Daily Journal

June 23, 2010

By David M. Lawrence

Fatigue seems to be catching up with some of us. It certainly is with me. As I write this report, I am struggling to see straight. The words appear on the screen, but mostly as a blurry mess. Fortunately for me, I am a touch typist, and my fingers do a good job of hitting the keys my brain wants them to hit – and in the correct sequence – but I would feel a lot better if my ability to (literally) focus was working better.

While I am a novice to oceanographic expeditions, I have been on enough other expeditions to know that this is normal. The company of adventurers starts out with enthusiasm and an adrenalin rush that convinces the body it is not tired. In the middle of an expedition, after days of hard – and in this case, 24-hour – work, enthusiasm fizzles and adrenalin is in short supply (except for emergencies). At the end, however, the realization that much has been accomplished and that home is near adds a burst of energy that gets the company across the finish line.

No matter how tired I have been today, and how much I struggle to see what I am doing, it has been a good day. A Watch (my current watch after Monday's rotation) had dawn watch, and we witnessed an incredible sunrise during our 0430 hours neuston tow. [Full disclosure: We are still on Bermuda (Atlantic) time despite the fact that we have technically crossed into another time zone.] The light had been building over the horizon for at least an hour. We watched the horizon get brighter and brighter then Pop! The orange orb emerged – seemingly from the watery depths.

We processed the tow before the morning watch relieved us. I managed to do much of the pre-deployment work – tying down the aft guy, attaching the net to the inhaul/outhaul, attaching a retrieval line, and attaching a cod-end (collecting jar) to the end of the net in the dark without any help. No one had to re-tie my bowlines.

We also did a bit of sail-handling before and after the tow and I didn't feel nearly as incompetent as I normally do. Maybe I am learning something.

The dawn watch has dawn cleanup after breakfast. Our task this morning was more challenging than usual. Our coffee pot died during midwatch. Apparently the bottom fell apart. When it broke away, the thermos bottle inside fell through and shattered on the floor. Midwatch was cleaning it up as I awoke at 0230 hours. We still found tiny shards of glass while we extra vigorously swept the main saloon this morning.

Lest anyone on shore panic about a potential loss of coffee onboard the ship, we do carry spares for all critical systems. For that, I am eternally grateful.

After dawn cleanup I mustered just enough energy to flop into my bunk. I went down hard. I made no attempt to set an alarm, but woke up after a couple of hours' sleep anyway. I did feel better, but nowhere near 100 percent.

Just before lunch today C Watch joined the rest of us who have made it aloft in the rigging. They seemed to be happy. Now all of us can climb, or not, and experience the ocean from an entirely new perspective.

Just before class this afternoon we had a fire/abandon ship drill. I'm generally not fond of drills, but it's good to know I have some idea of what I am supposed to do. In case of fire, the person who spots it should shout out the warning. If a way to stop it is handy, he should spend no more than 30 seconds trying to put it out. Failing that, go up on deck to your watch's muster station.

For emergencies, I remain a part of B Watch, so I go amidships and prepare to adjust the sail plan to make it easier to handle the boat while handling the emergency. But when we hear six or more short blasts on the ship's horn followed by one long blast, it is time to head for the liferafts. B Watch shares its assigned liferaft with the two engineers, Dave Reynolds and Sarah Lake. Our first task is to don our immersion suits. Then each person assigned to a boat is responsible for certain items – muster (accounting for everyone who should be aboard), raft launch, emergency food, emergency water, medical supplies, flares, EPIRB (Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon), and heaving line.

The latter is my job. A coil of rope may not seem all that important, but a heaving line, with a ball of a knot called a monkey's fist at one end, makes it easier to tie the rescue raft up to a rescuing ship. All of the jobs are important, but the muster job – held by Marina Cassio – is the most important.

After drill we held class as usual. The Cramer has reached its easternmost point, 27°36'N x 40°36'W. Today we begin our return trip to the west, zigzagging in an effort to cover as much of the Sargasso Sea as possible on the way back to Bermuda.

For class today, chief engineer Dave Reynolds talked about the factors that led to the loss of the RMS Titanic on the night of April 14th and 15th, 1912. Dave talked about institutional and technical factors that cooperated to bring the ship down. His quick wit, machine-gun delivery, and irreverent sense of humor made the talk entertaining as well as very, very informative. His ultimate conclusion is that, as we see with other newsworthy events today, corporate culture is important in determining whether an accident remains a mere accident or instead becomes a disaster.

Right now A Watch is on duty for the evening watch. Prior to our coming on deck, C Watch did a Tucker trawl and deployed a carousel, and our first task was to adjust our sails for traveling rather than sampling. It is now time for me to move on to select the photos for the day. As I move on, we head toward a potential rendezvous with a squall. To find out more, you'll have to tune in tomorrow...

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To read a recent Science magazine article about marine debris in the oceans (June 18 issue, "The Dirt on Ocean Garbage Patches"), please visit the Previous SEA Research page.