Saturday, February 23, 2008

Retreating to Lake Arrowhead

I spent two days this week at the ISI/ISD (Intelligent Systems Division) annual retreat, which was held at The Lake Arrowhead Resort in the San Bernardino Mountains, about two hours east of LA. Unfortunately, the weather was awful -- dense fog, rain, and even hail at times. (Did I mention it was foggy? Driving up and down the mountain was extremely challenging because the fog was so thick that you could see only a few inches in front of your car on a relentlessly winding mountain road. Due to the elevation, it was literally driving through the clouds.) Consequently, I didn't explore the area at all, but it is obviously a beautiful place.

The ISI retreat was an incredibly civilized affair. This is in stark contrast to our faculty retreats at the Univ. of Utah, which are a form of torture that should be banned by the Geneva Convention. At Utah, the faculty are sequestered in a local meeting room and subjected to an endless series of mind-numbingly boring and content-free Powerpoint presentations. Except for the occasional mental jolt provided by one faculty member brazenly insulting another, these meetings could induce a coma in an otherwise healthy person. But I digress...

At ISI, the retreat spans two days, and faculty, staff, and students all attend with expenses paid by the institute. The event consists of a series of high-level research presentations, tutorials on specific topics, question & answer sessions with project leaders and the division directors, and social events. The retreat serves many purposes, including educating everyone about the work currently going on throughout the division, exposing students to a wide swath of AI research, encouraging collaborations across research groups, and supporting collegiality and morale. I was impressed ... every institution should do this kind of thing!

Sunday, February 3, 2008

What a Fluke!

There's no denying it. I am in the midst of a full-blown obsession. I have long been fascinated by the ocean and marine mammals, and one of my deepest frustrations has been that I can't travel on boats without getting terribly seasick. So it would be impossible to overstate how liberating and thrilling it is to have discovered a place where I can see whales from land. And this magical place is just a short drive away. Any day, any time, I can go see whales. A fantasy come true.

Since whale-watching season is relatively short (roughly January-March), I've decided to indulge my obsession and go whale-watching as often as I can. About 2 weeks ago, I drove north past Malibu to visit Point Dume, which is another recommended whale-watching spot. It's a beautiful place that juts out over the ocean, and there's a short trail to the top of a hill which affords a spectacular view of the Pacific. I saw sea lions and dolphins, but alas, no whales. I'm glad I visited, but parking was horrific and Palos Verdes has at least as good a view, so I doubt I'll return to Point Dume.

Yesterday, I went whale-watching again (see "obsession" above) back at beautiful Palos Verdes. The other huge benefit of Palos Verdes is that the "official" whale watchers from the American Cetacean Society are there. Having many well-trained eyes scanning the vast ocean and broadcasting the exact location of every blow or hint of whale activity is enormously helpful. On this day, I saw 4-5 gray whales. For 2 of them, I got a great view of their backs and flukes. I also saw the back of a third whale, and saw the blows from 1-2 additional whales but no bodies. And I learned a new factoid: a whale's heart is the size of a Volkswagon Beetle. Wow.

This day was about as good as it gets because there was nearly constant whale activity for the entire time (3 hours) that I was there. However, "constant" is a relative term. Mostly you just see blows, and often they are 5+ minutes apart. So there's a whole lot of waiting and guessing as to where the next blow will be. Seeing whales is an exercise in patience and also an art. I'm getting better at identifying blows, which are typically short and dispersed for gray whales, so not as easy to spot as you might think. I even managed to find one whale before the official observers saw it, which earned me some valuable "street cred". :) One of the observers later gave me a lesson on how to identify "prints". Although whales regularly come to the surface to breathe, their bodies aren't always visible above the water. When whales dive back down, however, their large bodies often leave behind smooth, circular patches of water. These are called "prints" and trained observers use them to verify that a blow was indeed from a whale (and not, say, a dolphin or splash from something else) and also to help track the whale's movements underwater. Following the prints can help ascertain the direction that the whale is heading and how fast it is moving, so you have a better idea of where the next blow will come from.

The observers continuously update a board with the number of official sightings, and on this day the observers who had been there from dawn to dusk saw a total of 19 whales! Another reason why it's nice to hang out with the whale observers is that it's reassuring to know that there are people who are even more whale-obsessed then me. :)