From the moment he could walk along the shoreline, Matthew Blendermann felt a pull toward the water. The sea wasn’t just a backdrop to his childhood, it was a teacher. He watched the rhythm of the waves, the movement of fish, and the fragile balance that kept ocean life alive. That early fascination grew into a calling.
Today, Matthew is part of a generation shaping aquaculture — a field that’s still finding its footing but holds promise for feeding the world in sustainable ways. He doesn’t call himself a pioneer, though he’s part of a young industry that depends on curiosity, patience, and persistence. “I just want to help make a better future for our ocean planet,” he says. That simple goal has guided every move he’s made.
Matthew graduated from the University of New England with a Bachelor of Science in Aquaculture and Aquarium Science, one of the few programs in the country offering this field when he attended. He describes it as “new, challenging, and full of room to grow.” His love for marine life didn’t start in a classroom, though.
It began in the curiosity that led him to explore the ocean’s depths. First as a diver, then as a PADI Enriched Air Divemaster, a certification that represents skill, safety, and leadership underwater. Earning that title wasn’t about collecting credentials. It was about mastering the craft and opening doors to work that blends science and the sea. The accomplishment marked a turning point. A visible sign that his passion could be his profession.
In an industry that’s still developing, Matthew learned early that reputation travels fast. “Cooperation and maintaining a positive attitude have always helped me build trust with people I work with,” he explains. It’s not about being loud or chasing titles. It’s about being reliable.
Colleagues know he’s the kind of person who tackles a problem from start to finish without cutting corners. He doesn’t rush through tasks or let familiarity dull his focus. “If I take something on, I’m going to see it through,” he says.
That mindset, steady, calm, and intentional, has carried him through both the everyday and the unexpected. For Matthew, reputation isn’t built by showmanship. It’s built by how you treat people, the honesty you bring to the job, and the patience you show when things get tough.
While others chase the idea of becoming the best, Matthew focuses on becoming better. He doesn’t see growth as a race. He sees it as a rhythm, one that moves at the pace of effort and attention. “I always want to keep learning and improving,” he says. That drive isn’t about ambition for its own sake. It’s about curiosity and the joy that comes with understanding something new. He’s quick to admit he’s not chasing perfection.
Instead, he’s collecting experiences, reading research papers, following new studies, and keeping up with the evolution of aquaculture. To him, staying informed is a form of respect for the work. Reading, he says, is how you sharpen your instincts and prepare for the next opportunity.
Like many new industries, aquaculture faces its share of misconceptions. Matthew points out that early mistakes in nearshore salmon farming created a lingering sense of doubt in the public eye. “People still carry that perception,” he says, “but aquaculture today is not what it was twenty years ago.” He believes that if more people understood how aquaculture can produce food sustainably, interest and support would grow. For him, the challenge isn’t just technical — it’s educational. He wants to see the field evolve with both integrity and public trust.
That’s what keeps him motivated during difficult times: the vision of a future where aquaculture helps feed communities without harming the environment.
If you ask Matthew about the moments that shaped him, he won’t start with a big project or an award. He’ll talk about people. “Mike Muller at Olympus Dive Center,” he says, “taught me more through patience and kindness than anyone else.” Mike wasn’t just a mentor, he was a model for how to lead by example. “He always went the extra mile for those he mentored,” Matthew recalls. That experience showed him the kind of mentor he hopes to become: steady, supportive, and adaptable.
Now, as he gains more experience, he’s passing that approach on. “I mentor newer coworkers on building better habits and keeping good morale,” he says. He’s learned that mentorship works best when it feels natural. When conversations turn into lessons and lessons turn into confidence. It’s not about control. It’s about creating space for people to grow at their own pace.
Over time, Matthew’s view of mentoring has shifted. He used to throw himself fully into teaching, eager to share everything he knew as quickly as possible. But he’s learned that sometimes, the best teaching comes from stepping back. “People need to figure things out on their own sometimes,” he says. That insight didn’t just make him a better mentor — it made him a better learner too. Mentoring, for him, isn’t a one-way street. It’s a cycle of growth.
As he helps others find their way, he’s constantly refining his own patience and understanding. “The impact mentoring has had on me is hard to measure,” he says. “It’s shaped how I work and how I live.”
The ocean is unpredictable. It rewards those who stay calm and punishes those who rush. Matthew carries that lesson with him, whether he’s on a dive, reading a new study, or mentoring a coworker. He’s learned that progress isn’t about speed, it’s about steadiness. And like the sea, his career has tides.
There are moments of deep challenge and moments of great reward. What keeps him grounded is perspective. “The most you can do is your best,” he says, repeating a piece of advice that stuck with him. “And your best changes from day to day. Everyone’s the same way.” It’s a reminder that even in a field built on precision and care, grace matters.
When asked where he thinks aquaculture will be in ten years, Matthew doesn’t pretend to know. He smiles at the uncertainty. “That’s the exciting part,” he says. “There’s so much room for growth.” He hopes that growth leads toward sustainability,toward systems that feed people and protect the planet. For him, that’s the real reward.
He’s also open to change, even considering moving abroad to join communities where aquaculture is thriving. He’s not chasing fame or recognition.,He’s chasing purpose. And purpose, for Matthew, often looks like curiosity put into action.
Outside of work, Matthew’s curiosity doesn’t stop. He spends his free time writing fiction — stories that, unsurprisingly, often tie back to the sea. Writing, he says, is another way of exploring what’s below the surface.
He’s currently working on his first novel, mixing his love of storytelling with his understanding of marine life. When he’s not writing, he’s on the road — taking long trips through unfamiliar places, finding peace in open spaces. He hikes, dives, and takes photos, collecting memories like seashells. Each one reminds him that there’s always more to see and more to learn.
If there’s a thread running through everything Matthew Blendermann does, it’s balance. Balance between ambition and patience. Between knowledge and humility. Between the pull of the unknown and the comfort of what he’s mastered. He doesn’t rush success. He builds it one dive, one study, one act of kindness at a time.
He doesn’t see himself as the face of aquaculture’s future, but his path tells a story about where the field is heading, toward mindful progress and human connection.
As the industry evolves, Matthew will be there, learning, teaching, and protecting the same ocean that started it all.
When asked for a quote that captures his outlook, Matthew chose one from Marcus Aurelius: “Waste no more time arguing about what a good man should be. Be one.” Those words fit him perfectly. He’s not here to argue about what success should look like. He’s here to live it quietly, steadily, and with purpose. Because whether he’s guiding others, studying aquaculture, or writing stories inspired by the sea, Matthew Blendermann is proof that growth isn’t loud. It’s consistent. And like the ocean, it’s deeper than it looks.
