Although it’s a little late, here is the last entry I wrote before leaving the ship...
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Some special moments at sea:
One morning around 7 AM I was drinking coffee alone on the bow just after sunrise, then I looked up to see a huge whale no more than 20 yards in front of me break through the surface, completely turn over, blow air and water up into the sky, and then sink slowly back down. I just immediately started smiling and laughing because I knew I was the only one who saw it!
We’ve been lucky enough a couple times to see almost a hundred pilot whales and dolphins feeding and swimming up to the surface. They are very graceful. Someone will spot them and alert everyone to stop what they are doing and stare out toward the protruding dorsal fins in the distance. The whale I saw by myself was much closer than these herds. I don’t know what you call a group of dolphins or whales... it might not be herd.
We don’t know exactly where the egrets came from, but they haven’t really enjoyed life on the Revelle so far. They flew here, transferred from another ship thinking we were fishing and that they could live off of fish guts, or stowed away on our vessel from Thailand. Since all we have to feed them is a couple cans of sardines, the stowaway egrets are looking quite wayward, wobbly, and hungry. One of them pecked at my toe in desperation. They are too exhausted and malnourished to fly, so when you walk too close to them or try to scare them they just hobble away pathetically. I saw one flying and trying to land on the bow chain, which is a long horizontal pole that has instruments hanging off the starboard side of into the water. It didn’t quite make the landing though and settled for hanging up side down with one foot attached the pole, then almost fell into the water before swooping itself back up for another try. We found a tiny hawk, but he didn’t last very long. The wildlife is dwindling, they cause a mess, but they are at least a source of slight entertainment and conversation.
We’ve run out of fresh vegetables and fruit, so the menu is getting more creative and full of canned goodies, for better or worse.
I got to set off some expired smoke flares one morning. Lots of bright orange smoke!
It’s a ship, NOT a boat.
Sunny and watery reflections:
-When the whole ocean turns pink, then gold at sunset... as opposed to the BRIGHT sun and BRIGHT blue water during the day. There is daily yoga on the bow at 1 pm now that the weather has died down. I simply cannot describe what it feels like to do yoga in the fresh breeze with an unobstructed ocean view! We have to use weights to keep our mats from flying away.
-The way people’s faces look warmer in the sunset
-Water rushing around the bow and spewing upwards once we started moving. It looked like huge snowflakes (you can tell my mind is somewhat still in Colorado)
It cost $40,000 to cut off the main mast of the ship for our radar, then another $50,000 to install its platform. That’s before the radar even made it on the ship! Because of interference between the normal internet system on board and our radar, we all have to use a really expensive form of internet. This costs almost $70,000 a month! We are trying to keep our usage down.
We refueled the ship on our way back toward civilization. The refueling ship pulled up along side us, threw a couple bumper-like devices between our ships to keep us from hitting each other, and then connected a line for transferring fuel. We also gave them a couple liters of grape juice. They passed back a nice 2012 Malaysian calendar. Amazingly, it only took about 6 hours to transfer 92,000 gallons of diesel onboard. Which was convenient because the Chief Engineer was in charge of grilling lamb that night for dinner, so thankfully he had time to take care of both important operations that day.
The last night before we made it to land was the lunar eclipse. We were ahead of schedule and couldn’t go any closer to land without an escort, so we just chilled in one spot outside a certain zone to watch the eclipse without light pollution. Can you say Goodnight Moon? We laid outside on the bow for the show with a completely unobstructed view. Someone brought out a guitar. It was a perfect way to end the cruise.
From Pollywog to Shellback in 35 days
There is an ancient tradition that goes along with sailing across the equator, which we did at least 6 times. It’s not so much of a tradition though, more of an initiation. You are a slimy, unworthy, foul Pollywog until you have been “indoctrinated into the solemn mysteries of the briny deep.” I was one of 16 lowly ‘Wogs on board the Revelle until the official ceremony near the end of this cruise, and now I know the true meaning behind our rituals. Our loyalty to King Neptune was brutally tested. Our individual transgressions against Him and the act of sailing into his domain unannounced were brought to trial amongst His Majesty and His Honorable Shellbacks. My Wog name was “Innocently Longwinded Wog”... for obvious reasons. Although my name suggests that I would readily spill the beans about what it’s really like to transform from Pollywog to Shellback, you will just have to find out the details for yourself when you cross the equator! I’ve probably already said too much. Suffice it to say, although I thought I had been living a full life up until this cruise, I am now a born-again Shellback with an officially stamped membership card and a really nice certificate I plan on framing in my office at CSU. It is apparently the PG version of the certificate though because they used to feature naked mermaids, where as now there are covered up by barnacles.
Science and Fish Briefing:
The science part of this cruise was incredible. The thing that we came out here to study happened! It was quite strong, fast, and we saw the beginning, middle, and end of it in full resolution. Up-front-and-personal actually. Including some tropical cyclone interaction, which was very unique. The scientists couldn’t ask for more. Morale is high. Our brains are all a little fuzzy after being in science mode and working all day everyday for 35 days. Actually, half the science team was here for the previous cruise too so they are going on 2 months of Revellian life now. Some people are really ready to be home. The world has been getting smaller and smaller everyday.
The LAST microprofiler and LAST Chameleon were dropped into the ocean a couple afternoons before we “left station” and we started to do equatorial transects for additional studies of ocean current structure. The instruments that normally hang off the boat obviously had to be taken out before we started moving. All the scientists came out to see this finale. Some of the night shift-ers look very pale, not having seen the sun in 3 weeks. Kind of like vampires, they looked out of place. We are scaling down to 4 balloon launches a day instead of 8, which makes the balloon people very happy. I pulled the last microprofiler out of the water, which made me very sore and gave me blisters, but was a lot of fun.
Everyone was waiting with biated breath and fishing poles for the Chief Scientist’s “Okay”. Fishing isn’t allowed while the ocean probes are in the water because the blood will attract bigger fish and they tend to mess up the ocean instruments. So once the science was out of the way it was time to finally take advantage of the wildlife that normally congregate around the ship! I caught a tuna on my very first cast. Even though I’ve been keeping up with our P90X morning workouts, I wasn’t strong enough to reel it in by myself. We tried to hook it on a pole to bring it on board, but it snapped off the hook in the tension. At least I can still say my fishing career is a success so far, even though we didn’t get to eat the feisty little bugger.
The adventure of the netted fishing raft:
In what seemed like 30 seconds flat, the Third Mate and one of the A/B’s (able-bodied seamen) were helmeted, life-jacketed, and dropped into the water in the rescue raft for what ended up being quite an aquatic journey. The captain had discovered an unidentified object not too far behind our boat. We were still stationary, it was plenty sunny just before 9 AM, and the waves were completely calm. So he planned a reconnaissance mission. Everyone was extremely jealous of Matt and Jude because they actually got to be in the water and off the ship. They came back to the Revelle slowly (using up as much time as possible), towing a netted fishing raft. The plan was to check it out and then perhaps pull it on board. It’s a seafaring duty to clear the water for other ships. You don’t want trash lying around; we’ve all got to keep this place tidy. The rescue crew brought the raft closer alongside the ship for further inspection. Everyone who was awake was leaning over the railing for a closer look. The 8 ft x 8 ft raft was made of bamboo, netted, and kept afloat by many embedded empty plastic jugs. The net extended out in opposite directions from the raft by at least 25 yards on either side and also carried with it a solar powered tracking device. The idea is that floating objects attract organic matter, which attract fish. Then the people who laid this device in the water can find it again and go fishing by it. Since it was so heavy and the net was so long, they dropped the rope they had tied to it, and let it go free, thinking we didn’t want to keep it or bring it on board after all. In about 10 seconds everyone’s faces sort of dropped and we all ran to the starboard side of the stern. It was going to drift right toward one of the propellers. As one of the A/B’s eyes’ told me, this was a bad thing. The Chief Engineer cursed, grabbed a radio, and leaned ominously over the stern.
One end of the net definitely got caught in the propeller underneath the ship, so now the raft was trailing behind the ship as we floated in the current. The prop was off since we were stationary, but it rotates even when it’s not on because the current pushes it. So the net got wrapped around it in every which way. We know this because the Res Tech attached his handy-dandy Go Pro camera to a long pole, stuck that underwater, and gave us all a view of the deep blue sea and our poor propeller all tied up. They decided to attach the end of the winch to the raft, with help from the folks still in the rescue boat. The plan was to pull up the raft enough to cut it away from the net, that way at least the raft wouldn’t get sucked into the propeller. The winch wasn’t strong enough! Had to try again with the crane. Raft was eventually loosened and freed – good riddance! What seemed like such a jolly adventure had turned into quite an ordeal. The Chameleon ocean probe is supposed to be continuously dropped in and out of the water down to 800 meters or so to make deep sea measurements of ocean temperature, salinity, mixing, density, etc. But data collection was immediately interrupted during this spontaneously scheduled raft experiment because you don’t want a net catching or messing up a $20,000+ 8 foot tooth-brush shaped ocean probe. They turned on the propeller slowly one way, then the other, watching as chunks of net were loosened and discarded into the sea. Some of it still remains on the propeller though, but thankfully isn’t tied in a way that causes tension and ripping. We’ve sent the Go Pro camera down a couple more times to check on our little fashion accessory. I told them it looked like an anklet.
We all think of quick fixes – someone could dive down and undo the net from the prop! Certainly, except for a couple things: The buoyancy of a human compared to the dense sea water means that you will surely bounce up and hit the bottom of the ship real hard if caught by the current or a wave. The propellers are actually moving in the current too, which you don’t want to be near. There is absolutely no water contact, swimming, or diving allowed under SCRIPPS policy since one of the Res Techs cut her hand up trying to undo something underneath the ship a couple years ago. However, about 15 years ago you could Tarzan swing off the third level into the water on a long rope attached to the A-frame. The good old days! Long story short and many options considered, the net hopefully wished itself away while we transited back to Thailand, or it will eventually be taken off by someone following SCRIPPS protocol. Trust me though; everyone volunteered to jump in the water because it’s been very hot and sunny lately.
Many of you have asked about Thanksgiving...
It was wonderful! And very cyclonic. By that, I mean we were in the midst of a very stormy day... it had been raining for almost 12 hours when we finally sat down for the feast. The waves had been ramping up hour by hour. Between 2 and 3 pm, the winds increased steadily from 10 knots to 40 knots and remained that high for almost 24 hours. There were rumors of a brewing tropical cyclone to our north, although the storms that had initiated in our domain were due to the legendary MJO we are studying. Sure enough, we were in the right place at the right time for the birth of Tropical Cyclone 05A. Ominous sounding, huh? I kept excitedly telling Owen we had been “initiated,” as in we were there for the TC initiation, which is very rare for humans. This meant rain rain rain and almost 15-foot waves hurling our ship up and down. You couldn’t walk straight down the hallway inside the ship anymore.
Owen and I walked onto the stern that night, the bow was off limits because the boat was moving up and down too much for humans to safely walk around. It was more disorienting than usual to be outside on the lower deck that night because you could see the white breaking of the waves passing by on the side, the ocean getting very far away from you when the ship went up onto a wave crest, and then the water crashing into the ship right near the railing when you plummeted back down. Plus it looked and felt like we were moving even though we were actually trying to stay still because we were being steered into the current and into the winds. We couldn’t see anything farther than about 15 feet from the ship because it was dark, no indication of what was out there or what was throwing us around except for the oscillation between freefalling and then the tripling force of gravity. We tried to play the elevator game where you jump up as the elevator stops at your floor. I was a little worried about slipping on the wet deck, but we successfully managed to get seriously airborne a couple times.
The deck officers were trying to keep the ship in our designated stationary secret spot according to our DYNAMO science plan, but also maneuvering to meet the waves head on because you don’t want to get sloshed around in the wave troughs. The sea was too rough for the usual auto-pilot navigation which keeps us at our station courtesy of the bow thrusters. So they were actually driving the ship just to keep us in the same location, fighting the waves. Since they were in “manual” now, their job was much more difficult but apparently not nearly as bad as one of the Cruises they did chasing typhoons near Taiwan. We moved over 120 meters within 1 hour, swerving around. As the weather radar scientists on board, Owen and I would call and warn the bridge when a strong squall line was headed our way so they could be ready to meet some strong winds from another direction, strong as in gusts above 40 kts! The next morning I had to go up onto the third level of the ship to check out something in the radar engineer’s trailer where we keep the main control system, transmitter, receiver, and other big electronic gizmos. The waves felt much, much stronger in the front of the ship and as you ascended to the upper decks. I was staring out the window of the container like I was sitting in the passenger seat of a car, riding up and down the waves. Being thrown up high and then crashing back down into the water is so much fun! There is a real sense of freefall in every trough. A couple people got a little seasick...
Needless to say, our rain gauge measurements were very unhelpful for this period of time. Sideways rain isn’t very interested in falling into a nice vertical cylinder. The waves didn’t subside completely for about 3 days as the cyclone slowly churned past us to the north and then curved into the Arabian Sea where it was finally “named.” It was too close to the equator when it passed by us to be an official tropical cyclone. The circulation induced by the rotation of the earth hadn’t even kicked in (Coriolis Force) but it was still a strong, large circulation. And it made for a very interesting holiday weekend.
So what else about Thanksgiving? The food was amazing! The cooks worked hard all day and all night, which is normal for them but they were especially busy that day and luckily got help from eager volunteers. I got up at my usual time of 3:45 AM, but not to work out... to help with homemade cinnamon rolls! We also peeled and chopped many pounds of apples the night before for someone’s family apple pie recipe. There were 5 different kinds of pies and cakes... all consumed by the next morning. Plenty of people work the night shift so leftovers don’t really stand a chance on this ship.
It was incredible to share a holiday dinner with 47 other people. It really solidified the fact that we are kind of like one big family out here. Lots of personalities, everyone working together, everyone smiling and rubbing their happy bellies. It was weird not having any holiday ‘spirits’ though. Perhaps more healthy though! I instigated a turkey drawing contest at dinner using some parchment paper that wasn’t good enough for actual baking. The entries were all very festive and humorous. Mad scientist turkey, crazy hungry long talon-ed turkey, ocean turkey, turkey sandwich...
Engine Room Field Trip
This is arguably the most important ‘room’ on the ship along with the bridge where the navigation and steering occur. You can steer from the engine room too if needed though. This loud, hot area of the ship down below the normal decks looks something like a video game. Every time you walk through a door it’s like a new level with something else important and somewhat dangerous going on. The control room looks like a big arcade game from the 70s – lots of joysticks and lit up buttons and monitors. You have to wear earplugs near the heavy machinery and UV light masks where they do metal work. There are two winches that have 13,000 m of cable and 9,000 m of conductive cable respectively to drudge the ocean floor, survey, and do other deep sea research. The conductive cable is neat because it can help you send data up and down between you and your instruments. They laugh that every time the winch dredges the ocean floor someone gets a PhD.
The engine room is also the home of two water purification systems. Gallons and gallons of seawater are super heated, evaporated, and turned into fresh water for use on the ship. It took some getting used to because our water dispenser in the galley is always luke warm from this process and completely distilled. When it comes to us it is VERY clean. The ocean water way out here is pretty pure to begin with and then the machine does its thing. The water has a strange effect on you at first because land lovers are used to water with minerals. It leaves you kind of thirsty even though you are probably well hydrated.
The deck engineers who work in the engine room all answer to the Chief Engineer. Like the deck officers, there is a chain of command: 1st Assistant Engineer (A/E), 2nd A/E, and so forth. Then there are also oilers, wipers, plus others with names I can’t remember...
I figured out the numbering system to our drinking cups one night –
#1 = Captain, followed by...
1st mate (Chief Mate), 2nd mate, 3rd mate (deck officers), able-bodied seamen (A/Bs)
Chief Engineer
1st assistant engineer (A/E), 2nd A/E, etc ... oilers and wipers and other deck crew
1st cook, 2nd cook
Resident Marine Tech (Res Tech, see previous blog post for description)
IT Computer Guru
Chief Scientist
... then all the science party in order of which bunk you are in.
I was #39 because I was in a certain room on the top bunk. #40 was below me. I rode bus 39 in elementary school so I didn’t really like this number until this trip. 39 and I are getting along much better these days. Everyone has a regular cup and a coffee cup, which hang on rods in the galley. You must clean your own cup and keep track of it, but at least that’s the only thing we have to wash besides our laundry, ourselves, our rooms, and our shared bathrooms! Really, ship life is very liberating.
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