they produced methane that ran concurrently with sulfate-reduction (Oremland and
Taylor 1978). A few years later, observations I first made with Big Soda Lake
sediments amended with methanol (Oremland et al. 1982a) led to the concept of
non-competitive substrates. Hence, sulfate-reducers would not compete with
methanogens for methanol, methylated amines (Oremland et al. 1982b; Oremland
and Polcin 1982; King 1984), or methylated sulfur compounds (Kiene et al. 1986),
while they would generally outcompete methanogens for the more plentiful H 2 and
acetate.
Yet I digress back to graduate school, circa 1974. It would be remiss of me not to
mention an event that coincided with my collection of gases bubbling out of the
seagrass beds in Bimini Harbor. Tied up at the pier next to our research vessel (R/V
Calanus; Univ. Miami) was a yacht whose occupants were engaged in making a
dubious achievement: the first underwater pornographic movie. Also tied up at that
pier was a sailboat with license plates from Boulder, Colorado (!!) whose occupants
were two parapsychologists engaged in a search for the lost continent of Atlantis
ostensibly hidden somewhere among the underwater carbonate geology of the Grand
Bahama Bank. Local TV coverage came by and focused exclusively on these two
groups. There was absolutely no interest whatsoever on their part concerning our
efforts to quantify seagrass bed nitrogen fixation rates that my good friend, Doug
Capone, was working on, let alone be impressed by the variable diurnal composition
of bubble ebullition from the mats of Thalassia testudium, a species of marine
seagrass also called turtle grass. The TV folks did recognize our presence, sort of,
in that they asked us to turn off our generator so that their interviews could proceed
more smoothly without background noise. Our chief scientist, Prof. Barrie Taylor
(academic mentor to Doug and I) just refused their request. We had research work to
do, and our instruments needed to be running.
30.3 Horror-Show, Tovarisch?!!?!
Back at RPI, I had declared a scientific curriculum rather than that of engineering.
Hence, in my freshman year, I had to take a “scientific” language in lieu of
engineering drawing. These were limited to either the study of German or Russian,
and I chose the latter. Now I should make it clear that at this point in my life,
although I liked science, I had little to make me think I would actually become a
scientist, let alone make any possible use, whatsoever, of the two semesters of
Russian I was required to pass. Indeed, I failed the second semester of the 3 credit
course, and made up for it by taking a 5 credit course given by NYU over the
summer which I did manage to pass. I had punched my course-requirement ticket in
this regard. I simply moved ahead giving little thought, except sheer relief, to the
Cryllic alphabet, the weird vowels I suffered pronouncing in the long language lab
sessions and any latent ability to converse in this most unusual and challenging
language.
30 BUBBLES in the MUD: A Reminiscence and Perspective
639
Taylor 1978). A few years later, observations I first made with Big Soda Lake
sediments amended with methanol (Oremland et al. 1982a) led to the concept of
non-competitive substrates. Hence, sulfate-reducers would not compete with
methanogens for methanol, methylated amines (Oremland et al. 1982b; Oremland
and Polcin 1982; King 1984), or methylated sulfur compounds (Kiene et al. 1986),
while they would generally outcompete methanogens for the more plentiful H 2 and
acetate.
Yet I digress back to graduate school, circa 1974. It would be remiss of me not to
mention an event that coincided with my collection of gases bubbling out of the
seagrass beds in Bimini Harbor. Tied up at the pier next to our research vessel (R/V
Calanus; Univ. Miami) was a yacht whose occupants were engaged in making a
dubious achievement: the first underwater pornographic movie. Also tied up at that
pier was a sailboat with license plates from Boulder, Colorado (!!) whose occupants
were two parapsychologists engaged in a search for the lost continent of Atlantis
ostensibly hidden somewhere among the underwater carbonate geology of the Grand
Bahama Bank. Local TV coverage came by and focused exclusively on these two
groups. There was absolutely no interest whatsoever on their part concerning our
efforts to quantify seagrass bed nitrogen fixation rates that my good friend, Doug
Capone, was working on, let alone be impressed by the variable diurnal composition
of bubble ebullition from the mats of Thalassia testudium, a species of marine
seagrass also called turtle grass. The TV folks did recognize our presence, sort of,
in that they asked us to turn off our generator so that their interviews could proceed
more smoothly without background noise. Our chief scientist, Prof. Barrie Taylor
(academic mentor to Doug and I) just refused their request. We had research work to
do, and our instruments needed to be running.
30.3 Horror-Show, Tovarisch?!!?!
Back at RPI, I had declared a scientific curriculum rather than that of engineering.
Hence, in my freshman year, I had to take a “scientific” language in lieu of
engineering drawing. These were limited to either the study of German or Russian,
and I chose the latter. Now I should make it clear that at this point in my life,
although I liked science, I had little to make me think I would actually become a
scientist, let alone make any possible use, whatsoever, of the two semesters of
Russian I was required to pass. Indeed, I failed the second semester of the 3 credit
course, and made up for it by taking a 5 credit course given by NYU over the
summer which I did manage to pass. I had punched my course-requirement ticket in
this regard. I simply moved ahead giving little thought, except sheer relief, to the
Cryllic alphabet, the weird vowels I suffered pronouncing in the long language lab
sessions and any latent ability to converse in this most unusual and challenging
language.
30 BUBBLES in the MUD: A Reminiscence and Perspective
639