Reader comments on sltrib.com are the opinions of the writer, not The Salt Lake Tribune. We will delete comments containing obscenities, personal attacks and inappropriate or offensive remarks. Flagrant or repeat violators will be banned. If you see an objectionable comment, please alert us by clicking the arrow on the upper right side of the comment and selecting "Flag comment as inappropriate". If you've recently registered with Disqus or aren't seeing your comments immediately, you may need to verify your email address. To do so, visit disqus.com/account.
See more about comments here.
Unique floating lab showcases ‘aliens of the sea’
Fort Lauderdale, Fla. • Researcher Leonid Moroz emerges from a dive off the Florida Keys and gleefully displays a plastic bag holding a creature that shimmers like an opal in the seawater.
This translucent animal and its similarly strange cousins are food for science. They regrow with amazing speed if they get chopped up. Some even regenerate a rudimentary brain.
"Meet the aliens of the sea," the neurobiologist at the University of Florida says with a huge grin.
They're headed for his unique floating laboratory.
Moroz is on a quest to decode the genomic blueprints of fragile marine life, like these mysterious comb jellies, in real time — on board the ship where they were caught — so he can learn which genes switch on and off as the animals perform such tasks as regeneration.
No white coats needed here. The lab is a specially retrofitted steel shipping container, able to be lifted by crane onto any ship Moroz can recruit for a scientific adventure.
Inside, researchers in flip-flops operate a state-of-the-art genomic sequencing machine secured to a tilting tabletop that bobs with rough waves. Genetic data is beamed via satellite to a supercomputer at the University of Florida, which analyzes the results in a few hours and sends it back to the boat.
The work is part conservation.
"Life came from the oceans," Moroz says, bemoaning the extinction of species before scientists even catalog all of them. "We need a Manhattan Project for biodiversity. We're losing our heritage."
Surprising as it may sound, it's part brain science.
"We cannot regenerate our brain, our spinal cord or efficiently heal wounds without scars," Moroz notes.
But some simple sea creatures can.
Moroz accidentally cuts off part of a comb jelly's flowing lower lobe while putting it into a tank. A few hours later, the wound no longer is visible. By the next afternoon, that lobe had begun to regrow.
What's more remarkable, these gelatinous animals have neurons, or nerve cells, connected in circuitry that Moroz describes as an elementary brain. Injure those neural networks and some, but not all, species of comb jellies can regenerate them, too, in three days to five days, he says, if they're in a habitat where they can survive long enough.
"Nature has found solutions to how to stay healthy," says Moroz, who also studies human brains when he's back on shore. "We need to learn how they do it. But they are so fragile, we have to do it here," at sea.
Two trial-run sails off the Florida coast showed that the shipboard lab can work. Moroz's team generated information about thousands of genes in 22 organisms, including some rare comb jellies. Moroz's ultimate goal is to take the project around the world, to remote seas where it's especially hard to preserve marine animals for study.
"If the sea can't come to the lab, the lab must come to the sea," says Moroz, who invited The Associated Press on the second test trip, a 2½-day sail.