Standing in the oil-slicked marsh of Barataria Bay along the Gulf Coast in Louisiana, Ryan Perry, a second-year Ph.D. student in microbiology, eases a metal core sampler down through the murky water and deep into the soil.  

"It's like the consistency of butter," Perry said as he held up a core of foul-smelling mud. "That smell is hydrogen sulfide, and if you mix oil into it, it'll make you even more nauseous." 

That putrid mud, however, may hold the key to restoring the bay, along with the rest of the Louisiana coastline, much of which has been coated with oil as a result of the Deepwater Horizon oil spill.

Perry is with a team of GSU scientists who are testing a way to encourage the bacteria that live in marshes and break down organic matter - producing that swampy, rotten egg smell associated with hydrogen sulfide - to feast on the oil. These tiny bacteria are already born oil eaters: They gobble up the small amounts that naturally seep from the ocean floor.

"The oil has provided them with a food source," Perry said. "We just want to give them a little nudge."

In hopes of doing this, they have sprayed clay minerals on three experimental plots. The minerals have a high electrical charge, which they believe will help the bacteria gain nutrients and will stimulate their appetite.  

The scientists have brought samples of seawater and chunks of sediment back to GSU labs for further analysis. They will return to the marshes for more samples every month into the spring.

Daniel Deocampo, assistant professor of geosciences, said the team is hoping to have preliminary data by spring - a quick turnaround for research, he noted. 

"Any time we can shave off the timeline for ecological restoration of the Gulf Coast, it will have tangible economic and ecological impacts," Deocampo said.

After a hot, muggy day in the marshes spreading the clay mixture and gathering samples, the GSU team headed back to one of the few rental houses available (BP workers had snapped up most of the lodging).

On their journey across the bay, they were reminded of the importance of their work. Shrimp trawlers were stationary at the docks, and along the highway, homemade signs mourned a way of life that has been shattered by perhaps the worst environmental disaster in U.S. history.

Still, signs of hope remain. As the boat zipped across the choppy waters, Perry spotted one.

"Look," he said. "Dolphins!"