For local army of citizen scientists, helping lagoon is ‘personal’
STORY BY STEVE CHAMBERS (Week of April 30, 2026)
On the afternoon of Tuesday, April 14, dozens of people gathered at the headquarters of the Ocean Research and Conservation Association at 1235 16th Street in Vero Beach for a citizen scientist recruitment event.
April happens to be citizen science month, but there was nothing momentous about the occasion on the surface. ORCA hosts these events periodically. Most people already are at least somewhat familiar with the idea of citizen science, and many know that ORCA uses citizen scientists.
But fewer people are aware of the power and importance of the phenomenon, which now enables much of the most important environmental research taking place around the planet – and along the Indian River Lagoon.
“Citizen science projects have been remarkably successful in advancing scientific knowledge, and contributions from citizen scientists now provide a vast quantity of data about species occurrence and distribution around the world,” according to Harvard University.
NASA has 40 citizen science projects underway, not for fun or for show, but in pursuit of its most serious scientific goals, and Smithsonian Institution is collaborating this month with other organizations “to encourage public participation in real research, aiming for 2.5 million ‘Acts of Science’ in 2026,” according to SciStarter.org.
Right here in Vero Beach, where ORCA founder and chief scientist Edie Widder has built one of the most notable citizen science programs in Florida, the people collecting essential environmental data in the lagoon often are not accredited scientists – but they’re doing the work that makes the science possible.
Founded in 2005, ORCA spent years developing its citizen science approach at the old Coast Guard station on the south shore of the Fort Pierce Inlet before opening its current Vero Beach headquarters in 2024. Today, the organization employs 20 staff, including four academically trained scientists, assisted by some 150 busy citizen scientists.
“We don’t have citizen science projects per se,” said Widder. “We incorporate citizen scientists into our regular science projects.”
That distinction matters because what ORCA has built isn’t a volunteer program that supports science. It’s a research model that depends on it.
Asked what would happen if those citizen scientists disappeared, and the answer is emphatic. “There’s no way we could do this … the scope of what we do,” said research associate Lauren Kleiman.
It’s not just extra hands. It’s capacity.
ORCA’s ongoing One Health fish monitoring program has analyzed more than 1,500 fish. Much of that work has been and is being done by trained volunteers wading into the current with nets and notebooks.
“If you have five fish, it doesn’t really tell you much,” Kleiman said. But 1,500 does. That scale reveals patterns that would otherwise stay hidden.
In one case, early samples suggested elevated mercury levels in Martin County fish. With more data, the picture changed. The science got sharper.
In another instance, the citizen science-enabled data revealed something more unsettling.
“We found widespread distribution of glyphosate ... in virtually all the fish that we tested,” Widder said. Glyphosate is the active ingredient in Roundup.
ORCA’s work focuses on identifying pollution before it spreads.
“The trick is you want to get it stopped before it enters the lagoon,” Widder said. “You cannot take the cream out of the coffee [once it is poured].”
In other research powered in part by citizen scientists water samples showed elevated nutrients near a shoreline. ORCA worked with local stakeholders to introduce a buffer between lawns and seawalls.
“We found a significant reduction in phosphate levels [with buffers in place],” Widder said.
That data gathered largely by volunteers led to policy. The City of Vero Beach now requires a 10-foot buffer zone on new waterfront properties. From field sample to local law.
When excess nutrients enter waterways, they can fuel toxic algae blooms. And when those blooms take hold, the consequences extend beyond the marine environment.
During the 2016 toxic blue-green algae bloom in the St. Lucie River and estuary near the St. Lucie Inlet, hospital admissions in the region spiked.
“Martin Memorial Hospital had a huge uptick in people being admitted for respiratory issues,” Widder said.
The toxins associated with these blooms have been linked to liver damage and neurological diseases, including Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s.
So what the citizens scientists are doing matters – in their own lives and the lives of their families, friends and neighbors.
“This is about protecting our life support machinery,” Widder said.
ORCA’s citizen scientists are trained to the same standards as staff. They use the same protocols and equipment.
“They really become a part of our team,” Kleiman said.
The work is demanding.
“It is dirty, hot, miserable work [sometimes],” Widder said. And yet participation continues to grow. Because the impact is not just scientific. It’s personal.
“They become advocates for our research, for the lagoon,” Kleiman said.
Participants bring what they learn back into their communities, into conversations, and into decision-making spaces.
Faith Collins joined ORCA as a volunteer in 2023 and is now a full-time staff member.
“Working at ORCA as a citizen scientist has been an honor,” Collins said. “It truly feels like you can engulf yourself in science and actually understand and enjoy it [while helping the lagoon].”
ORCA has drawn thousands of students into citizen science through programs like A Day in the Life of the Indian River Lagoon, which involves approximately 500 middle and high school students each year in real-world data collection. Besides helping the world, working as citizen scientists bolsters children’s capability and self-esteem as they discover not just scientific facts but their own agency and ability to make a positive difference in the world.
What ORCA has built is more than a research program. It’s a feedback loop between science and community. People collect the data. They understand it. Then they bring it back into the community.
That’s when change happens.
“The data is certainly powerful,” Widder said. “But the people are much more powerful … because the data does nothing unless we have people advocating for what it means.”
“Citizen science data is used extensively in studies” undertaken by the UN, NOAA, the EPA, National Geographic and the National Park Service among many other prominent social and scientific organizations, according to Frontier, one of the largest and most cited research publishers in the world. And here in Vero, citizen scientists have helped build one of the most quietly effective environmental research efforts in the state, which has made contributions to understanding and beginning to repair the Indian River Lagoon that are, in fact, momentous.


