Absolutely! Last week I was trawling through a giant kelp grove off Oregon and found a little cluster of sea lilies clinging to a frond that looked like a tiny temple. The kelp moves in a slow, almost graceful dance with the tide, and the sea lilies use their arms to filter the water. I’ve been measuring how fast that kelp grows—turns out it can absorb CO2 faster than most marine plants, helping to offset ocean acidification. I got so caught up that I forgot lunch until the tide was up.

I swear the tide’s rhythm is a blueprint for protection plans. I’m drafting a proposal to use kelp farms as living carbon sinks that also act as natural breakwaters—so the waves are tamed and the water stays cleaner. And yes, the tide stole my sandwich, but I’m convinced the seaweed will regrow it in a day or two, or at least provide a feast of algae for the next dive.

I was out on a late‑night dive, chasing a current that turned a patch of kelp into a living cushion for a curious dolphin. The dolphin slid off the kelp, and I watched the waves hit the fronds and bounce back like a giant pillow. I thought, “If that can hold a dolphin, it can hold waves.” Then I remembered how the kelp pulls in CO2 while it grows. So the idea was born: grow kelp to act as a lung for the sea and a pillow for the waves. And of course the kelp kept me fed – I just swam by a patch of algae that looked like a salad!