Mogged

By: Mariano Trejo

After a tiring first day at Marine Lab, I was looking forward to the snorkeling experience we would have the next day. Upon arriving at the green lagoon, I was met with what I can only describe as a chiseled piece of marble. I felt like a 16th century Florentine observing Michelangelo's The David. The statuesque man that came out of the water like Aquaman absolutely astonished me. This hands-on marine biology program was supposed to be full of nerds, not actual Atlanteans. I almost instinctively called the man Poseidon as soon as he got out of the water. Poseidon—which is what I called our instructor Pat for the rest of our trip–was now going to be one of our instructors for the next few days.

I was pretty intimidated by our teachers at the beginning of our time at Marine Lab, but my intimidation was not just skin-deep; it was also due to how much they loved what they do. Pat, for example, knew so much about corals and their ecosystems, and his lesson on corals helped me understand their fragility and importance. The plaguing feeling I had of something almost like jealousy quickly turned into admiration as the days went by.

One instance was especially inspiring. Our instructor Auz had to teach us about fish identification. His class was at a later time in the day, and even though we were all drowsy from swimming all day, he made sure to keep our interest running not just by being loud but with his innate passion for fish. He knew all the fish as if they were cousins. He was so enthralled in his listing of the different shapes, colors, and behaviors of the fish, that as the class went on, you could see Auz getting more and more pumped. Whether it was angelfish or surgeonfish, Auz started slapping fish magnets on the white board, getting us even more hooked into his love for fish. I remember vividly when Auz asked us a weird question: “If we could kiss a fish, what fish would we kiss?” The question sounded more than odd, but Auz used it to introduce us to the angelfish, which was of course his answer to the question. Angelfish have these soft and plump lips, or so I'm told. Auz’s hour of teaching felt more like 20 minutes with how fun it was.          

Another instance was with an instructor who didn't give us any classes, but also worked there. His name was Jacob. I had made the habit of asking each and every instructor if they had seen any sharks and if so, how big? Coincidentally, when I had asked Jacob, he turned out to be a total shark whiz. We talked, or more so he lectured me, about sharks. Great whites, makos, reef sharks, and more– Jacob had seen them all, and he dang well loved them. As he talked about sharks I couldn't help but think, I want to love something just as much as he loves sharks, something that gives me the same type of passion he has for sharks.

My grandpa has always taught me that success is based on how good of a job you have and how much money you make. For most of my life, I have taken my grandpa’s word for it, but our experience at Marine Lab has given me a whole different perspective on success. I no longer want the highest paying job. I want to be successful to the point where I love my job just because of the job, not because of the pay. I want to have the same look in my eyes that Jacob had when he talked about sharks and the same enthusiasm Auz had when we touched a topic even remotely tied to fish. I had always seen success as superficial, much like my initial impression of Marine Lab, with no real value apart from how much money one makes or how good someone looks, but now I see success as having the ability to do what you love and are passionate about every day. I left Marine Labe with a greater appreciation for the world we live in but I also achieved a deeper understanding of what I want to do with my life.