A Family Experience at FHL
By Lynda Barckert
As a parent I have always been keen to learn what makes my offspring tick. So when my son declared his determination to keep returning to FHL for further study opportunities after spending a quarter there in the undergraduate ZooBot program a couple of years ago, I sat up and took notice. My son’s enthusiasm for the FHL experience piqued my curiosity — I wanted to see this place for myself! So last August, my husband, daughter and I came to FHL from Chicago to visit my son for a few days while he conducted some independent undergrad research in the weeks after the regular summer class session ended.
I had learned from the website that families of current FHL students could rent cottages on the campus that were not being used by grad students or visiting research scientists. In the weeks before our departure, I contacted the awesome Bernadette Holthuis, who reserved a unit for us that featured a full kitchen, private bedroom, living, dining and bath rooms, at a rate you can’t get in August at the island’s regular hotels.
We arrived on the island via ferry late in the afternoon near the end of last August. We texted our son to coordinate a meeting spot, but he did not answer, so we drove through the town toward FHL using our cell phone Maps app. As we drove along the private road leading into the FHL complex, I began to feel that I was on a secret mission. Maybe it was how still the surrounding woods stood as late afternoon sunlight spread over the leaves and branches. Maybe it was the wildlife I knew was there but was prudently remaining invisible, waiting for us to pass by.
We stopped the car and got out near the first group of buildings we saw. We entered the main building, hoping to find a person who could check us into the cabin we had reserved. We found the front office immediately but no one was there. This was not surprising, since FHL was on hiatus before the fall schedule kicked in. We went back outside and texted our son again but still received no reply, so we started exploring the grounds. We followed a dirt path that led to a series of wooden buildings—a dining hall, a conference building, and other structures with porches that were clearly cabins. We saw several quietly foraging deer, but no human beings, so we decided to walk over to the nearby shoreline where we saw a pier.
The FHL waterfront and pier. Photo credit: Lynda Barckert.
Kalloway Page (right) holding out his hand to receive the second component of an underwater epoxy called Z-Spar, which scientific divers use to anchor experiments underwater. Photo credit: Pema Kitaeff.
As we approached, we saw three figures in a small motorboat pulling up to the far end of the pier. Maybe they would be able to help us out. They secured the boat and climbed onto the pier. Two of them were wearing dry suits. As we got closer I began to smile—one of the divers was our son! After welcome hugs and brief introductions, our son pulled the key to our cabin out of his gear bag and walked with us toward the nearby lodging area. Our cabin was just across the path from the Octopus building, where our son was staying. We were delighted with the spaciousness of our cabin and the full functionality of the kitchen. All of the cabins are close to the shore of the harbor and we enjoyed the sight and sound of a rumbling seaplane as it took off in the near distance beyond our porch.
That first evening our son played chef, providing us with a dinner of fresh local crab legs and plenty of melted butter. Afterwards, he took us on a tour of the campus. We ducked into a couple of labs, touched some of the sea stars in the pool under the steps inside one of the main buildings, and saw his dorm room and the shared student kitchen area. When night fell, we took flashlights out onto the pier and observed anemones, shrimp and assorted plant life clinging to the sides of the pier just below the water’s surface.
On the following days, we coordinated our own vacation activities on the island with our son’s research schedule. He joined us for the beautiful hike to the lighthouse at Lime Kiln Point State Park, which is also a popular land-based whale-watching spot. But we explored the American Camp and Grandma’s Cove by ourselves while he crunched data back at FHL. On day four, we spirited him away from the islands for a few days to visit Port Townsend and Lake Crescent in the Olympics. Then we packed him onto a seaplane back to FHL and boarded our own plane back to Chicago.
Lime Kiln lighthouse on the west side of San Juan Island. Photo credit: Lynda Barckert.
Now that I have stayed at FHL, I have a better understanding of the impact it has on its students. FHL stands apart from the traditional college campus environment because its courses revolve around hands-on learning and, for fledgling young scientists, this type of experience is invaluable. I have seen my son’s eyes shine when he describes past ZooBot course research activities in which he took out a small motorboat to collect data on algae flows in the waters surrounding the FHL campus, or more recent independent research on local sea urchin populations, which involved utilizing the scientific diving skills he learned during Summer Session B last July.
There is nothing more exciting to me than watching my son progress toward his dream of becoming a real research scientist. And that is what makes me tick!
