These Florida shark taggers are scientists — and also drag queens. It’s a fierce crew

Miss Toto broke three nails on the first shark of the day.

She cradled the six-foot nurse shark firmly, yet gently, on a floating platform attached to the rear of research vessel Garvin while researchers swarmed her, taking samples and checking the shark for parasites. Unlike the other scientists, who were wearing matching long-sleeved sun shirts and buffs, Toto was in a swirly patterned string bikini, a long pink wig, acrylic nails — and full drag makeup.

A drag queen with an aquaculture masters from the University of Miami, Miss Toto was the opening act — and driving force behind — what may be Miami’s fiercest fundraiser: Drag n Tag.

The event combines flashy acts from local drag queens with a day on Biscayne Bay with some of Miami’s top shark scientists, catching, tagging and releasing sharks as a fundraiser for queer youth in South Florida.

Now in its third year, the science element remains essentially unchanged, but attendees and hosts agree that Florida’s legislative attacks on LGBTQ rights have given this lighthearted fundraiser a more politically subversive edge.

That’s fine with the owners of the boat, the Field School. In 2015, several colleagues at the University of Miami scraped together all the cash they could manage to buy a beat-up old yacht. It took them nearly a year of hard work to transform it into a research vessel capable of traversing the ocean between Miami and the Bahamas.

While the Field School is a for-profit company that hires itself out to visiting researchers, it also hosts educational programs for students, especially people from marginalized communities. Their vessel flies two flags, the Black Lives Matter flag and the Progress Pride flag.

“Science is not always welcoming. That is changing, but not fast enough,” said Julia Wester, director of program development for the Field School and associate director of UM’s Ecosystem Science and Policy program.

She said the RV Garvin was always meant to be a safe space for anyone, especially women, people of color and queer people. And in the six years it’s been afloat, they’ve had students from all around the world on board. Some of them, Wester said, told her it’s the first time they’ve ever felt welcome in science.

“If they’ve seen it done better here, they know it doesn’t have to be that way,” she said.

Catherine MacDonald, co-founder and director of the Field School and director of UM’s shark research and conservation program, mortgaged her home to afford what is now the RV Garvin. She said her queer students regularly tell her how important the program is to them, and to her, the Drag n Tag event is an extension of that support.

So despite the recent attitude shift in Florida toward drag queens and trans people, including the singling out of Miami drag brunch restaurant R House by Gov. Ron DeSantis, the expansion of the “don’t say gay” bill and recent rollbacks for trans healthcare access in the state, MacDonald said hosting this event was more important this year than ever.

“It’s important for our students to know that anyone that’s targeting them is targeting us,” she said. “We want to be in the line of fire for them.”

A marriage of sharks and drag

Miami brought sharks and drag to Miss Toto’s life simultaneously. She was attending the University of Miami, earning her master’s degree in aquaculture, when she first dipped a toe in the drag world. At the same time, she was invited to join some of her classmates in UM’s shark tagging program, and she quickly fell in love with the science.

The idea of combining the two halves of her world on the RV Garvin for a fundraiser for queer youth felt like a natural conclusion, she said. And her classmates were totally on board.

Now in its third year, Toto said Drag n Tag is the continuation of the theme at the heart of the Field School: creating a safe space for minorities to fall in love with marine science.

“Not only as a queer person, but as a Black person, marine science is very white-dominated and very male-dominated. I didn’t see any representation. If you’re not feeling represented, how do you feel comfortable?” she said. “It’s more than just the money, it’s about being here and being visible.”

Last year, combined with matching grants, they raised about $9,000, and they’re hoping to top that this year.

All money raised on this trip goes to Pridelines, a program that’s been supporting queer kids in South Florida since Anita Bryant started her anti-gay “save the children” campaign in 1982.

Daniel Molloy, director of grants and programming for Pridelines, said the money will go directly toward providing hotel rooms, showers and laundry facilities for kids facing homelessness, as well as time with therapists, health care and transportation assistance. Pridelines has helped struggling LGBTQ youth from as far away as Wisconsin or undocumented immigrants from Guatemala.

“We never turn anyone down,” he said.

Support for the day’s event was evident before it even left the dock A woman in a hat and long-sleeved sun shirt shouted “Miss Toto!” and waved frantically as she and her family slowly motored past on their way out of the marina. Two young girls on board beamed and waved too, staring in awe at the tall, muscled drag queen and her long, pink wig.

“So refreshing for Florida,” an attendee remarked with a smile.

Welcome to the stage

Once the vessel was safely a few miles out in Biscayne Bay, the Field School staff on board started stringing chunks of blue-striped bonita on a special shark-catching hook called a circle hook.

On this day, the goal was to catch bigger sharks at the bottom of the sea, a process known as long lining. Once about twenty lines attached to neon-colored buoys are safely sunk, there’s about an hour wait for the sharks to discover the tasty treats waiting for them.

That’s just enough time for three performances, starting with Miss Toto.

Despite the rollicking waves, she leaped off the top of the boat and landed on the deck in a full split in a fluttery costume patterned after a tropical fish as she lip-synced to “Starships” by Nikki Minaj.

Attendees gathered at the back of the boat to hoot, holler and cheer for the performers, which also included Viola Putx, a regular at Miami drag events like Gramps’ Double Stubble. Clad in a long sports jersey and bejeweled elf ears, she slunk all over the deck of the boat, high kicking and twerking to the beat of Miami-classic “Tití Me Preguntó” by Bad Bunny.

As the last beats of the energetic Bad Bunny song faded, the final performer of the afternoon emerged in a pink, off-the-shoulder ball gown and chunky costume jewelry. Opal Am Rah strutted out to the opening lines of a marine classic, Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On.”

Raucous laughter quickly turned to cheers as Opal preened, posed and lip-synced to the song. At the final crescendo, she flung her arms out wide and took a deep bow, closing out the show.

Afterward, Opal Am Rah said that other than trying to maintain her balance while dancing on a moving ship, this event was also different because it felt like such an open and public expression of queer joy in a space where it isn’t normally seen.

“We don’t need less of this,” she said. “We need more of this.”

Before the performers had enough time to stop sweating, it was time for the second half of the day.

“Shark on!” called a member of the Field School team, as the baited line they were hauling in suddenly went taut.

A few moments later, a six-foot-long tawny nurse shark emerged from the water, the hook firmly in her mouth. Miss Toto, MacDonald and a few others leaped onto the submerged platform at the ship’s stern and wrestled the shark out of the water.

“Welcome to the stage,” quipped Viola Putx.

Once the shark is safely secured, a scientific pit crew descends.

The duties are split between citizen scientists on the boat and research scientists, but in under six minutes the shark is measured in multiple ways, blood samples and skin swabs are taken, a snip of its fin is removed for genetic testing, a muscle biopsy is scooped out for some and — most importantly — a tag with a unique identifier is hammered into its skin.

In the case of the nurse shark, which has a more armored exterior than other sharks, the hammer part is literal. Volunteers use a rubber mallet to tap the tiny tag into place just under the shark’s top fin. One described the feeling as pushing a nail into a watermelon, a hard exterior rind that the nail punctuates with a quick pop.

And then the shark is on its way, with a mouthful of fish as a reward for its contributions to the scientific field.

Viola Putx, a lifelong Miamian, said it was her first time on a boat. For her, the experience was full of wonder. She’d never seen a shark up close and personal, and when it was her turn to help with gathering information, she ran her hand down the nurse shark’s back reverently.

“I couldn’t miss out on an opportunity like this,” she said. “We have so much to learn from the Earth and each other.”