline, destroying one beach and forming a new one in a matter of days. El Niño weather patterns can cause ocean water temperatures to drop, which can completely alter the meteorological patterns of California and change feeding patterns for much of the native marine life. Even the changing of the seasons may cause ambient ocean temperatures to fall. Thus, the formation of my twofold hypothesis for this expedition depends on the flux of the temperatures of the ocean, as well as the resultant change in bacterial counts.
Biodiversity inside a tide pool
My hypothesis, simply stated, is that ocean bacterial counts will decline proportionately with falling ocean water temperatures. At the threshold of winter, this seemed to be an ideal time to test my theory that bacterial counts will decline as the water temperature falls. I further predict that as bacterial counts decline, tidal pool marine life will increase. As a result, these changes in bacterial counts will be inversely related to the abundance of tidal pool marine life. Certainly bacterial counts can rise and fall due to a number of causes, triggered primarily by the presence of humans. However, as we move closer to winter, and as the ocean water temperature drops, I expect to see a distinct increase in both the quantity and quality of marine life due to the fall in bacteria.
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