Carving a path through oceans of data

For as long as I can remember, the natural world, particularly the interface between land and sea, has captivated me. Growing up on the edge of Sydney’s Garigal National Park, my childhood was spent bushwalking, exploring, climbing and sharing my backyard with an array of native wildlife – from the quiet visits of wombats and echidnas to dramatic encounters with snakes and the occasional bushfire evacuation. These early experiences shaped my deep-seated love for the environment.

When I wasn’t playing sport or exploring my extended backyard, I was in the water, surfing or involved with the local surf lifesaving club. These activities instilled in me a profound connection to the ocean. Like being deep in the bush, surrounded by only the sounds of nature, I’d look forward to quiet moments in the surf – nothing but the sound of waves breaking and the thrill of riding them. In the end, it was a natural step to combine these loves, leading me to complete a Bachelor of Environmental Science, majoring in marine ecology, at the University of New South Wales. 

A dual approach 

I thoroughly enjoyed my time at university, in particular all the field-based classes I took, but it was my Honours year that cemented my path. I thrived on the research focus and the camaraderie of my peers. I found immense support in working alongside fellow budding scientists and loved the experience of undertaking science independently. This positive experience spurred me directly into a PhD with Professor Iain Suthers and Dr Mark Baird, working in estuarine ecology with many weeks of field work based at Smiths Lake, on the mid-north coast of New South Wales. 

My PhD was a fascinating blend of data collection and modelling. I spent many weeks in the field but just as many building biogeochemical models in MATLAB. I genuinely enjoyed the mix of testing ideas in the field and then constructing models to better understand the underlying processes on my computer. This dual approach felt incredibly natural; I was given an Apple IIe computer as a child and spent countless hours learning to code in Applesoft BASIC. Looking back, it seems inevitable that I’d eventually be drawn to projects involving programming. While many people might detest being stuck in front of a computer all the time (I did at times too), I was lucky that the Sydney Institute of Marine Science was founded during my PhD, and I have fond memories of spending days on end programming and writing my thesis overlooking Sydney Harbour. Those days were fantastic, as we regularly went swimming in the Harbour or walking around the headlands at lunch time.

The ocean’s unmistakable call 

A pivotal moment came during my PhD when I volunteered for 14 days at sea on Australia’s Marine National Facility, the RV Southern Surveyor. Two weeks spent in close quarters with 19 other scientists and crew working 12-hour shifts sorting slimy net samples might sound horrible – but I thrived. I loved being in the middle of nowhere with nothing but horizon all around. It was only then that I truly appreciated all the different colours of the ocean, and it made me start to wonder again about what was happening below the surface. This experience unexpectedly steered my career onto a new course, rekindling my deep interest in the ocean’s vastness and mysteries; however, I would have wait for a time before embarking on this new path. Besides, I had a PhD to finish. So, I got back to it. 

After submitting my PhD a year later, I took a position with the New South Wales Government’s Estuaries and Coast team. Working more closely with the policy side of science was a new experience for me. It was insightful to see how scientific findings translated into real-world management decisions. However, I soon realised I was missing the dedicated research focus of academia, and that call from the open ocean was growing louder. Thankfully, an opportunity arose for a postdoc in biological oceanography, bringing me back to the University of New South Wales. This period saw me at sea many more times, studying plankton, fish, ocean currents and eddies. The biological oceanography community in Australia was relatively small back then, fostering close collaborations. One of my most significant connections was with Professor Anthony Richardson; we shared a deep fascination with how oceanographic processes influenced the plankton community. This collaboration blossomed, leading to numerous research voyages, working groups, multiple ARC grants and, eventually, my move to The University of Queensland and CBCS.

Bridging worlds: Data science for conservation 

Moving to UQ meant a temporary shift to working remotely from Sydney for family reasons, a transition that became surprisingly common when COVID-19 lockdowns hit, and ended up becoming long term. While living in Sydney and working in Brisbane has had its challenges, the welcoming community at CBCS has made it so much easier. Whenever I visit, there are always friendly faces in the corridor and at CBCS drinks. 

It was through this vibrant community that I forged a wonderful new collaboration with Associate Professor Daniel Dunn. Together with Daniel, Anthony and our amazing students, I’ve shifted my main research focus towards data science. My core drive behind this shift is to enhance stakeholder engagement in the marine spatial planning process by building intuitive R-packages and Shiny Apps (you can see our work at spatialplanning.github.io). This new direction has allowed me to engage directly with Marine Protected Area (MPA) processes in diverse and critical locations, including the Weddell Sea (Antarctica), Kosrae, Vanuatu and the Red Sea, to name just a few. In the Weddell Sea, our Shiny App – shinyplanr – was used during workshops of 50+ scientists and policy-makers to help the participants learn about spatial prioritisation and experiment with different planning scenarios instantly.

This process would previously have taken months of back and forth between stakeholders and planners. The Weddell Sea Phase 2 MPA proposal – recommending ~628,000 km2 of ocean for protection – was led by the Norwegian Polar Institute and became the fastest MPA proposal to pass to the Commission for the Conservation of Antarctic Marine Living Resources. 

Looking ahead 

While I’ve largely stepped away from field-based oceanography, I’ve been fortunate to maintain my links to the biological oceanography community by developing valuable tools like the Biological Ocean Observer (shiny.csiro.au/BioOceanObserver/). I also co-teach the CBCS R Workshops twice a year, reflecting my commitment to building technical capacity in science. I’m always on the lookout for new collaborations to build tools that empower the community to connect with and understand scientific data. 

Ultimately, my goal is to continue leveraging the power of data to bridge the gap between complex scientific understanding and real-world action. As we navigate the immense challenges of climate change and strive for ambitious targets like “30x30” protection, the capacity to translate vast datasets into meaningful outcomes will be paramount. Equally critical is ensuring the next generation of scientists and policymakers possess the skills to interrogate and interpret these vital data.

Outside of research, my life hasn’t strayed far from those early inspirations. I still find joy in bushwalking, embracing the great outdoors, and being in the water every chance I get. Only now, I share these moments with my wife Anna and our two daughters, Skye and Hayley – often after cheering them on from the sidelines of their latest netball or football game. This balance, nurtured by family and a continued connection to the environments I study, helps fuel my dedication. Despite the somewhat curvy path that brought me here, I wouldn’t change a thing; every varied experience has helped me forge the unique skills and perspective I now bring to my marine research coupled with a new love of data science.

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