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Allie Blanchette conducts research on river herring (Credit: Henry Legett)
Allie Blanchette joined the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC) in November 2025, after completing her Ph.D. in biology with a focus on coral reef ecology at Florida State University. Now, as a postdoc in SERC’s Fisheries Conservation Lab, she is heading a project to study recreational fisheries in the Chesapeake, like bluefish and sheepshead. In this Q&A, Blanchette shares stories about what sparked her interest in marine ecology and how that led to her research in shallow marine ecosystems throughout the world. Edited for brevity and clarity.
What first sparked your interest in marine ecology?
I was always interested in environmental science, and I think marine biology is one of those things that everyone loves. I tried out an internship in college with the South African Shark Conservancy, and it was a done deal after that…The shark internship started it, and ever since then I’ve been hooked.
Hannah Morrissette in the mangroves of Belize (Credit: Steve Crooks / Silvestrum Climate Associates)
Blue carbon is the carbon captured by coastal and marine ecosystems, like mangroves, marshes and seagrass beds. These overachieving ecosystems also provide vital habitat for animals, protect the coast from storms, support livelihoods and improve water quality. When left undisturbed, blue carbon can remain sequestered for thousands of years. Based on this ability to remove carbon from the atmosphere, conserving and restoring coastal wetlands has become a popular “nature-based solution” where protecting these ecosystems can help mitigate the effects of climate change.
In a recent paper published by Nature Ecology and Evolution, 30 scientists from around the world considered what’s next for blue carbon, especially the vital role of local communities and traditional knowledge. The team included three scientists from the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC): Hannah Morrissette, Pat Megonigal and Andre Rovai.
Morrissette found her love for mangroves in the Dominican Republic while working with local communities. Recently, she became the new principal investigator of SERC’s Marine Conservation Lab. In this Q&A, we sat down with Morrissette to learn more about blue carbon and the role local and traditional ecological knowledge plays in her research. Edited for brevity and clarity.
A hooded warbler lands on a branch in BiodiversiTREE (Credit: Eriberto Osorio)
Alongside Chesapeake Bay, a young forest is growing.
BiodiversiTREE isn’t like other reforestation attempts. Instead of planting a single species, the project includes 16 different species and roughly 17,000 trees. Many of these multi-layered canopies increase shade and enhance cooling effects—great news for birds, which may use cooler plots as a refuge from warmer temperatures, according to a new study.
“You experience this yourself,” said Justin Nowakowski, senior scientist at the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC). “On a hot day, you’d rather spend more of your time under the shade of a tree than baking in the sun. The same goes for many species.”
Andre Rovai measures mangrove growth in Sanibel Island, Florida. (Credit: Andre Rovai)
On a cool, fall day while doing fieldwork in Louisiana, Andre Rovai came face to face with an alligator.
A colleague in the field with Rovai had stepped on the alligator’s nest. Rovai heard hissing near his feet, and there she was, a few steps away from him.
Rovai, a principal investigator at the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC), had been working in coastal ecosystems for over two decades. At the time, he was an assistant research scientist with Louisiana State University. This did not prepare him to deal with an angry mother alligator.
“We were like four or five feet apart from each other, looking eye to eye pretty much because I was sinking in the marsh.” Rovai said.
Smithsonian Study Finds Juvenile Crabs Rely on Shrinking Shallow-Water Habitats To Escape Cannibalism by Adults
by Kristen Goodhue
An adult male blue crab attempts to cannibalize a smaller blue crab on a tether. (Credit: SERC Fisheries Conservation Lab)
The Chesapeake Bay’s most popular crustacean has a dark streak. Cannibalism is the No. 1 killer of juvenile blue crabs in mid-salinity waters where they are known to congregate, according to a new study from the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC), published March 16 in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences. But shallow waters can offer a vital refuge.
Blue crabs lead a life on the run. After spending roughly two months as larvae in the ocean, they are swept back into the lower bay to morph into juvenile crabs. There, the juveniles rely on seagrass to provide partial refuge from predatory fish like striped bass. But after growing to about 1 inch, many migrate up the bay to mid-salinities, where fish and seagrasses are scarcer. There they face another enemy: larger blue crabs.
“Blue crabs are notoriously cannibalistic,” said Tuck Hines, marine biologist and director emeritus of SERC. But although cannibalism is common throughout aquatic ecosystems, he added, long-term studies attempting to quantify it are rare. And the data could make a difference for managers trying to keep the blue crab fishery sustainable.
Sickle-leaved cymodocea seagrass (Thalassodendron ciliatum) in Zanzibar, Tanzania. (Credit: Ben Jones / Ocean Image Bank)
They’ve been called the “lungs of the sea.” And while certain marine microbes could also compete for that title, there’s no question that seagrasses are crucial for life on coastal lands and at sea. They provide oxygen, food, habitat and shoreline protection. But seagrasses are routinely overshadowed by flashier coral reefs or more charismatic marine animals.
“They’re just below the radar,” said Emmett Duffy, a marine scientist with the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center. “A lot of people don’t know what they are, don’t know that they’re important. They think it’s just something that gets tangled in your boat motor.”
Emmett Duffy on a research boat in Bocas Del Toro, Panama, in 2015. (Credit: Sean Mattson/Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute)
The Tennenbaum Marine Observatories Network (TMON) and Marine Global Earth Observatory (MarineGEO) program began as a wild dream. But it grew into something extraordinary under the leadership of its first director, Emmett Duffy. This year, Duffy announced his retirement from MarineGEO and the Smithsonian. His philosophy of team science and community building not only changed the lives of all those connected to MarineGEO, but also the field of marine ecology.
“Emmett’s leadership of MarineGEO reflected the very best of Smithsonian science—an unwavering drive to ask deeper questions and advance our understanding of marine ecosystems worldwide,” said Ellen Stofan, Undersecretary for Science and Research at the Smithsonian.
It’s been a wild six decades. The Smithsonian Environmental Research Center celebrated its 60th anniversary this past year. Since 1965, the site has gone from a remote field station on the western shore of Chesapeake Bay, without any full-time resident scientists of its own, to a cutting-edge research community with over 100 scientists and educators working around the world. As we bid farewell to our anniversary year, we dug into our archives to unearth some of our favorite stories and discoveries from the past 60 years.
Left: Storrs Olsen, ornithologist and resident manager of SERC when it was called the Chesapeake Bay Center for Environmental Studies, circa 1969. (Credit: Smithsonian Libraries & Archives) Right: SERC technician Cary Pelc samples water from a stream weir in 2021. (Credit: Stephen Voss, Smithsonian)
PNNL Earth scientist Peter Regier (left) takes a soil gas sample with then-postdoc Wei Huang of Oak Ridge National Laboratory in the TEMPEST forest. (Credit: Alice Stearns)
In a low-lying forest at the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC), a team of scientists are quietly predicting the future. For three summers, they’ve flooded the forest with brief deluges of freshwater and saltwater. They’re mimicking the heavy downpours and storm surges expected as more extreme weather batters the East Coast. Their mission: Find out why storms can make forests stress out, and how much stress a forest can take before it begins turning into a ghost forest.
Patty Levasseur holds diamondback terrapin hatchlings on Poplar Island, near Jefferson Island. (Credit: Patty Levasseur)
Diamondback terrapins are an icon of the Chesapeake. They are the only turtle species known to live exclusively in brackish waters—where the saltiness hovers between pure freshwater and open seawater, common around bays and estuaries. They’re also the official state reptile of Maryland and symbolic mascot for coastal ecosystems spanning from Texas to Cape Cod.
While their popularity has increased, wild terrapin populations have dwindled. Over the past 50 years, they’ve suffered an estimated 75% decline across the bulk of their range due to habitat loss, nest predation and crab trapping.
One scientist at the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC) is hoping to find out if island restoration efforts can give terrapin populations a much-needed boost.
Since April, Patty Levasseur has served as SERC’s resident terrapin expert. As a postdoctoral researcher working for SERC’s Spatial Ecology and Conservation Lab, Levasseur is leading SERC’s terrapin monitoring efforts on Jefferson Island.