I fell in love with the ocean when I was just a little kid, four or five years old, I was a junior ranger, I was going out and doing intertidal stuff, walking around and sticking my finger in my first sea anemone and picking up starfish and all that. It gripped me when I was young.
The first mission to Mars did not expect to find craters and river valleys, and yet they did. The first mission to Jupiter didn't expect to find ocean worlds and volcano worlds, but they did.
Our oceans cover two-thirds of what my grandfather called our water planet, and the part of the ocean that falls under the jurisdiction of the United States covers an area larger than the country itself.
Kidney transplants seem so routine now. But the first one was like Lindbergh's flight across the ocean.
Most sponges in the ocean are sedentary: They attach themselves to a rock and sit and filter-feed the rest of their lives and reproduce, and that's about it. Not that they are not interesting, but they are not that kinetic. They are not mobile. They don't cook Krabbie Patties!
Most of the Amazon basin is as flat as a pancake and laced with extravagantly meandering waterways. One school of thought holds that more than 145 million years ago, when Africa and South America were joined, the Amazon's main stem was connected to the Niger River and actually flowed in the opposite direction, toward the Pacific Ocean.
In the United States, we do a pretty good job of protecting iconic landscapes and postcard views, but the ocean gets no respect.
The ocean is 90% unexplored. It's a great canvas to paint Aquaman stories across, just like Green Lantern has space. It's more organic, which makes it different and interesting. It's alien, but it's terrestrial.
Civilization is like a thin layer of ice upon a deep ocean of chaos and darkness.
Over the years, I found myself traveling parts of the Lewis and Clark Trail, putting my hands in the river where they set out from St. Louis, viewing the Great Falls of Montana, standing by the same Pacific Ocean they saw with such joy.
After I posted the picture of Frank Ocean, I think his little brother called him and said the picture was all over the Internet, so Frank Ocean was like, 'I'm not on social media like that, but it's cool. I'm not mad about it.'
This is just a long shot, but I definitely would want to work with Frank Ocean. He's the man.
But more wonderful than the lore of old men and the lore of books is the secret lore of ocean.
I swim a lot, almost every day. I just go out to the beach by my place in Malibu and jump into the ocean.
The ocean is a mighty harmonist.
There is a terribly terrestrial mindset about what we need to do to take care of the planet - as if the ocean somehow doesn't matter or is so big, so vast that it can take care of itself, or that there is nothing that we could possibly do that we could harm the ocean.
Scientific thought and the miraculous unconscious are two waves in the same ocean.
In the spring of 1996, I was working for Nickelodeon on a show called 'Rocko's Modern Life,' and I was interested at the time in doing a show about the ocean, an undersea show.
Just as we have the power to harm the ocean, we have the power to put in place policies and modify our own behavior in ways that would be an insurance policy for the future of the sea, for the creatures there, and for us, protecting special critical areas in the ocean.
There's this fabulous innovation ship called Unreasonable at Sea, where I'm a mentor. One of the companies there was called Protei, and they're an open hardware ocean exploration and monitoring idea.
