We're slowly headed into port and everyone aboard is tidying up their personal and scientific things to make offloading go as smoothly as possible. Nothing much to report, as all I've done since my last post was pretty much sleep, although during that time a niggling little eye irritation in my starboard eye has turned ugly - inflamed, red, sensitive, watery and aching. I'm wearing my sunglasses everywhere today to shield my friends from the ugly truth. I'm not sure if this condition is more painful to me or to an observer forced to see it. I'll be visiting my eye doctor ASAP.
Aloha,
Patricia
Monday, July 6, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Wrapping up
We did eat those mahimahi for dinner - chief steward prepared them deliciously with herbs and nuts (and evidently I'd miscounted - a total of 7 were caught. Some math teacher . . . ) We also ate the two small tuna (aku) which were caught later in the day.
I got to tour the engine room today. I was noisy, clean, spacious and interesting. (I expected a dark, cramped, and perhaps greasy place, and it was none of that.) I wore ear protection (my new friends for this trip anyway) and was still astonished at the volume level.
We've finished our work here at Station ALOHA (that's an acronym, I'm not shouting) and we're headed back to port with one stop (Station Kaena) during the night tonight.
The scientists here try to take advantage of every window to collect some data, so often one package is ready for deployment when another comes aboard (We hate to lose observing time, right astronomers?). Also, whenever we're traveling around the station (within an imaginary circle), we often deploy nets to catch critters. Right now, we're far from any research station and moving too fast for most science, but those are the right times to get "Maggie" in the water. Maggie the magnetometer gets towed behind the ship and is helping to map the magnetism of the sea floor. Maps like the ones she's contributing to were key to understanding plate tectonics - you may have heard of magnetic stripes on the sea floor convincing scientists that the sea floor is indeed spreading apart from a central ridge.
I have a few comments to respond to. First, was I tagging when the DP (Dynamic Positioning - aha, I remembered the name!) system was broken? I'm not sure. I couldn't feel any difference from the back deck. I'd have to check some ship logs to find out. Second, what does the buoy look like? We're not getting too close to it, so I've only seen it at a distance of perhaps 100 yards, and from my perspective, it looks about the same as it did a year ago. I'm sure when they go to pick it up and replace it (which happens next week), they'll find it foul with fowl poo. I have pictures to show once I'm home - we'll try to zoom in and get a better look.
Tomorrow the cruise ends at about 8am. We're expected to throw our sheets and towels in the laundry room, clean our bathrooms (four people in two adjacent cabins share a toilet and shower), eat an early breakfast, and be on our way. I'll be flying home in the afternoon, so we'll see how my day will go. I won't be surprised if I'm asked to help unload gear; I am trying to be helpful here. I'll also try to finagle a ride to the airport.
Aloha,
Patricia
I got to tour the engine room today. I was noisy, clean, spacious and interesting. (I expected a dark, cramped, and perhaps greasy place, and it was none of that.) I wore ear protection (my new friends for this trip anyway) and was still astonished at the volume level.
We've finished our work here at Station ALOHA (that's an acronym, I'm not shouting) and we're headed back to port with one stop (Station Kaena) during the night tonight.
The scientists here try to take advantage of every window to collect some data, so often one package is ready for deployment when another comes aboard (We hate to lose observing time, right astronomers?). Also, whenever we're traveling around the station (within an imaginary circle), we often deploy nets to catch critters. Right now, we're far from any research station and moving too fast for most science, but those are the right times to get "Maggie" in the water. Maggie the magnetometer gets towed behind the ship and is helping to map the magnetism of the sea floor. Maps like the ones she's contributing to were key to understanding plate tectonics - you may have heard of magnetic stripes on the sea floor convincing scientists that the sea floor is indeed spreading apart from a central ridge.
I have a few comments to respond to. First, was I tagging when the DP (Dynamic Positioning - aha, I remembered the name!) system was broken? I'm not sure. I couldn't feel any difference from the back deck. I'd have to check some ship logs to find out. Second, what does the buoy look like? We're not getting too close to it, so I've only seen it at a distance of perhaps 100 yards, and from my perspective, it looks about the same as it did a year ago. I'm sure when they go to pick it up and replace it (which happens next week), they'll find it foul with fowl poo. I have pictures to show once I'm home - we'll try to zoom in and get a better look.
Tomorrow the cruise ends at about 8am. We're expected to throw our sheets and towels in the laundry room, clean our bathrooms (four people in two adjacent cabins share a toilet and shower), eat an early breakfast, and be on our way. I'll be flying home in the afternoon, so we'll see how my day will go. I won't be surprised if I'm asked to help unload gear; I am trying to be helpful here. I'll also try to finagle a ride to the airport.
Aloha,
Patricia
shrinking cups and catching fish
While I slept last night, the lab deployed a deep cast (sending instruments way down to 4800 meters, near the sea floor) and included with the package a net bag containing styrofoam cups many of us had decorated. Large drinking cups came up the size of thimbles, and the artwork looks better after the shrinking kind of intensities the color (a la shrinky dinks).
Around breakfast time the morning, we reached the buoy that I helped deploy last year. (Perhaps helped is too strong a word.) We're here to drop some shipboard instruments next to the instruments dangling from the buoy for the sake of comparison and calibration. But as long as we're here, no harm in taking advantage of the fact that life swarms around the buoy. Slime and barnacles and worms grow on the instruments, little fish come to eat those, and then big fish come to eat the little ones. The ship did two passes by the buoy. On the first pass, 3 mahimahi were caught, and on the second pass, a third came aboard. I'm not sure what will happen to the fish. I think it's generally eaten during the cruise (poke or fillets for dinner?) but perhaps the fishermen will take these home since it is so close to the end of the trip. I'll keep you posted.
Aloha,
Patricia
Around breakfast time the morning, we reached the buoy that I helped deploy last year. (Perhaps helped is too strong a word.) We're here to drop some shipboard instruments next to the instruments dangling from the buoy for the sake of comparison and calibration. But as long as we're here, no harm in taking advantage of the fact that life swarms around the buoy. Slime and barnacles and worms grow on the instruments, little fish come to eat those, and then big fish come to eat the little ones. The ship did two passes by the buoy. On the first pass, 3 mahimahi were caught, and on the second pass, a third came aboard. I'm not sure what will happen to the fish. I think it's generally eaten during the cruise (poke or fillets for dinner?) but perhaps the fishermen will take these home since it is so close to the end of the trip. I'll keep you posted.
Aloha,
Patricia
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Happy Independence Day
I'm typing this on the evening of July 4, although I suppose the heading will identify it as July 5.
I got to see some interesting science today. One package that was deployed overboard was a suite of optical instruments. It has some tools that shine light through a length of water, and then see what wavelengths pass through and which ones are absorbed or scattered. Other tools simply collect whatever light is bouncing around there (which isn't much except very near the surface.) It's like astronomy underwater, collecting color spectra.
I've also gotten to observe a very high tech titration. If you did these in chemistry class (or if you do them at work?), you might recall dripping one fluid into a sample until the sample changes color. Then you look at how much you've added, and conclude something about the composition and concentration of the sample. The set-up here is testing for dissolved oxygen, and it's fancy schmancy. Instead of controlling what's added by hand, a machine carefully adds tiny amounts. And instead of looking for a color change with your eyes, the machine also checks for a change in electric potential in the fluid, and stops the titration accordingly. The machine's operator estimates it's cost at 5K, including hardware and software.
The other big news was that the ships automatic position adjusting system failed. (That's not it's name, it has a better sounding name.) Anyway, when we are doing science, we usually want the ship to stay still (unless we're doing some type of net tow or something), but you can't drop an anchor in 5 km of water. (Even if you could, the ship would drift somewhat on the leash.) So, instead, this ship has a kind of autopilot that constantly adjusts the thrusters and engines and rudders to keep it in place. In calm seas, this system can keep the ship within 0.5 meters of a given location. Amazing, no? But today we'd just started deploying a suite of instruments when that system failed. The instruments had to come back up. For some time, the bridge adjusted our position manually, but later in the day the automatic system was fixed.
I got to help "tag" today, which means I was on the end of a rope steadying a package as it got deployed or came aboard. First I did a recovery, which involved snagging a loop on the package with a hook at the end of a long pole. I had difficulty reaching out for enough, and ultimately the technician on charge did the hard part for me. I give myself a D for that - I only passed because after it was hooked, I grabbed the right line and pulled in the right direction. Then I did a deployment, which involved feeding out line and was rather simple. I gave myself an A but it was an easy A. Then I did one last recovery. I was assertive and accurate and snagged that loop as if I'd known what I was doing. In my elation, though, I forgot what to do next and needed a reminder from the same technician guy (we'll call him Vic, since that's his name). So I call that a B.
We celebrated the 4th of July with BBQed steak eaten on the 02 deck (unusual to eat outside on here), and then sparklers once it got dark. The captain said "I'll be the dad" and helped us light them and insured that they got placed in a water bucket after use. Rather comical to see grown-ups so thrilled at sparklers, but it was a good time.
Bye for now,
Patricia
I got to see some interesting science today. One package that was deployed overboard was a suite of optical instruments. It has some tools that shine light through a length of water, and then see what wavelengths pass through and which ones are absorbed or scattered. Other tools simply collect whatever light is bouncing around there (which isn't much except very near the surface.) It's like astronomy underwater, collecting color spectra.
I've also gotten to observe a very high tech titration. If you did these in chemistry class (or if you do them at work?), you might recall dripping one fluid into a sample until the sample changes color. Then you look at how much you've added, and conclude something about the composition and concentration of the sample. The set-up here is testing for dissolved oxygen, and it's fancy schmancy. Instead of controlling what's added by hand, a machine carefully adds tiny amounts. And instead of looking for a color change with your eyes, the machine also checks for a change in electric potential in the fluid, and stops the titration accordingly. The machine's operator estimates it's cost at 5K, including hardware and software.
The other big news was that the ships automatic position adjusting system failed. (That's not it's name, it has a better sounding name.) Anyway, when we are doing science, we usually want the ship to stay still (unless we're doing some type of net tow or something), but you can't drop an anchor in 5 km of water. (Even if you could, the ship would drift somewhat on the leash.) So, instead, this ship has a kind of autopilot that constantly adjusts the thrusters and engines and rudders to keep it in place. In calm seas, this system can keep the ship within 0.5 meters of a given location. Amazing, no? But today we'd just started deploying a suite of instruments when that system failed. The instruments had to come back up. For some time, the bridge adjusted our position manually, but later in the day the automatic system was fixed.
I got to help "tag" today, which means I was on the end of a rope steadying a package as it got deployed or came aboard. First I did a recovery, which involved snagging a loop on the package with a hook at the end of a long pole. I had difficulty reaching out for enough, and ultimately the technician on charge did the hard part for me. I give myself a D for that - I only passed because after it was hooked, I grabbed the right line and pulled in the right direction. Then I did a deployment, which involved feeding out line and was rather simple. I gave myself an A but it was an easy A. Then I did one last recovery. I was assertive and accurate and snagged that loop as if I'd known what I was doing. In my elation, though, I forgot what to do next and needed a reminder from the same technician guy (we'll call him Vic, since that's his name). So I call that a B.
We celebrated the 4th of July with BBQed steak eaten on the 02 deck (unusual to eat outside on here), and then sparklers once it got dark. The captain said "I'll be the dad" and helped us light them and insured that they got placed in a water bucket after use. Rather comical to see grown-ups so thrilled at sparklers, but it was a good time.
Bye for now,
Patricia
Friday, July 3, 2009
Incubating in the freezing cold depths
The most interesting thing I learned today is on way that researchers learn about little life forms taking up carbon. All living things need some carbon to build their little bodies and shells, and the ones in the ocean get it from the carbon dissolved in the water around them. Some scientists are curious how fast they take up the carbon, or more specifically, how fast they'd take it up if there was plenty around. But of course the little guys can't be observed up here - bringing them up to such a bright and pressure-less world would certainly alter their behavior. So here's my understanding of what the scientists do:
They collect some water at depth, bring it to the surface and inject it with a special isotope of carbon (Carbon-14, actually, although here is isn't being used for its more famous purpose of dating things), and then lower it back down to its home depth. The tiny organisms can't tell Carbon-14 from any other carbon*, so they take some of it up into their little bodies. When the samples are brought back up (after 12 or 24 hours), some careful filtering, coupled with the fact that C-14 is radioactive, allows the scientists to figure out how much of the added C-14 is still floating free, and how much has been taken up by the little bugs.
*This is a little bit of a lie - the organisms treat different types of carbon slightly differently, but the scientists think they have a handle on that and can correct for it.
I also watched John (a CFC expert from UW) handle the glass syringes he uses to sample water. Imagine a large-scale syringe (perhaps to give a horse an injection?) where both parts are glass. It's very carefully made to ensure that seal, as you can imagine. I am not eager to touch one - I can't handle wine glasses in my stable kitchen - those delicate things on a bobbing ship seem like an accident waiting to happen. Luckily, John's fingers are not as buttery as mine.
Fridays are pizza dinners and they had a wide variety in the mess. Tomorrow, though, is a special July 4 celebration with a BBQ picnic in the open air. Silly, but everyone's really looking forward to it.
Aloha,
Patricia
They collect some water at depth, bring it to the surface and inject it with a special isotope of carbon (Carbon-14, actually, although here is isn't being used for its more famous purpose of dating things), and then lower it back down to its home depth. The tiny organisms can't tell Carbon-14 from any other carbon*, so they take some of it up into their little bodies. When the samples are brought back up (after 12 or 24 hours), some careful filtering, coupled with the fact that C-14 is radioactive, allows the scientists to figure out how much of the added C-14 is still floating free, and how much has been taken up by the little bugs.
*This is a little bit of a lie - the organisms treat different types of carbon slightly differently, but the scientists think they have a handle on that and can correct for it.
I also watched John (a CFC expert from UW) handle the glass syringes he uses to sample water. Imagine a large-scale syringe (perhaps to give a horse an injection?) where both parts are glass. It's very carefully made to ensure that seal, as you can imagine. I am not eager to touch one - I can't handle wine glasses in my stable kitchen - those delicate things on a bobbing ship seem like an accident waiting to happen. Luckily, John's fingers are not as buttery as mine.
Fridays are pizza dinners and they had a wide variety in the mess. Tomorrow, though, is a special July 4 celebration with a BBQ picnic in the open air. Silly, but everyone's really looking forward to it.
Aloha,
Patricia
Working, Eating, Sleeping and Feeling Sick
Aren't those the 4 basics of life?
As for work, this cruise has 12 hour watches (compared to the 8 hour watches from my last cruise). While this is very doable (remember, I spend no time cooking, cleaning, commuting), it is curtailing my ability to power through the ambitious stack of books I brought on board. Initially, I was told I'd be on the 3pm to 3am watch (either 3-to-3 watch is equally rough, as 3am is usually squarely within my sleeping time), but do to some staffing changes I was granted a reprieve and given an odd watch - 9am to 9pm - much more civilized. On watch, I help with CTD casts (lowering a suite of instruments overboard, helping get them back on board, and then moving some water that was collected from the large bottles in to little sampling bottles), take care of meteorological observations, and sample some water that's piped into the ship.
The food is good, and I always find it fascinating to be fed well and not have to do any cooking or dishes. Last night there was a huge chocolate cheese cake, and while I was saying I wanted a small piece, the huge slices were pre-cut so I downed about a half a radian of cake (well, I'd hate to see it go to waste!)
While I also spent the previous night on board, last night's sleep was my first that happened when science was being done, and I discovered that I need earplugs. The large winch that raises and lowers gear is just outside my window, and there seem to be many associated sounds: a high pitched whirring, a low rumble, and some unpredictable banging - all three startlingly loud. (That banging - is something broken?) You may know I'm a very good sleeper, but even I'll be needing earplugs tonight.
On my last trip, I didn't experience any motion sickness, but yesterday I did. It's an unsettling feeling, and the worst of it is probably the fear that it will get worse. But I used some medication, which took perhaps 2 or 3 hours to set in, and I've felt fine since. Wish me luck!
More Later,
Patricia
As for work, this cruise has 12 hour watches (compared to the 8 hour watches from my last cruise). While this is very doable (remember, I spend no time cooking, cleaning, commuting), it is curtailing my ability to power through the ambitious stack of books I brought on board. Initially, I was told I'd be on the 3pm to 3am watch (either 3-to-3 watch is equally rough, as 3am is usually squarely within my sleeping time), but do to some staffing changes I was granted a reprieve and given an odd watch - 9am to 9pm - much more civilized. On watch, I help with CTD casts (lowering a suite of instruments overboard, helping get them back on board, and then moving some water that was collected from the large bottles in to little sampling bottles), take care of meteorological observations, and sample some water that's piped into the ship.
The food is good, and I always find it fascinating to be fed well and not have to do any cooking or dishes. Last night there was a huge chocolate cheese cake, and while I was saying I wanted a small piece, the huge slices were pre-cut so I downed about a half a radian of cake (well, I'd hate to see it go to waste!)
While I also spent the previous night on board, last night's sleep was my first that happened when science was being done, and I discovered that I need earplugs. The large winch that raises and lowers gear is just outside my window, and there seem to be many associated sounds: a high pitched whirring, a low rumble, and some unpredictable banging - all three startlingly loud. (That banging - is something broken?) You may know I'm a very good sleeper, but even I'll be needing earplugs tonight.
On my last trip, I didn't experience any motion sickness, but yesterday I did. It's an unsettling feeling, and the worst of it is probably the fear that it will get worse. But I used some medication, which took perhaps 2 or 3 hours to set in, and I've felt fine since. Wish me luck!
More Later,
Patricia
Thursday, July 2, 2009
After 13 months on land, I'm back at sea
Aloha. I'm back on the Kilo Moana for another mission. This is a short HOTS (that stands for Hawaii Ocean Time Series) cruise. We left port near Sand Island this morning (July 2) at about 9am, stopped just west of 'O'ahu for one station of data sampling, and now we're headed north towards the station where the bulk of the science will take place.
I have a bit of a computer situation, and to make a long story short, I'll be blogging short messages without (for the time being) pictures. I'll see if this can be remedied any time soon.
The point of the cruise is to see what's changing in the ocean over time. Dissolved carbon dioxide (and the acidity associated with it) seems to be rising just as atmospheric carbon dioxide is rising, and this project is largely motivated by studying the details of that. But as long as we're headed out (and HOTS cruises go out about monthly), there's plenty more science to be done, and plenty more scientists jumping at the chance to join and study their particular interests. On this cruise, we seem to have several biological types, one group interested in the chlorophyll in the water (which means the photosynthsizers in the water), and another interested in the DNA in the water (which means all the life in the water, I guess.)
There's also a group from UW studying CFC's (remember those from the ozone-days?) as a tracer. Because CFC's entered the water at the surface all over the world (back when we didn't know better), the water that was then at the surface is now marked with a CFC signature - a signature which isn't likely to be erased because CFC's are so unreactive. (They're also harmless to marine life, as far as we know.) So measuring CFC's in water can help researchers learn something about circulation and mixing.
We're an interesting mix - from the ship's employees, to scientists, to us lowly volunteers. We have a 13-year-old intern joining us, as well as an interesting volunteer whom I'll call Steve. Steve is "like me" - he has a family and a career, and he's out here to do something different and learn something. But in real life he's an entrepreneur, and among other things, he has a website that apparently everybody checks and gets a bazillion hits - it's called engrish.com and you should check it out.
If you want to know more details about the ship (like where we are in real time), you can check the ship's website http://iminia.soest.hawaii.edu/UMC/amarcen.htm Let me know if that doesn't work.
I'll do my best to keep up with this as often as I can - hopefully with frequent but short updates.
Patricia
I have a bit of a computer situation, and to make a long story short, I'll be blogging short messages without (for the time being) pictures. I'll see if this can be remedied any time soon.
The point of the cruise is to see what's changing in the ocean over time. Dissolved carbon dioxide (and the acidity associated with it) seems to be rising just as atmospheric carbon dioxide is rising, and this project is largely motivated by studying the details of that. But as long as we're headed out (and HOTS cruises go out about monthly), there's plenty more science to be done, and plenty more scientists jumping at the chance to join and study their particular interests. On this cruise, we seem to have several biological types, one group interested in the chlorophyll in the water (which means the photosynthsizers in the water), and another interested in the DNA in the water (which means all the life in the water, I guess.)
There's also a group from UW studying CFC's (remember those from the ozone-days?) as a tracer. Because CFC's entered the water at the surface all over the world (back when we didn't know better), the water that was then at the surface is now marked with a CFC signature - a signature which isn't likely to be erased because CFC's are so unreactive. (They're also harmless to marine life, as far as we know.) So measuring CFC's in water can help researchers learn something about circulation and mixing.
We're an interesting mix - from the ship's employees, to scientists, to us lowly volunteers. We have a 13-year-old intern joining us, as well as an interesting volunteer whom I'll call Steve. Steve is "like me" - he has a family and a career, and he's out here to do something different and learn something. But in real life he's an entrepreneur, and among other things, he has a website that apparently everybody checks and gets a bazillion hits - it's called engrish.com and you should check it out.
If you want to know more details about the ship (like where we are in real time), you can check the ship's website http://iminia.soest.hawaii.edu/UMC/amarcen.htm Let me know if that doesn't work.
I'll do my best to keep up with this as often as I can - hopefully with frequent but short updates.
Patricia
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