Lake Ontario National Marine Sanctuary | 43.4553° N, 76.5116° W | May 20th, 2025

We headed to a previously undiscovered target that was identified during our overnight mapping. The object was 39 meters long and 4 meters off the lakebed making it highly likely to be a shipwreck. Upon reaching the bottom we discovered what is likely an early 19th-centruy steam barge. The VOYIS Discovery Stereo Camera worked flawlessly allowing us to build 3D models in real time. We left the site with an initial 3D model and full 4K video coverage.

— Situation Report from Expedition Leader Jason Fahy on May 20th, 2025

05.20.2025

My shipmates know I’m a bit of a zombie early in the morning (and it’s best not to engage me in conversation) before I’ve had coffee. But our Chief Scientist, Ben Ioset, ignores my audible yawns and puffy eyes. As I fill my Hydro Flask with hot coffee, he sidles up next to me, radiating frenetic energy.

“Did you hear?” he asks with the eagerness of a child on Christmas morning. “We found a new wreck last night!”

Even though I’m barely awake, I smile at his unbridled joy.

“Really? That’s awesome.” I screw the lid onto my thermos and follow Ben into the main lab.

It’s just after 6am but the room is a hive of activity. Jason Fahy, our expedition leader, leans over a computer screen, his eyes wide. “Check it out,” he says, turning the laptop to show me a sonar image from 2:30am – the standard squiggly lines are interrupted by a long, large object in the unmistakable shape of a ship.

I have joined many fascinating expeditions over the years, but this one is by far the most unique: operating in a lake instead of the ocean, using a much smaller ROV system, and perhaps most notably — focusing our exploration and discovery efforts exclusively on shipwrecks.

I sip my coffee, stare at the sonar image, and repeat what I just said to Ben. There is simply no other way to describe what we’re doing.

“This is awesome.”

While amateur shipwreck enthusiasts have scoured the depths of Lake Ontario for decades, pulling off an expedition as ambitious as this one requires the teamwork of several experts and the collaboration of multiple institutions. The Ocean Exploration Cooperative Institute (OECI) has brought together a group of people that includes a breadth of skillsets and depth of experience. In partnership with the newly designated Lake Ontario National Marine Sanctuary, we are documenting some of Lake Ontario’s historic wrecks with an unprecedented level of precision and technical expertise.

Before joining this team, I had never visited the Great Lakes and I knew next to nothing about this region. That changed as soon as we arrived in Oswego, New York, and I met Bet Ioset in person for the first time. A native of Sherburne, New York, Ben started scuba diving in Lake Ontario when he was 14-years-old and immediately became captivated by the history and mystery associated with the shipwrecks here.

Now, as a maritime archeologist for the National Sanctuary Foundation, Ben is living out his childhood dreams — which is evident in every conversation and interaction I have with him.

During our second day on board the R/V Lake Guardian, I set up my camera to film Ben as he explains the traditional process for generating photo models of a shipwreck.

By using a small, nimble remotely operated vehicle (ROV), we will be able to do the same thing in a fraction of the time, in much deeper water. The University of Rhode Island (where OECI is based) just purchased this new ROV from JM Robotics and named it Rhody.

While I’m accustomed to working around much larger vehicles, like ROV Hercules and ROV Jason (which are the size of cars) Rhody is the size of a coffee table — and it’s the perfect tool for this job.

**Small but mighty**: *Rhody* enters the water for its very first dive in Lake Ontario.

I’ve sailed with Jason Fahy on multiple expeditions aboard Nautilus, and I’ve always appreciated his leadership style. He regularly asks for advice and guidance from members of the team, and he doesn’t mind when strongly opinionated people (ahem, yours truly) tell him how to do something. So I wasn’t surprised to see the all-star lineup of people Jason pulled together for this expedition team, but I have been blown away by one person in particular — our deputy expedition leader, Holly Pettus. During countless planning meetings over the past few months, I have been so impressed with her high level of organization, solid communication, and seemingly endless patience. Holly makes things happen, and she makes my job much easier.

Now that we’ve been on the ship for a few days, I’ve enjoyed watching Holly excel at her job. She is a natural leader and a true boss lady, but her tenacious work ethic doesn’t make her rigid or unapproachable. On the contrary, she is a joy to be around — a fact I greatly appreciate since we are sharing both a makeshift office space and a tiny cabin. We spend a lot of time together, and I delight in every minute of her company.

**Our indomitable Deputy Expedition Leader**: Holly Pettus runs a tight ship, and I’m extremely grateful for her vibrant energy and strong leadership.

This morning, Holly is on point as usual — setting up our professional lighting and microphones with brisk efficiency before opening up the laptop to start a video call with a group at the University of Rhode Island. Adam Soule, Executive Director of OECI, appears on the screen with 30 middle school students.

After some quick introductions and explanation of our expedition objectives, Holly and I show Adam and the students live footage of the wreck that Rhody is currently exploring.

“No humans have seen this wreck before,” Holly says. “It’s too deep for scuba divers to reach and this is the first time it’s been imaged by an ROV.”

The students are young, but I hope they can appreciate how unique and rare it is to see video footage like this.

Because Holly and I both know Adam, the tone of this particular Ship-to-Shore presentation is conversational — just a couple friends chatting about this really cool thing that’s never been done before.

“Why are there so many wrecks in Lake Ontario?” Adam asks.

I respond with a joke that Ben told us yesterday.

“That’s a great question, Adam. Here’s a joke for you: how do you get across Lake Ontario?”

Adam smiles. “I don’t know — how?”

“You don’t!”

This nerdy bit of humor elicits a chuckle from Adam, but the dramatic weather systems that regularly sweep across the Great Lakes are no laughing matter — Holly and I describe the large swells we encountered as soon as the Lake Guardian left port on the first day of our expedition. Many of the shipwrecks we’re examining met their untimely demise due to extreme weather conditions, although a few were attributed to human error or mechanical malfunctions. The cause of some wrecks remains a mystery.

"Adam, you’ve spent a lot of time at sea — you know how when we’re out in the middle of the ocean and conditions are flat calm? We always say it’s like a lake! Well that sentiment has been turned upside down for me. I don’t think I will ever use that analogy again.”

Our casual banter creates an inviting space for the students to voice their curiosities. They ask us a great series of questions about what it’s like to live and work on a research vessel . Where do you sleep? What do you eat? What happens if you get injured? They also repeat a question we’ve been asked several times: how many shipwrecks are there?

We explain that the exact number of shipwrecks in the lake is unknown.

“According to Ben, a conservative estimate would be over 100 — and that’s just within the boundaries of the sanctuary,” I say. “If you’re considering the entire lake, it’s probably closer to 400.”

Probably. Maybe. We don’t know. The implication of these phrases boggles my mind. Even with all our advancements in technology, here in the year 2025, we still don’t know the exact location of all the ships that have sunk in this body of water. In that way, the Great Lakes are not so different from the ocean — there is still so much to discover and learn – and that’s one of the main reasons we’re out here.

05.22.2025

It’s late in the evening, but I feel wide awake as I edit photos from a wreck called the Farmer’s Daughter. The images are haunting, ethereal. Staring at them feels like traveling back in time – and in many ways, examining these wrecks is a kind of time travel.

I’m sitting in the main lab with Holly and Jason — we’re crammed around a small table, talking intermittently as we work on our laptops.

Holly voices some of what I’ve been thinking as I edit this imagery.

“Imagine living in a time when ships were constantly seeking – but that was the most common mode of transportation,” Holly says. “You just had to roll the dice every time you got on board.”

“It’s how people will think about cars 200 years from now,” I say. “In the year 2200, they will look back at us and think what the hell? People were getting in wrecks constantly!”

“Because humans were driving the cars!” Jason says, laughing.

We talk more about the advancement of science and engineering. One of the reasons so many ships sank on this lake in centuries past is because they didn’t have the benefit of modern weather forecasting tools. The simple act of being able to check the weather — a daily convenience so many of us take for granted — wouldn’t be possible without institutions like the National Weather Service.

05.23.2025

At our morning meeting, Jason infuses the team with his characteristic joy, citing our success thus far — we have been out here for just over a week and we’ve already surveyed ten wrecks.

“This is going exceptionally well,” he says. “This team is absolutely killing it.”

And we’re about to take it to another level: in two hours, we are planning to start streaming live footage of a dive on a particularly complex wreck. I can’t help but feel nervous as we prepare for the livestream — what if something goes wrong while all these people are watching? What if the tether gets tangled in the rigging? What if we have technical issues?

I’ve been involved in enough expeditions to know that things can do sideways at the worst possible moment. I voice some of my anxieties to Jason.

“We should have a code word — in case you’re speaking on camera and there’s an emergency situation.”

Jason is unfazed. “If there’s a problem, just tell me — I think it’ll be fine.”

As Holly and I go on camera to introduce the livestream, I still feel a bit jittery, but my nerves dissipate as the dive progresses. Holly rotates through interview questions with multiple members of our team, while I photograph and film the pilots deftly maneuvering Rhody around maasive amounts of old rigging.

When I check my email halfway through the livestream event, I see multiple messages from editors at The New York Times. They want to do a final fact-check on their reporting. I grab Jason and we respond to them promptly.

By the time the livestream ends, I am dazed. I don’t know if I have ever multi-tasked at this level before: being on camera, then being behind the camera, then e-mailing editors at one of the world’s most renown publications, then being on camera again.

Two hours later, I’m in the gym when Jason sends a link to our WhatsApp chat – The New York Times has just published their story on our expedition! The article includes a link to our livestream video, wreck footage I edited, and three of my photos.

I read the article while walking on the treadmill, feeling a surreal sense of joy and disbelief. When I finish it, I crank up the speed to start running, and I think about my 20-year-old self — a young college student who felt out of place in the highly competitive journalism program at UNC-Chapel Hill. Then I recall my 22-year-old self, who had a college degree, but didn’t have a job. Like many early-career professionals, my 20’s were filled with insecurities and imposter syndrome.

I wish I could go back in time and tell young Marley about today.

05.27.2025

Packing and preparing to leave a ship always comes with a mixed bag of emotions — especially this time around because I’m leaving two days early. I’ve never left before the official end of a project before (and I wish I didn’t have to depart now) but I have to get to the other side of the world for my next expedition.

After showing the team a rough cut of the expedition trailer video, I go around the main lab, exchanging hugs, handshakes, and sweet farewells. Holly and Joe carry my bags out to the back deck. It’s drizzling and cold, and I carefully navigate the slipper gangway to disembark the ship.

When I turn around, I see ten of my shipmates gathered on the back deck, waving and smiling. The thoughtful send-off fills me with joy and gratitude. What a phenomenal group of people.

I wave and yell, “I’ll drink a pina colada for you in Guam!” then climb into what is arguably the most badass Uber ride I’ve ever seen — a four-wheel drive F250 truck driven by a tough woman named Katrina. When I stop waving to my shipmates, she starts asking me questions about the ship and what we’ve been doing.

I briefly explain the intricacies of modern day shipwreck hunting — the sonar, the ROV, the depth of the shipwrecks, the expertise of the team.

Katrina’s eyes go wide. “Wow! That sounds epic!”

I feel dazed – it’s hard to describe how meaningful it was to be a part of this expedition. So I just smile and nod in agreement. “Yeah, it was definitely epic.”

A look behind the scenes

The Shipwreck Hunters