Making for Land…

We are leaving Station Papa and returning to Ketchikan, AK to drop off some science personnel and our film cameraman, Rob. Peggy will be headed to her grandson’s graduation, and is rubbing our noses in her early departure (thanks, Peg!). Dr. Charlie Trick is headed back to London, Ontario, to attend the opening of a new research facility there and rub elbows with Al Gore. Charlie managed to wrangle Al into crossing the northern border for a good cause, so it’s fitting that he witnesses the results of his wrangling.

Unfortunately we have hit some rough seas. Heavy weather means no venturing out on deck unless sampling, and then only with a buddy. I woke up Monday and found the refrigerator next to my workstation had wiggled 8 inches into the lab walkway. We have managed to shove it back 3 inches or so, but my work area is still a foot traffic bottleneck.

I had a domestic fit and baked some scones for the whole crew after hours Monday evening. The urge was both a selfish craving and a parting gift for Peggy. Dan allowed me access to his kitchen, and the chocolate scones didn’t last the night. Success! Mmmm, warm scones… This is the first time I have felt seasick while baking, and the first time attempting a quadruple batch of anything.


Rumor has it we may have 24 hours of shore leave in Ketchikan, so stay tuned...

Ocean Station PAPA; N 50, W 145

We have spent the last few days collecting water at Station PAPA, which sits on an offshore transect line used for oceanographic research for decades.

This station is located in a part of the northern Pacific ocean that has abnormally low levels of plankton growth. While nitrogen and phosphorus are high enough to support greater numbers of plankton, there is very little iron in these waters for large parts of the year. This is thought to be the major reason for the lack of plankton growth.

Many researchers on board are interested in studying the idea of “iron limitation” of plankton in these high nutrient, low carbon (HNLC) areas, and the ways that plankton might have adapted to deal with low levels of iron.

While the area is of great scientific interest, there really isn’t too much to see out here. There is a pod of Dall’s propoises that appears once a day or so – no pics, sorry, those buggers are fast. The best I can get is a splash in the frame that looks very much like the other waves.

The sea is pretty flat and blue and not that exciting, which is a good thing, as the weather here can turn nasty very quickly. I am greatful that we have seen the sun at least twice in the four days we have been here. Some of the first – time cruisers are longing for a storm at sea, but I’ll pass.

Flare training

Shipboard safety training for science crew covers subjects that fall into “hope-you-never-need” categories. The Basics include procedures for abandoning ship, fire alarms (2 “incidents” already this trip), and mustering when boarded by pirates (no “incidents” yet). Helpful hints include do not shower with your cabin-bathroom door open, or the steam will activate the fire alarm in your room (idea of fire team breaking down door while I am still in a towel = scary). The 2 fire alarm incidents so far were fortunately related to faulty sensors. My record per cruise for false fire alarms is 3, so we’ll see if we catch up.

The other day Mark, our C.S. (chief scientist), proved that occasionally safety training, in this case flare training, is pretty exciting stuff. Flare training involves explaining a bit of not-so-common sense:
-do not light your flare unless you can see a rescue vehicle, a handheld flare can only be seen for a radius of 10 miles or so
- keep flares dry
- do not fire your signal flare at the rescue helicopter

Flare use is normally demonstrated with unlit dummy flares. The Thompson had some older flares that by regulation must be disposed of, so for this round of training any crew that had never used handheld or signal flares were invited to fire them off. Check out Mark holding a handheld flare with gloves and safety goggles. However, his next attempt at firing off a signal flare was far more entertaining. Instead of heading up and away from the vessel, part of the flare ricocheted off the A-frame on the back of the vessel, landed near the hot tub and flopped around on deck. The smoke and confusion are pretty funny on the video taken by a science tech, which I may be able to post later.

I do forgive Mark for attempting to destroy our hot tub. However, while he can be our C.S., perhaps he is not the person to be team leader in a life raft situation…

Not dead yet at Station PAPA

Near Cape St. James (N 51 14.95; W 128 59.99): Rite of Passage

Many an oceanography student earns their chops and their sea legs manning the CTD for daily casts. The job can get pretty hairy in rough weather; hard hats and life vests are mandatory.

The Thompson’s CTD array provides continuous data it is raised and lowered through the water, covering several important physical and optical traits for seawater, including temperature, depth, salinity, and the level of photosynthetically active radiation, or PAR. PAR is important because it shows you how deep plankton can live before running out of the kind of light that they need for active growth and food production (for a plant, that’s photosynthesis).

The rosette of the CTD carries bottles which can be tripped electronically to gather water from a particular depth. Water sensors are attached to the frame underneath the bottles. For this trip we run about 2-3 casts per day during daylight hours only, although for some of the more intensive survey trips, I have seen them cranking through CTD stations every hour or two on a 24 hour cycle. The job is to nudge the instrument package away from the railings while the crane lifts it on and off the ship. Fun times, especially if the waves start picking up…

This is the primary means for me to collect seawater for experiments, so yea CTD team!

Port Call, N55.34 W131.65

Broke off operations and headed up the Hecate Straits to Ketchikan, Alaska. Mission: Drop off an engineer, pick up a cameraman.

The ride into Ketchikan is lovely, there were whales frolicking at a distance on both the inbound and outbound trips, although too far for a recognizable photo. Modern humpbacks tend to avoid large ships, go figure. Ketchikan seems to be a stop on the Alaska cruise ship route, as there were 3 in port the morning we arrived.

We stopped close enough to the dock to send out a small boat for the shore exchange. This put us right along the landing strip for the local seaplanes, so we spent a fair part of the morning watching the takeoffs and landings (the pic is by request for you, Joe). If I had the time, I would drop the $$ for some flighted tourism, the Alpine lake regions nearby are supposed to be lovely. There's a rumor that we might get some shore leave the next time we stop in Ketchikan...

The addition of the cameraman to the writer/photographer that boarded in Seattle gives us a UMaine Media matched set. Media people, like dolphins and espresso machines, are pretty commonly seen on research trips these days. Ron will be taking high definition video of science at sea for the purpose of cobbling together a recruitment video for the university. Dane is providing photography and is also working on a mysterious independent film as a side project. I will be highly entertained to see their G-rated, Camp Fun version of research cruising when it comes to DVD.

I hope the cameraman has a makeup artist somewhere in his bag, b/c grooming in general can get pretty scary on a research trip. Shaving and bathing became optional and the use of expletives compulsory once we left sight of land. You cannot point a camera at Eric without him flipping a bird or two. We’ll see if they can make it must see TV.

Creature Comforts

A few minor luxuries are essential when packing for research cruises. While living for 4 weeks in isolated, Spartan conditions, rewarding yourself at the end of a 16-hr day helps offset burnout. Say, a silk sleeping bag liner to jazz up your bunk's 100-thread count polyester sheets printed with the logo of a Washington HMO. Luxury items are also good for sharing.

There is a Trader Joes within walking distance of the UW dock - at least for the determined. B/c sometimes the galley food just doesn’t cut it, my list covers basic staples - chocolate products, chocolate products, mixed nuts, soap, chocolate products...I plan to talk my way into the kitchen one night and bake up some chocolate chunk scones – will let you know if that happens.

However, I don’t feel that my chocolate proclivities even come close to those of the caffeine-addicts. Take a look at their toys! The espresso machine was purchased the day before we left, when it became obvious that nobody had brought one...

Science at sea

Minor nuisances:

1) Sleep disturbances
-continuous ping of the sonar
-grinding of the crane while deploying the underwater instrument packages

2) Discovering your station isn’t tied down as well as you thought. Flying water bottles can maim.

3) Showers that drain v. v. v. slowly

4) Norwalk virus – not just for Princess Cruise Lines anymore!*

5) The wheeled chair leashed to the lab workbench. Its bungee cord has plenty of give, so it can roll 6 feet in any direction.

6) Minor surgery. Fortunately I only had to replace a bulb…

* This blog infrequently produced solely, entirely, TOTALLY for entertainment and occasional lampooning.

D0: Puget Sound, Straits of Juan de Fuca

Got up early enough to run before leaving the dock this morning. This took high priority; my running opportunities this month are limited to a treadmill in the ship’s “fitness center,” which also contains a stationary bike and the mechanics of a large air handler. Ahh, the luxuries of science-at-sea...

It takes about 10-12 hours to reach the open Pacific from the UW dock. It was a gentle scenic ride out past the Chittenden Locks, which connects Puget Sound to Lakes Union and Washington.

One of the first science stations was a series of fine-mesh net tows to collect larger zooplankton (floating animals). Our catch? According to Tatiana, she is holding crab larvae, possibly dungies (Dungeness). They are pretty cute for an edible species, and I say this as a chemist who is not easily swayed by the charms of marine fauna.

I debated the subject of cuteness during grad school with a postdoc at USF. His theory was that “cute” when applied to juvenile animals was a meaningless term, simply a substitute for “small.” My argument is that while cute does often equal small, there are enough exceptions that make the distinction meaningful. Thus, baby cockroaches are simply small compared to the adult versions, not cute. Crab larvae are cute, especially when you watch them swim.

March 11, 1 Day before heading to sea (D -1)

...or, how to build a clean room in <1 day.

To study plankton in the ocean, you have to be clean and careful. These bugs are pretty sensitive, and are not adapted to life in jugs on the back deck of a ship. It’s like trying to grow a plant out of season or in the wrong zone – even if you do everything correctly and give your plants plenty of nutrients and light, they don’t always grow.

In this case, Mark (my former boss) is interested in growing plankton and studying their use of the nutrient iron, which it turns out may be as important to these tiny floating plants as it is to us. The difficulty is, not only are plankton hard to grow, but there really isn’t all that much iron in the ocean to begin with. So again, cleanliness is key- if you want to measure iron, your lab must be iron-free. But the average steel research vessel just doesn't clean up well enough to measure iron. So what is your average iron-and-plankton obsessed oceanographer to do?

First, find a bunch of undergraduate and graduate students that can be coerced into going to sea for months at a time.

Second, assemble the necessary materials – the keys here are lots of lumber, plastic sheeting, and HEPA air filters (similar to home air filters but much larger).

Finally, release the students! A wooden frame is attached to the ship’s struts and covered with plastic sheeting. All plastic surfaces are then cleaned with water and isopropyl alcohol, and the air filters can be installed to remove particles from the air. Eric here uses a HEPA filter to demonstrate that bench-pressing is a practical skill for grad students at sea.

End Result --- a giant trace metal clean bubble.

May 10, two days before leaving the dock (D-2)

Today is loading day, it’s amazing how many shipping crates are being craned on board. The hard part isn’t the heavy lifting, it’s more about shoehorning five functioning lab groups into limited space. Hope everyone is friendly, sociable, and has had all their shots…







This will be our home for the next 3.5 weeks, the RV Thompson out of the University of Washington, in all her freshly-painted glory. Oh yeah, that would be the big white ship on the left.



I moved beyond the dock into a small waterfront park to get the Thompson in frame. While taking the photo, there came a strangely familiar hissing sound behind me, and I found I was interrupting a group play date…

The hissing came from the sentinel, guess I was too close.

Maiden voyage...

at least for blogging. I hope to chronicle my experiences cruising, research style. Bring on the charismatic megafauna! Depending on how things go, I may expand this into a more general blog.

I will begin this series of posts for my next cruise, which will run from May 9- June 8, when we head out of Seattle into the Northeastern Pacific.

The most exciting close up encounter from a former cruise in 2006 was a sunfish (Mola mola), see attached for a picture of what I mean. Pretty odd-looking as fish go, evidently they float at the surface so birds can pick off their skin parasites. I hope to post photos of larger marine life on this trip...

Regarding subject matter, your mileage may vary. For the record, the film Life Aquatic is both exaggerated & strangely accurate regarding life on a research vessel. Although I have personally never experienced a research vessel with a live-abaord masseuse, but one can always hope...