REMINISCENCES of an OCEANOGRAPHER Gordon Arthur Riley Dept of Oceanography, Dalhousie University, Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada Original Format Was a 161 Pp
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REMINISCENCES OF AN OCEANOGRAPHER Gordon Arthur Riley Dept of Oceanography, Dalhousie University, Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada Original format was a 161 pp. manuscript. Circa 1982-1983 PREFACE A good many of my younger friends have expressed curiosity about what oceanography was like in the days when I just entered the field and about some of the grand old men whom I knew in those days and who have since departed on that long cruise. Bob Fournier, in particular, has often urged me to jot down some of my reminiscences, and he more or less convinced me I should do so. Of course, my elders in the field were few in number in those days, and in most cases I didn't know them well enough to do more than describe my limited associations with them and my personal impressions. As time passed, there were obituaries by their peers, which were more informative than I could be. So this is mainly an account of my own career and my close associates, who initially were of my own generation, more or less. To be sure, some of them have become grand old men in their own right and some have departed. As time passed, there were younger associates coming in, and stories about the beginning of their careers may not be well known and may be of interest. An added impetus to this dredging up of old memories was the volume of selected reprints which Joe Wroblewski organized and edited together with essays by other friends who discussed my work and their associations with me. [Selected Works of Gordon A. Riley. Wroblewski, J.S. (ed.) With introductory essays by G.E. Hutchinson, E.L. Mills, R.O. Fournier, P.J. Wangersky, and closing remarks by E.S. Deevey, Jr., Dalhousie University Printing Centre, Halifax. 1982. 489 p.] I was complimented and deeply gratified by their efforts, and I felt that if other people were interested enough to welcome that kind of volume, perhaps I should add an informal supplement. Only about a third of my total scientific output had been included. A little about the purposes and results of the other papers would be in order, as well as the "human side" of the work -- the personal experiences along the way that are never included in a scientific publication but often are important in shaping the development of a particular paper and the general course of one's career. There was a little of that sort of thing in the essays that my friends wrote but much more could be added. Also the impression one gets from the essays is occasionally quite different from the way things seemed at the time. This is not a disagreement as to facts but rather a matter of perspective and personal reactions. For example, Eric Mills bracketed the period from 1938 to 1946 as a time when I made my best contributions to ecological theory. This is probably so, but heavens to Betsy, it was no triumphal march. I was doing what I wanted to do and was deeply interested in the results I was getting, but few other people were. 1 Evelyn Hutchinson and a few other relatively young scientists were strongly supportive, but virtually all of the older and well established men in both limnology and oceanography had no respect for the kinds of things I was doing and some were quite outspoken in their disapproval. I was frequently discouraged and resentful. I really did not feel I was building a secure reputation in the field until I was fortyish and a little over the hill and not doing such revolutionary things any more. I have never intended to write an autobiography, and this is not one. There is a lot of scientific discussion that will not be very interesting to anyone except fellow scientists and only a limited amount about family and other non-professional matters. To this small audience, I have been more frank in expressing my personal opinions -- perhaps prejudices -- than I would be if I were writing for the general public. The account is hampered a little by the fact that I have never kept a diary or journal or even a voluminous vitae. There are some events that I cannot date precisely, and probably there are some mistakes in chronology. Also, in some cases, I have deliberately violated strict chronology to give continuity to a series of related events that occurred over a period of several years. Where does one chop off something like this? Originally, I intended to terminate it at the time when I left Yale and came to Dalhousie. There was no reason to write about people and event here that everyone knows about. That is a job for some junior staff member somewhere way down the road. However, when I got to that point there were some things that seemed worth saying -- bits and pieces of history about the development of the department and some personal items that probably are not common knowledge. It is a bit like the proverbial snake that doesn't stop wiggling until sundown. I let it wiggle. Finally, I want to say that I have written this pretty much as I would write a letter to a friend, just sitting down and letting he thoughts flow, without much attempt to be either well organized or literary, but just informative. As I looked it over afterward, I thought of other reminiscences that might have been included, and I did add a few more here and there. They are like those bubbles that keep rising to the surface of an old swamp. So be it. This is enough to give a flavour of what it was like during those years. End preface, on with the rest of it. For a beginning, I suppose I should say something about the steps along the way toward an oceanographic career. Or should I call it a random walk? 2 I really didn't intend to become an oceanographer until I became one. In fact, most of my career decisions have been opportunistic, choosing what seemed at the moment to be the best option and neither looking back nor fully committing myself to the chosen option on a long-term basis. To be sure, a young man preparing for a career during the depression of the Thirties had to be somewhat opportunistic. Options were limited. Growing up as I did in the hill country of southern Missouri, I knew nothing about the ocean except what I read in books, and if I read anything about oceanography, I don't recall it. Sea stories --yes. That unknown world was intriguing, but I doubt that I ever thought it might be a significant part of my life. School was boring as hell and seriously interfered with my education. The elementary schools I went to were stiff and uncompromising. Each year there was a small pile of texts to be mastered-- no less and no more. Other books were forbidden. If time hung heavy on our hands-- well, my poorest grades were in something that was then known as deportment. Outside of school, I read voraciously-- literature, good and bad, and science, mainly. Natural history was a favourite subject when I was in elementary school but gave way to broader studies as I got older. In high school, my interests were about equally divided between literature and science. I was doing a lot of writing and toyed with the idea of a writing career. However, aside from the financial insecurity of that kind of life, I had developed enough critical faculties to know that my best efforts were poor by comparison with really good literature. The alternative option that I chose was to major in biology in college, although at that time, I was looking no higher than a bachelor's degree and a teaching job in high school. So on to Drury College, a small liberal arts college in my home town of Springfield, Missouri. James Cribbs was the biology professor. Roland Neil was the chemistry professor, each carrying the whole bloody department course load. I don't know how they did it. Of course I realized later that they didn't do it the way it is done in universities. It was pretty much standard stuff out of the textbooks. They couldn't keep up with the recent literature and bring things up to date every year. Still, I think they provided a pretty good general background. However, in that kind of situation, one poor teacher could wreck a whole department. I have no compliments for the dodo who was supposed to be teaching physics at that time. My parents were intelligent and liberal minded people but by no means affluent. They made some sacrifices to help provide a college education for my sister and me, luxuries they had been unable to afford for themselves. My sister Mildred, five years older than I, was out of college and teaching Latin in the local high school before I graduated. She, too, was generous. So with summer jobs and some help from the family, I was able 3 to pay tuition and other school expenses during the first two years, and of course I was saving money by living at home. The last two years, I was able to get teaching assistantships that took care of tuition. That was fortunate, for by that time, we were deeply into the depression, and I was unable to get any summer jobs. The beginning of the third year was another moment of decision.