Martin Rayner (1934–2022) had three loves: his family, science, and the sea.
I had the privilege of working with Martin for eight years, from 1987 until 1995. Together with John Starkus, Martin made a series of discoveries about voltage-gated sodium channels that were both elegant and durable. Martin passed away on March 24, 2022, peacefully and painlessly and in the company of the love of his life, his wife Penny.
The Starkus and Rayner team was well-known in the ion channels world for the work they did together at the Bekesy Laboratory at the University of Hawaii. Using crayfish giant axons to study ionic and gating currents, John and Martin pushed the envelope of knowledge about sodium and potassium channel biophysics. Taking advantage of the abundant populations of crayfish in the stream that runs through Manoa Valley (where the lab was located), as well as occasional crayfish-collecting trips to the watercress fields in Aeia, Martin’s work promoted the giant axon of the tasty crustacean Procambarus clarkii as a viable preparation to study ion channel gating. Early research from the team discovered that ON and OFF gating current properties in crayfish were like those in squid. In another study, methylene blue was used to probe the kinetics of channel block. Later, the team used D2O and hyperosmotic solutions to kinetically separate the voltage-dependent gating mechanism of sodium channels from hydration of the pore. Around the time when I joined the team, the research shifted to slow inactivation in sodium channels. Later work was influenced by a productive partnership with Stefan Heinemann, focusing on potassium channel gating mechanisms and building on some of the same principles as the team had discovered earlier in sodium channels.
Martin was a gifted scientist who could manipulate complex models of channel gating as deftly in his mind as he could on a computer. He was a wonderful mentor and supervised students and postdocs who went on to have their own notable careers as scientists and physicians. Among them are Andrea Fleig (Queens Medical Center, University of Hawaii), Marilou Andres (Pacific Biomedical Research Center, University of Hawaii), and Dan Alicata (University of Hawaii School of Medicine).
Martin was a true gentleman and an old school hippy; his daily uniform was shorts, an aloha shirt, and Birkenstocks. He loved the islands and the island culture and, most of all, the ocean. Martin first arrived in Hawaii via a 30-foot sailboat. Later, Martin and Penny raised three children, Sarah, Nick, and Jeremy, while living on a beautiful wooden sailboat named Kealaakala (meaning “the path of the sun”). I had the unbridled joy of sailing with Martin and his family on a few occasions. One such trip was a gentle starlit night crossing from Moloka’i to Oahu with Penny and Martin. Another, less gentle, trip was into the infamously treacherous Alenuihaha Channel between Maui and the big island of Hawai’i to watch a total solar eclipse. We were along for the ride with Martin and his kids and their friends. In the middle of the rough passage, the kids dug into a bucket of fried chicken, with predictable results, while Martin looked on in complete amusement.
Martin was amused by almost everything. He had a perpetual twinkle in his eye which, along with his long white beard, would stop little kids in their tracks at Christmas time: a Hawaiian Santa in an aloha shirt and Birkenstocks.
Martin didn’t take himself too seriously. His sage advice was, “Be careful to not breathe too much of your own ether.” He did, however, take his research very seriously. Martin was curious and careful, not one to overinterpret data or, in his words, “Don’t fit so many exponentials that you end up with an elephant.” He was a kind and patient teacher, a gentle mentor, and deeply respected by the biophysics community. I recall when the British physiologist and Charles Darwin’s great-grandson, Richard Keynes, visited our lab. We were all slightly star-struck except for Martin, who was his usual, unflappable, easy-going self: a British gentleman scientist in an aloha shirt and shorts.
Martin had a fondness for good food and good drink. When we went to conferences on the mainland, he always knew the best places to find both. Once–I think it was in Phoenix–we walked what seemed like most of the way across the city to find just the right Mexican restaurant, Martin in the lead, setting a brisk, appetite-driven pace in his Birkenstocks.
Martin’s superior knowledge of biophysics helped pave my career in science. His gentle good nature taught me much about how to mentor my own trainees. With his casual style and love of life, Martin served as a role model for me. I am deeply grateful for the time I knew Martin Rayner and, although our paths diverged many years ago, I will always miss him.
—Peter Ruben