During my time in St. Croix, I explored the Christiansted National Historic Site, released 36 sea turtle hatchlings at Buck Island Reef National Monument, up-planted mangroves in Salt River Bay National Historical Park and Ecological Preserve, saw my first seahorse at the Frederiksted Pier, and swam what felt like several nautical miles to a magical wall dive at Cane Bay.
As I photographed, I also began paying closer attention to the life that had settled across the ship. Corals, sponges, fish, and invertebrates now occupy its surfaces and openings. Inside one of the forward gun barrels, I spotted a small banded coral shrimp—striped, delicate, and seemingly unconcerned with the historical significance of its chosen home.
What I loved most was that every dive had a purpose and ended with a visible result. Whether it was a zookeeper packed with lionfish, a brand-new buoy bouncing in the waves, or a boat loaded with ghost traps, line, and other marine debris, every dive left us with something tangible to show for our work.
Said nobody ever. But they were awesome. My summer as the 2026 Our World Underwater Scholarship Society’s National Parks Research Intern began with a whirlwind trip to NYC, where I met many amazing people and divers. Friday night’s “Family Dinner” was the perfect introduction to The Society. I mean, you
