We spoke to Rachel Crane: a marine ecologist, science communicator, underwater videographer and expedition diver with National Geographic. She’s also one of our incredible Wavemakers!

1. What inspired you to pursue a career in science, and specifically in your specialty?

I actually had a hard time choosing an academic path because I was curious about everything! It started with a love for animals because I was raised on a farm surrounded by alpacas, cats, chickens, and ponds full of salamanders and tadpoles. That led me to an interest in being a vet, but after a summer working with our local vet, I learned that surgery wasn’t my thing…and I’m allergic to pretty much everything cute and fuzzy. Go figure. I’m so glad I tried it out early and learned to pivot! I decided to embrace my desire to study everything, and specialized in Marine Ecology, the study of how everything is connected, with a specific focus on the ocean.

This combination felt like I had really found my niche, I didn’t have to choose one single facet to focus on. Studying the ocean is like exploring a whole universe of overlapping stories. Coral reefs, plankton, climate, polar habitats, deep sea ecosystems, and all the little critters exist in delicate balance where even the smallest change, like a missing species or shifting current, can ripple through an entire ecosystem, ultimately affecting life across the globe. That interconnectedness is what fascinates me and keeps me endlessly curious about how the ocean sustains the planet and all of us along for the ride.

That epiphany moment of realizing that the ocean basically holds everything together, immediately made me want to turn around and tell someone! So much of marine science is invisible to most people, and I didn’t want it to stay that way. I realized my passion wasn’t just for understanding the connections within these systems, but for helping others experience them too. This way they can see how deeply interconnected and essential the ocean is to everyone, no matter where they live. Making the ocean accessible, translating what’s happening beneath the surface into something tangible, emotional, and relevant, is what continues to drive me in this field.

That realization led me to teaching via science communication and underwater videography aboard National Geographic and Lindblad Expedition ships around the world. I get to be part of the discovery process, then actually turn around and share those moments with people in a way that sparks curiosity and connection. And honestly? I still feel just as excited about it every time I splash into the ocean…even if it’s 28F in Antarctica or in the mid 80s in Indonesia. It’s all connected, and I love getting to see it and share it!

2. Can you share a memorable experience from your research or an expedition that shaped your perspective on ocean conservation?

I think this is the hardest question for me, because memorable experiences are often emotionally charged, which is why they stay with you for so long. The first thing that is springing to my mind is, “What’s made me cry?” I’m an emotional person, but I don’t often cry in public, for joy or sadness, so I equate crying with these type of moments.

I’ve lived in the Florida Keys since 2012, and from then through early 2015, I spent most of my days diving. Just off the south side of one of the famous coral reefs was a special area that tour operators didn’t usually visit. Using compass headings and coral channels, a few of us could swim there from the mooring balls, passing down the route among friends who knew how to find it. After about 20 minutes of navigating, the shadows of spires started to appear in the blue, and we knew we were getting close. Amongst my friends, we called this place ‘The Castles’ and I’m sure it had been given similar names to those that knew how to find it.

In around forty feet of water, pillar corals rose almost thirty feet toward the surface, forming clusters that truly looked like tiny castles. Each one was coated in a brownish-orange shag carpet of living coral that swayed and rippled in the current. This place felt like a secret spot, shared with just a few friends. But, it wouldn’t last.

By 2018, increased ocean temperatures, a category five hurricane, and a rampant disease had taken their toll. Only the skeletons remained. Ancient animals, hundreds of years old, were reduced to haunting pinnacles on the reef. A story, sadly not unique. And yet, I did not cry. I carried the tragedy and helpless feeling unprocessed for years. Most of the pillar corals along the Florida Keys Barrier Reef Tract didn’t survive, and to this day it is one of the most endangered corals in the ocean. I haven’t seen one in the wild here in a long time.

In 2022 I found myself working in Belize for the first time, heading out to snorkel and film some of the reef critters. As I swam away from the shore, in only about four feet of water, I saw a familiar shadow. I couldn’t believe my eyes, but there it was, a teeny little castle of healthy, living pillar coral! Its polyps gently swaying in the little undertow of the small surface waves. I was so shocked and happy I squealed into my snorkel, cooing at it, nerd flag flying high.

I realized pretty soon that this little castle would never have the opportunity to grow and become as monumental as the corals I was remembering from the Keys. Living in such shallow water, it was already close to its maximum height. But it was alive, and living in a protected marine sanctuary of all places! And, it could spawn the babies that would land somewhere deeper, and grow the next generation of epic coral castles. That was when I cried. When the hope hit me. That the conservation and protection of this area was harboring this precious coral species.

After clearing my mask more times than I can count, I finally started filming. That evening, I was able to share this coral and its story with others. It reminded me why protecting the ocean matters. It’s where hope lives.

3. What advice do you have for young girls and women interested in pursuing careers in science, especially those who love the ocean?

Remember when you were little and people asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Little me was a very wise child, and I always answered, “Happy!” To which everyone responded, “That’s not a career.” Adult me begs to differ. It absolutely is a full-time job designing and reacting to life in ways that leave you happy at the end of the day. And it’s not always possible, we all have bad days, but if we take a step back and think on a lifetime scale, we can strive to have a happy life. If you let this thought-process guide you, on any career path, I think it will help you sort through so many opportunities as you find your way forward.

You don’t have to have it all figured out. Science isn’t a straight path, it certainly wasn’t for me! And honestly, some days, I still feel like I’m winging it. That’s okay. Curiosity matters way more than checking all the “boxes” the media portrays you need to be a scientist. And don’t compare yourself to others, especially the curated social media version of themselves. Everyone’s path is different. If you see someone leading a life you think you want, ask them questions! Success looks different for everyone, and therefore you cannot feel behind if you don’t want the same things. A desire to learn, especially when things don’t work out, and staying positive and open, these are qualities that can’t be taught.

Say yes to things that make you a little nervous. Try stuff, see if you like it, and if you don’t, that’s chill, you just learned it’s not your jam. That is still time well spent. Ask yourself questions! How do you want to spend your time? Do you like being outside? Do you want to work on boats? Or maybe in a lab? What skills do you need to be safe? Hands-on skills and certifications are huge: knowing how to trailer a boat, fix a dive compressor, or even pick up tools like ArcGIS or stats software (if you LIKE math!) can put you ahead of someone with a degree but no practical experience. Having skills that support science is far more unique than a basic science degree, and is more likely to help you find your path to a happy work life balance.

Ask questions, and don’t be afraid to take up space, even if you feel like the only one in the room. Confidence usually comes after you start doing the thing, not before. You belong in science because you’re curious and willing to learn—not because you check some imagined scientist checklist. And remember, the world of science doesn’t just need scientists. There is an entire ecosystem of roles supporting them behind the scenes. Whatever your skills, you can bring them to a team that’s doing work you care about! It’s never too late to jump in somewhere new!

And most importantly, follow what excites you! If you love the ocean, let that joy lead. Build your life and your career around what sparks your curiosity and makes you happy. We only get one life, so dive into what lights you up, and let that passion carry you through every challenge, surprise, and adventure along the way!

4. What is your vision for the future of marine science, and how can we all contribute to preserving our oceans?

Wow- that is a big question.

I hope the future of marine science feels more collaborative, more inclusive, and more connected to everyday life. The science itself is essential, but its impact depends on how well we share it beyond academia and research institutions, and who feels included in the conversation. When people can see themselves reflected in ocean science, they’re more likely to care, and caring is what leads to action.

I also hope we continue to value storytelling alongside data. When I was working directly in labs and publishing science, I often felt like my work was being read by people who already understood the nuances of these problems and cared deeply about the environment. A part of me felt like I was preaching to the choir. That feeling played a big role in me realizing why I wasn’t fulfilled in a traditional science environment. It led me to my passion in science communication, and I found myself translating the songs of the science choir to a wider audience.

Continued scientific discovery helps the choir keep singing the right songs, but science communicators help those stories stay alive, relevant, and heard. Facts tell us what is happening in the ocean, but stories help people understand why it matters. They create emotional connection, and that connection is what inspires stewardship, advocacy, and change.

And we all love a good story, humans are inherently telling stories every day!

My favorite quote about this is from Richard Powers, “The best arguments in the world won't change a person's mind. The only thing that can do that is a good story.”

Telling personal stories is the best. So, if you can get involved in supporting the ocean or seeing a place for yourself, and then tell the story of how that makes you feel to the people you care about, you can start making a difference right away!

Protecting the ocean doesn’t require everyone to become a scientist. Everyone can play a role in ocean conservation by staying curious, making informed choices about what we buy and consume, supporting science-based decision making, and amplifying voices working to protect marine ecosystems.

With every story shared, we strengthen connection. Connection that turns awareness into stewardship and reminds us that the health of the ocean is inseparable from our own.

Wavemaker code: RACHELONTHEREEF