Going Down The Bayou: S’18 Takeaways From The Louisiana Field Seminar

“You may never get to go back to this area and have the same opportunities that are provided to you on this trip.”

This post was written by S’18 alumna Audra DeLaney. She is studying public relations and political science at Bowling Green State University in Bowling Green, Ohio. Audra enjoys visiting the ocean, going on adventures, and telling the unique stories of the people and places around her. If you have any questions about our program, you can email her at audra.delaney@gmail.com.

Key parts of the Williams-Mystic Maritime Studies Program are the three field seminars that occur during the first half of each semester. In the fall, a class might sail off the coast of Maine, then travel to Northern California. In the spring, they might circumnavigate Puerto Rico before exploring the Pacific Northwest.

Though our West Coast and Offshore Field Seminars vary by semester, Williams-Mystic classes have had one field seminar in common for the past 14 years: Louisiana. Semester after semester, students meet people that the Williams-Mystic faculty and staff have developed close relationships with. Each class experiences firsthand what climate change is doing to our nation’s coasts and the people who live on them.

A few weeks ago, S’18 traveled to Louisiana. A number of students were deeply affected by the people we meet and the places we saw.

For University of Connecticut senior Meghan Patulak, traveling to Louisiana gave her the opportunity to see with her own eyes how climate change is affecting coastal communities.

Going into the field seminar, Meghan expected to be very emotional, moved by the stories of the local coastal community members. She felt like being able to see what the communities were dealing with, including sea level rise and environmental injustice, would impact her greatly.

“It’s one thing to study and imagine what climate change is like, but to actually see with my own two eyes how it’s affecting our people and the natural land… it was truly heartbreaking,” Meghan said. “However, while sorting through these emotions and imagining what I could do to help mitigate the horror of what is occurring, I felt an even stronger passion began to flare in my soul. I knew after hearing these people’s stories that I was going to spend the rest of my life fighting for them and fighting to preserve and cultivate the beauty of this earth.”

College of New Rochelle junior Wenting Shu expected to encounter vibrant Creole and Cajun cultures.

I also expected to learn about the rich history of architecture and food of the area,” Wenting said. “I didn’t expect to interact with the Mayor of Grand Isle nor see the amount of devastation left behind in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. I also did not expect to see the daughter of the deceased owner of the Jolly Inn Houma, La., which was more emotional than anything I expected.”

Each time a Williams-Mystic class is in Louisiana, they head to The Jolly Inn to experience Cajun dancing. Meghan said the night of Cajun dancing sticks out vividly in her memory because of how much fun it was, but also because of what happened afterwards.

“We had just departed the dance hall and my van decided to turn up the radio and belt out a few songs. At some point along the way home the professors pulled all the vans into a local Sonic to treat us to some ice cream. As this was happening, Whitney Houston’s “I Just Want To Dance With Somebody” came blaring out of the aux and my entire van began to sing along with the lyrics at the top of our lungs,” Meghan said. “The entire block probably heard us singing. The reason this sticks out so much to me is how happy, free and full of bliss I felt. It was one of those moments where the negativity of the world went away for a bit and everyone was living in the present moment with one another.”

Meghan said it felt like the past and future dissipated and the only thing that mattered was soaking up every last moment of that memory.

For Wenting, the memory of Louisiana that sticks out was arriving at the Mississippi River levee on the first day.

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S’18 sits on a Mississippi River levee in Kenner, La. as oceanographer Rachel Scudder describes the geology of the area.

“I was also deeply affected by hearing the local residents talk about the loss of their homes and their jobs due to hurricanes and sea level rise,” Wenting said. “The more the residents talked and described their losses, the more overwhelming the feelings became. To see so much resilience and strength in these people was heartbreaking but also made me more driven to help rebuild their community.”

As she approaches graduation, Meghan believes this trip to Louisiana could not have come at a better time.

“I have always had an intense passion for saving the environment and protecting all those that live within it,” Meghan said. “I was able to understand that I’m on the right track in life as I transition into my next life chapter post-graduation. It’s exciting to find what sets your soul on fire. I felt that I had purpose for once and know the work I have put in over the years isn’t going to waste.”

Wenting was left in awe by how history, ecology, and policy all intertwined in Louisiana.

“It made me think critically and it motivated me to want to work with residents and scientists to help lessen the damage of future natural disasters on the communities in southern Louisiana.”  

Meghan gave some advice to future Williams-Mystic students about how to approach this field seminar.

“Talk to everyone you are able to meet, hang with your professors, go night fishing even if you’re tired, swim in the Gulf Coast, eat that weird gator sausage, dance your heart out at the Cajun dance hall, lend a helping hand… just experience everything you possibly can,” Meghan said. “You may never get to go back to this area and have the same opportunities that are provided to you on this trip.”

If a future Williams-Mystic student is reading this, Wenting also has this to say to you:

“Every student takes away something from this interactive learning experience, and it is going to impact you for the rest of your life.”

Hands-on Learning, Interdisciplinary Connections, and Lifelong Impacts: Two Spring ’17 Students Reflect on Their Williams-Mystic Experience

“I always thought that becoming a researcher was the only way I could make an impact. Williams-Mystic showed me that you can find meaningful ways to engage your interests wherever you go.”

By Meredith Carroll, Assistant Director of Admissions and Director of Social Media

When Paul Butera, a sophomore studying geology at the University of Puget Sound, arrived at Williams-Mystic in January 2017, he “didn’t really have a plan” for life after college. His classmate Emma McCauley, by contrast, was certain she would continue on to graduate school after completing her marine biology degree at Stony Brook University the following fall. At different stages in their education, Paul and Emma nevertheless share a love for the ocean. Paul spent the summer of 2016 working at a salmon fishery in Alaska; Emma has years of experience volunteering with Oceana and the New York Aquarium. By S’17’s thirteenth week at Williams-Mystic, when they sat down for an interview with Science Teaching Assistant Hannah Whalen and Assistant Director of Admissions Meredith Carroll, Paul and Emma agreed that their experiences here had altered their views on the ocean, on conservation and on how to carry their passion for both forward into their lives after Williams-Mystic.

What experiences did you have before you got here that made you invested in protecting the ocean?

Paul: In Alaska, you can see that the oceans are warming: that it’s 14 degrees warmer where you’re fishing, and you’re getting fewer fish. Seeing that in the real world and then coming here and reading about it has been fascinating.

Emma: I’ve always tried to advocate for the ocean. But the event that made it concrete for me was Hurricane Sandy. I lived close to places that got utterly destroyed. Knowing that climate change caused this storm and that things like this will likely happen more frequently in the future reminded me how important environmental work and study are in the real world.

How has Williams-Mystic changed the way you think about your major? Has it changed your worldview?

Emma: Williams-Mystic has shifted my perspective away from just looking at the ocean as a scientific system to be studied. It’s made me realize that to be an effective steward of the ocean, you can’t push aside the people who need it to survive.

Paul: I’ve realized that the interdisciplinary parts of the ocean are what make it special. An example from the Pacific Northwest Field Seminar: I go to school right there. Yet I had to go to the East Coast and come back in order to appreciate all that happens there. I also really liked the Louisiana Field Seminar. I’d never been to the South, and it was a completely new experience for me. I found it similar to Alaska because oil and fisheries drive both place’s economies. Yet there were drastically different views of how those things should be managed. It’s a different society based off the same things, which was really interesting for me.

Emma: I definitely think my worldview has changed. I’m lucky to have come from an environmentally conscious place, and my love of the ocean has made my views [on environmental issues] very black and white. My college education has reinforced that. But this program [teaches you] that these problems aren’t black and white. It makes you think about the social justice issues involved. Being a steward of the ocean doesn’t mean you can’t also be a voice for people who need it.  The most challenging thing about Williams-Mystic has been understanding that your beliefs may not always be right and challenging yourself to look at all the information out there before you come to a conclusion.

How have your classmates’ perspectives and backgrounds changed your experience here?

Emma: We learn from each other. One of the greatest things about Williams-Mystic is that I’m a marine biology major, but that doesn’t mean I’m better suited for even the science class than anyone else. All the different perspectives make it the interdisciplinary program it is.

Paul: I’m going to steal something Nickie Mitch (Bowdoin ‘18) said during the Pacific Northwest trip when we went to Powell’s Books. I was expecting everyone to go to similar sections of the store but we all spread out. Everyone has a different passion, but we’re all tied together by our fascination with the ocean.

What will you take back to your home campus?

Paul: I think what I’ll take away is the interdisciplinary part of [Williams-Mystic]. If someone brings something up, I’m able to identify how it ties into the ocean, or this issue, or that policy. I may not be an expert, but I look forward to being a resource and an advocate for studying the ocean.

Emma:  I’ll also be more willing to step outside my comfort zone. Before I started this program, I was worried about getting seasick. I didn’t foresee myself performing chanteys for museum visitors. I didn’t think I would feel comfortable doing either of those things. But I’m doing them now and it’s not a big deal anymore.

What about Williams-Mystic do you think will stick with you 10 years from now?

Paul: Definitely the field seminars. Moving around, having a full-body experience and learning about it at the same time is incredible, and really ingrains whatever you’re learning about.

Emma: I’ve learned that there are more doors open than you may realize. I always thought I would go right to grad school and become a researcher, because it was the only way I thought I could make an impact. Williams-Mystic showed me that’s not true. It made me see that you can find meaningful ways to engage whatever interests you have wherever you go.

12 of Williams-Mystic’s Most Unique Experiences

Post by Katrina Orthmann, Williams-Mystic Class of Fall 2017 (University of Minnesota ’19)

Photography by Jesse Edwards and Haley Kardek (Williams-Mystic F’17)

 

Students wave while furling a sail aboard a tall ship.

 

  1. Climbing aloft on a tall ship.

Our 10-day Offshore Field Seminar was incredible – like something out of a pirate movie, but with less violence. One of the coolest experiences was climbing aloft to the top of the mast. The adrenaline of being a hundred feet in the air and the simultaneous serenity of looking out across the crinkled surface of the open water is a feeling like no other.

Students dance the cajun two-step in a Louisiana dance hall.
Fall 2017 shows off their dance skills at the Jolly Inn.
  1. Spending a night waltzing at a Cajun dance hall.

We spent one evening in Houma, Louisiana at the Jolly Inn, a traditional Cajun dance hall. Our history professor, Glenn, is a fantastic dancer and taught us the Cajun two-step and a basic waltz step. I’ve never considered myself a very good dancer—at age three I took a dance class that consisted of me lying on the floor while the other tutu-clad girls danced around me—but that night was one of my favorite experiences.

 

Students and an instructor work in a shipsmith's forge.

 

  1. Learning to shipsmith.

Some of my classmates took shipsmithing as their maritime skill for the semester, which is insanely cool—or rather incredibly hot, since you’re working in a forge. My friend Alissa told me that wielding the hammer is difficult, but that it’s satisfying to graduate to a bigger hammer. The instructor, Bill, reportedly knows when you’re ready. “It’s time,” he’ll say, and your arm will ache, but you’ll come away with metal hooks, bottle openers, and bicep muscles galore.

  1. Kayaking down the Mystic River to look for fiddler crabs for your science project.

So many awesome science projects were done this semester, one of which was a survey of fiddler crabs in the area. They haven’t been found in the area until recently, so the study was very interesting. Plus, who doesn’t want an excuse to kayak down the river on a beautiful day? Just make sure to bring your foul weather gear… the mud in the Mystic River is no joke!

  1. Learning to sail a small boat by yourself.

I came into the program intending to learn how to sail, so I chose the basic watercraft skills class as my maritime skill. The weather this semester was perfect for sailing; being out on the water on a crisp fall afternoon, with a light breeze blowing and the sun warming your face, is amazing. I even finished the semester with an award: the first (and only) person in the class to capsize! I’d like to re-emphasize that the mud in the Mystic River is no joke.

  1. Seeing the program director dressed up as Moby Dick, the infamous white whale, on the morning your paper is due.

I vividly remember standing in the kitchen around 8:30 in the morning, making coffee, enjoying the peaceful silence and getting ready to turn in my Moby-Dick paper, and suddenly there was a loud pounding on the door. A blur of white moved past the window as I flung the door open, and I saw this giant… whale-type… thing… sprinting across the yard. It was Tom Van Winkle himself (our Executive Director) dressed as the white whale!

  1. Helping reconstruct the Mayflower II in the shipyard.

My roommate, Monica, worked in the shipyard for her student job, and she got to help reconstruct the Mayflower II, a replica of the 17th-century ship Mayflower. What a cool thing, to have helped restore a tall ship!

  1. Singing sea chanteys aboard the Charles W. Morgan, the world’s last remaining wooden whaling ship.

Another maritime skill some of my classmates took was Chantey-Singing. My friend Kyra and I were both in sailing, but we stopped by chanteys to sing a few times, sometimes aboard the Charles W. Morgan. We learned some great chanteys, which led to the creation of a chantey playlist on Spotify and more than a few chantey karaoke sessions.

  1. Listening to a lecture backed by the sound of waves in California.

One of the best things about the field seminars was that we got to have lectures in places we learned about. While in California, we learned about John Steinbeck’s Cannery Row at the actual Cannery Row and about shipping in the San Francisco Bay while we sat overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge. We discussed the ecology of the intertidal at Point Lobos as we watched the waves crash into rocky cliffs below ; we talked about the marine policy at Pescadero Beach while the sun set in the background.

  1. Learning traditional sailor skills in Squad.

Another maritime skill class some of my classmates did was Demonstration Squad, which actually involved multiple skills. They did everything from rowing a whaleboat to climbing aloft on tall ships to skinning a cod (which they then made into a stew for dinner that night). They also performed a rescue drill called Breeches Buoy, so called because of the pair of breeches used as a “buoy” to rescue people from shipwrecks. It was so fun to watch, and looked even more fun to perform!

  1. Sifting through primary documents for your history research paper.

The Collections Research Center at the Seaport contains millions of primary documents from sailors and ships throughout maritime history, many of which can’t be found anywhere else. In the process of doing research for our history projects, we’ve come across some firsthand accounts of life at sea and of historical events. It’s so cool to have all this and more at our fingertips.

  1. Spending the semester surrounded by a small group of amazing classmates and professors, immersed in this incredible program.

Williams-Mystic is truly one-of-a-kind. I stumbled across the program by coincidence and was on the fence about applying—I didn’t know if it was realistic or if it would be worth it. But if you’re reading this and trying to decide whether or not to apply, my advice to you is that it is so, so worth it. The people I’ve met here have become some of my best friends and all of the faculty and staff are so kind, caring, and passionate about what they do. I’ve learned so much about the maritime world and about myself. I’ve gotten so much out of this experience and I would encourage everyone to participate in a program this special.

 

Reflections on Southern Louisiana

Southern Louisiana is eroding. New Orleans will one day be underwater. Yet for residents, the bayou is not just a geographical location; it is fundamentally tied to communities and ways of life that cannot be transported.

By Muriel Leung, S’17 (University of Pennsylvania ’19)  

LUMCON, Cocodrie

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Sunset on the salt marshes surrounding LUMCON. Photo by Muriel Leung.

Stilt houses grew taller and taller, more stilt than house, as we sped down Highway 56 through the delicate web of the Mississippi River Delta toward the water. In Cocodrie, flooding is part of the way of life.

A tower-topped complex rose from the bayou like a fortress: LUMCON, the Louisiana Universities Marine Consortium, our home base for two nights. There, we were treated to a crawfish boil: crawfish, sausage, baked potatoes, corn, and mushrooms, which we ate to the point of nausea. We danced the two-step and waltz to Craig’s fiddle—small tastes of Louisiana.

After sunset, we went to the river to fish. Like mythical creatures, the alligators lurked in our imaginations but out of sight. Walking back, a Porsche sleeping in the driveway reminded us that we were visitors who could, at the end of the day, drive away from the bayou’s problems.       

Grand Isle

Mayor David Camardelle and Town Supervisor Chris Hernandez
Grand Isle Beach
The shores of Grand Isle, where flooding and storms have already eroded sand bags and other protective measures installed last fall. Photo by Muriel Leung.

The 2010 Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill in the Gulf spilled 4 million barrels of oil into the Gulf of Mexico. The oil poisoned marine life and suffocated Grand Isle’s shore with tar. In 2005, Hurricanes Katrina and Rita devastated the island less than a month apart.

Families come to the Mayor Camardelle asking, “Where will we go now?” and he tells them, “You’ve got yourself and you’ve got your family,” but cannot answer. The mayor cried as he talked to us and our Chris Hernandez threw an arm around his shoulder.

On the shore’s sands, they drew designs for rock jetties to protect the islands. Environmental activists from distant places—perhaps people like us—protest these jetties, which would upset local bird populations. The mayor asked us, “Is it worth it to save a small population of birds if a whole community is lost?”

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Chief Shirell Parfait-Dardar of the Grand Caillou/Dulac Band of Biloxi-Chitimacha-Choctaw Indians
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Chief Shirell Parfait Dardar describes how floods and storms are imperiling her community’s lands–and how an arduous tribal recognition process has complicated their efforts to prepare for a changing climate. 

She spoke of their twenty years fighting for federal tribal recognition, and another expected twenty years more: gathering detailed documentation of their tribal history and tradition, like cataloguing the grains of sand on a beach. Before the internet took off and sometimes even now, they have to travel as far as Texas to gather information. There is no guarantee of success.

“We keep fighting because we have no choice.”

Chief Shirell was young for a chief, thirty-something, with long black hair down to her waist and paralegal training. Her ancestors had chosen her, she said, to bridge the divide between generations. She’d already identified her heir when he was twelve. He was studying engineering. “We want them to go off and get educated. But ultimately he has to come back home.”

She took us to her people’s graveyard. Graves, uprooted by hurricanes and storms, stood completely above ground like they were waiting for us to recover them. The graveyard was packed too tightly for dignity. The chief leaned against her father’s grave and touched his picture.

They planned to create more cemetery space to honor their dead, but if the ocean submerged the site, then they would mark it with a floating memorial. That way, families would be able to ride out in boats to visit. “We’re not giving up. But we have a backup plan in case things don’t work out.”

As we left, we drove through a gated community called Southern Comfort that sat on land once belonging to the tribe. Bulkheads, which the tribe’s people lacked, protected the shiny, untouched mansions and pleasure boats that could easily be packed up and jetted away from this eroding, fragile, and vibrant place that will almost certainly one day be underwater.     

Thoughts from Mystic

Southern Louisiana is eroding. New Orleans will one day be underwater.  Bulkheads and levees will not stop the rising sea level or the hurricanes that come more and more insistently. Everyone: the Biloxi-Chitimacha-Choctaw Indians, the Cocodrie Cajuns, the summer-vacationers—everyone except perhaps Port Fourchon pitting oil money against nature—will one day have to leave.

Yet imagine Chief Shirell or Mayor Camardelle telling their people the fight is lost, and that they must pack up and move. For them, the bayou is not just a geographical location; it is fundamentally tied to communities and ways of life that cannot be transported.

We must do something for the diverse people of Southern Louisiana so closely tied to the land. We cannot lie that the bayou will be there forever or that one more rock jetty will be the answer. But we must protect what remains for as long as we can in as sustainable a way we can, while educating the region’s next generation and allowing them to make their own decisions about their futures.


Muriel Leung, a physics major attending University of Pennsylvania, attended Williams-Mystic in Spring 2017. In addition to conducting climate research, Muriel enjoys creative writing; she edits and contributes to IMPACT, a student magazine at Penn that focuses on social justice-inspired topics. 

EnGULFed in Learning: Louisiana Field Seminar

Apologies to my loyal following of readers, all seven of you, for the great delay in posting this. The second half of the semester certainly picks up! Since our return, my peers and I been have been busy hunched over the tables in the Collections Research Center analyzing primary sources for our history papers, tending science projects, calling experts for their insights as we write marine policy research papers and finishing the epic Moby Dick.  But enough apologies and excuses…to the adventure!

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We landed in New Orleans and made haste toward the French Quarter for a walking tour to learn about the history and literary legacy that saturates every door and corner. We were set free for lunch, which for most included beignets. After strolling through the pulsing city center, we boarded the Natchez, New Orleans’ last true steamboat, for a ride on the Mississippi. The Big Muddy was as big and muddy as advertised. Floating on the mighty river and being able to look down on the roofs of homes below the river level revealed the true need for levees.

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Full steam ahead to the Natchez!

We visited the Living with Hurricanes: Katrina and Beyond exhibit at the Louisiana State Museum, which integrates personal narratives from the storm alongside stirring images and information to help convey the profoundly devastating impacts of this disaster and its legacy in New Orleans and the nation. Understanding damage wrought by Katrina is essential moving forward to adequately prepare for future disasters to ensure a swift and just response.

From there, we rolled toward the Acme Oyster House. It was a rather loud affair and many of among us tried their hand slurping down oysters. We vegetarians relished in the salad, side options and large ice-cream sundaes.

The next day found us at Louisiana Universities Marine Consortium (lovingly known as LUMCON) in Cochodrie. After a short orientation, we donned our sacrificial clothing and launched kayaks and canoes into the marsh. As we floated near the docks, Marlo and Lizzie sensed something was amiss with their brand new kayak. After a chorus of admonishment to just keep going, it became clear that they indeed were headed for the silty bottom. Expertly, they maneuvered the sinking vessel toward the dock and scrambled to safety. Removing the waterlogged kayak revealed a large crack in the side. Our brave survivors stood on the dock pumping their fists shouting “Not today, Gulf, not today!” (Not sure if that last sentence is really how it went down…but please imagine something dramatic if you will).

After Marlo and Lizzie were assigned an intact kayak, we all set out for the salt marsh for a morning of science and squelching through the mud. This was truly a rubber boots on the ground operation. Mike led a brief snail counting activity. the core of our visit to the marsh was to take a sediment sample. Using a massive tube apparatus assembled from home depot parts, ahem I mean a very serious piece of equipment, we drilled into the sediment. Students showed muscle lowering and lifting the tube through thirty feet of sediment.

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Nicola (CUNY-Hunter ’16) and her trusty boot observe from a safe distance.
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We’ve got to hand it to Chelsea (URI ’17) for her hard work on the core!
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Together, we “core”dinate the movement of the core. Back at LUMCON, we sawed it in half and examined the layers!

Back at LUMCOM, we cut open the core to read the layers. In engaging with the core, we discussed the geological role of the Mississippi. The Mississippi River has been delivering sediment to the Southern Gulf for thousands of years, spreading it in “lobes.” The location of delivery shifts slowly over time and the River delivers its sediment elsewhere. Devastating flood events like the Great Mississippi Flood of 1927 also inspired the hardening of the river, which means that it can no longer deliver its fertile sediment to the regions that once relied on that input. Louisiana is truly the epicenter for climate change, losing land a frightening rate due the compounding factors of land subsidence and sea level rise.

Following a delicious gumbo lunch, we traveled down the road to speak with an oyster business owner. As she spoke about the ins and outs of running a business, we saw several boats dock and unload tremendous piles of oysters.

We spent the evening twirling and twisting and getting dizzy at the Jolly Inn. We came away a little breathless from hours of dancing to the sounds of the Couche Couche band. I’ll let the blurred photos speak for themselves:

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Jolly indeed! The Jolly Inn was declared the “official dancehall of Williams-Mystic Maritime Studies Program!”

In spite of the night of dancing, we all managed to rise early the next morning to set out for our visit to Grand Isle. On the long drive, we looked over the submerged roads leading to Port Fourchon, an oil hub responsible for receiving a considerable percentage of the nation’s oil. Conversations about oil in Southern Louisiana carry a cruel irony. Many lives and local economies are intimately tied to oil drilling and the associated industries, yet the burning of fossil fuels is contributing to the rising seas that are gnawing at the Gulf Coast, submerging a football field of Louisiana’s land every hour. How to reconcile the importance of oil in the economy and the environmental impacts remains a difficult question that this field seminar encourages us to ruminate upon. As students of the ocean and future educators, scientists, artists, lawyers and citizens, we must know and understand where our energy comes from and the impacts that our consumption has on coastal communities.

After seeing the industrial, austere Port Fouchon, we traveled through low-lying marsh toward Grand Isle. Chris Hernandez, a town official and friend of the program, met us to give us an intimate orientation on this barrier island which is truly on the front lines of storms, rising sea level and oil spills. Since being ravaged by Hurricane Katrina and the Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill, Grand Isle has rebuilt and rebounded. Mr. Hernandez presented a passionate plea that Grand Isle continue to receive federal and state funding to stave off the waves. It was a sobering moment to see the tangible and dramatic impacts of coastal erosion as we stood above a recently constructed beach access point that led into the sea,. Mr. Hernandez welcomed us into his home, more specifically his “Man Cave,” to meet his delightful family for a lunch celebration. Many of us walked away sincerely impressed by the resiliency of the community and touched by the generosity of our host. On the macro-scale, many us are conflicted by the future of developed barrier islands. Katy, our marine policy professor, encouraged us to think critically about the social and policy considerations in this case, and we have continued to ponder these important issues back in Mystic.

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Chris Hernandez, a Grand Isle town official, opened his home to Williams-Mystic

We could not leave Grand Isle without a visit to the beach to hear about the history and marine biology of the region, and, of course, the canonical literary work of Kate Chopin’s The Awakening. To be in a place and read a work written a century before about that location is a unique opportunity. Of course, the faculty could not lecture without letting us explore the shore.

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Marlo, Jessica, Lizzie & Thomas shore look like they’re having fun!
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Cloey (College of New Rochelle ’16), Lizzie (Millersville ’18) and Amelia (Williams ’17) were just trying to saw hello!

 

In the evening, it was a crawfish extravaganza:

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Examining the feast…
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And so it begins…
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Thomas (San Francisco State ’15) and his crawfish

We began our final morning with one of ZAM’s world famous Swamp Tours. Bayou’ve got to see this to believe it. We soon said later, alligator (yes, we saw several alligators!) to Zam’s and were on our way.

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Unfortunately, we did not have a chance to hear from the environmental justice speaker planned for the afternoon because of inclement weather. Williams-Mystic Spring 16 has been eager to continue the conversation and engage with issues of environmental justice in Southern Louisiana. Field seminars offer an opportunity to engage with different perspectives and new environments, and it is inspiring to see my peers so invested in enhancing the experience suggestions about how to further integrate issues of issues of race, class and gender into the curriculum.

Our short visit to Louisiana was brimming with Mississippi River mud, crawfish, discussion about climate change and exposure to new ideas. I am writing this during “Climate Week” at the Mystic campus, so, of course, the Gulf Coast field seminar is weighing heavily on our minds.

 

We may be done with the field seminars, but please check in soon for updates about life here in Mystic.

Life on the Dynamic Edge: The Mississippi Delta Field Seminar

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We’ve done it! Our third and final field seminar is complete, and like Kate Chopin, who aptly characterized the very region we visited in her novel The Awakening, we have also been truly “awakened” by the experience in southern Louisiana. In contrast to Puerto Rico and the Pacific Northwest, this trip focused on the people of the area, perhaps because they provide the most accurate understanding of how difficult it is to be certain of our role with respect to nature on a coastline that is so rapidly changing. As Professor Ronadh Cox put it in our first lecture series upon arrival, down here the edge where land meets sea is “soft and squishy” rather than the hardened stone faces of the cliffs we regarded with awe in the Pacific Northwest.

More stationary than usual, we settled in for our short four-day stay at the Louisiana University Marine Consortium (LUMCON), a rectangular building perched on concrete pillars and the center for coastal and estuarine studies. With LUMCON as our base, we traveled into the bayou with a spirited Cajun tour guide to see the alligators and red-eared sliders sunning themselves in the vegetation on the banks (yes, we did see sun – if only for the day). We listened to our professors give mini-lectures on the historic use and current state of the Mississippi River as we ate lunch on the levee that prevents the river from draining into the sinking land where people have made their homes. We kayaked out into the marsh to watch bemusedly as Sheick sunk into the thick mud up to his knees while helping Dr. Sam Bentley from LSU (and a Williams-Mystic alumnus!) collect a core sample.

Perhaps the most memorable moments were those that allowed us to immerse ourselves in the culture for which this region is so well-known. One evening we trekked to Houma, where we visited the Jolly Inn for some Cajun dancing. Glenn Gordinier spun us around the room with as much ease as our denim-adorned hosts who had been dancing for thirty years; my classmates Julia and Hannah immediately took it upon themselves to accompany the music of the fiddle and the banjo with washboards struck with whisks as they danced.

On another occasion we spent the day with Mr. Chris Hernandez on Grand Isle – the site of Chopin’s novel. With a booming voice and contagious laugh, Mr. Chris took us on a tour of the narrow strip of land that is the disappearing barrier protecting New Orleans from the wrath of the sea. He graciously invited us to his home, offering stories of Hurricane Katrina and his experiences with the BP oil spill that struck the Gulf with so much force. We even had a visit from the mayor of Grand Isle, whose emotional reminder of the importance of human life in an area consistently battered with dangerous storms left few dry eyes in the audience.

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Back at LUMCON on our last evening, we listened to Mr. Carl Sevin describe the effects of living on land that is being slowly but steadily overtaken by water. His words resonated with us as we left Cocodrie to head to the Big Easy: “I’m a grown man, but I will cry if I see my house destroyed.”

Our final morning brought us to the French Quarter in New Orleans in the torrential downpour of a thunderstorm and our lunch onboard the steamship Natchez ended the trip on a positive note. however, we were all greatly affected by everything that we had seen and heard. As we drove over raised highways throughout these four days, we could see the roads below us being covered by the spreading expanses of water in the endless marshes, roads that past Mystic programs had traveled as little as four years ago. We learned of the complicated relationship between the oil industry at Port Fourchon, which has a huge monopoly on the economy of southern Louisiana, and the people who have become wholly dependent on it despite the adverse effects to both nature and lifestyle. Most importantly, the uncertainty of the future of the area proved a theme in every discussion.

Personally, it was difficult for me to imagine that the next time I visit, I will undoubtedly be able to witness the changes that have occurred as a result of the dynamic environment…the land completely gone in many areas, the levees built higher, the cypress trees sinking just a little bit more. I am incredibly grateful for the awareness I gained of the very special culture that has become a fixture in this place—the music, the food, the language, and, most of all, the resilience of the people that all mesh to render Louisiana incredibly unique.

Fair Winds,

Alex

Mississippi River Delta Field Seminar: A Muddy Account of Bayous, Beignets, and Beaches.

ImageI write now the final report of our travels as Williams-Mystic S’13 students. The time has flown by at an unimaginable speed, and our final journey has brought us closer than ever. We are also even more grateful for the experiences that Williams-Mystic provides: we have been back from Louisiana for about a week now, and the time to cease conversations about the experiences we shared there is nowhere in sight. Our class still shares laughs over the looks on our professor’s faces as they held snakes and baby alligators at Zam’s in Kraemer on the Bayou Boeuf, wax nostalgic over pictures from our Cajun Dancing excursion, and speak passionately about the ethical and political issues we encountered during our time on Grand Isle on the Gulf of Mexico.

After a long first day of travel, we made our way to our hosts for the remainder of the trip, the Louisiana Universities Marine Consortium (LUMCON), for dinner and to settle into our dorm-style rooms in Cocodrie, which is approximately 85 miles southwest of New Orleans. LUMCON provided us with a home base as well as our first introduction to real Louisiana style home cooking—biscuits and grits were staples during mealtime, as well as some very charismatic crawfish for dinner and fresh fish caught by our classmate Morgan!

LUMCON is situated directly on a marsh, which is perfect for studying the “lobes of Louisiana,” or the areas most directly affected by the shaping of the Mississippi Delta rivers, channels, plains and marshes. To better understand this dynamic landmass, Sam Bently, a Williams-Mystic graduate and professor at LSU, led us through the sampling of a vertical core of the marsh sediment using a vibracore, which gathered sediment samples from 3 to 5 meters below surface.

Our next excursion was to Grand Isle, with a stop at Port Fourchon, which supports half of the drilling activity in the Gulf and 75% of all deep water production on over 1,2000 developed acres of land. Our brief stop here was highlighted by a quick lecture by Katy Hall on the Deepwater Horizon oil spill of 2010 and its impact on Port Fourchon and surrounding areas. We quickly piled back into the vans and arrived at Grand Isle, where Mr. Chris Hernandez, a Grand Isle town official, gave us a guided tour of the area with a stop at his home to meet his family. The day was capped by lectures on local author Kate Chopin, a literature lab at Grand Isle State Park, a quick dip in the Gulf, and free time on the beach.

Our final day brought us to New Orleans, where we had free time to explore the French Quarter after being shown the historic and state-wide landmarks on a walking tour by our history professor. Fresh beignets (an incredible powdered donut and New Orleans specialty) were enjoyed, pictures were taken, and we even had a ride on the Mississippi River on an old-fashioned steam sternwheeler, the Natchez!

After an action-packed trip, a nice long weekend helped us recover some much-needed sleep and classes began as usual Monday morning. Although the travel has ended, the days are longer and adventure waits at every corner here at Mystic Seaport.

Fair Winds,

Leah