Daily Journal

June 30, 2010

By David M. Lawrence

It's been a busy day on deck. A Watch had the morning watch. The watch started slowly, with routine chores such as deck wash, but the pace built throughout the morning and ended in a flurry of activity.

We planned a carousel deployment/surface station at 1000 hours, followed by a neuston tow and several Tucker trawls. The morning's efforts were complicated by squalls in the neighborhood, which demanded readiness and constant vigilance on our part. (As it was, we barely got sprinkled on.)

We began dropping sail to heave-to at 1000. As I was on deck rather than in science, there wasn't much for me to do during the carousel deployment other than take weather photos. (I did.) After that, though, we adjusted the sail to make slow progress – we aim for a speed of 2 knots when towing neuston nets and Tucker trawls. The neuston tow was fairly routine.

The Tucker trawl was another matter. I was at the helm for the first one. The ship was on a port tack. After discussing strategy with captain Chris McGuire, third mate Jeremy Dann asked me to perform a complicated maneuver. First, fall off the wind about 15 or more degrees to pick up a little speed. Then, as the science crew dropped the net in the water, take two turns of the wheel to the left to whip the boat's stern away from the towing line. If the maneuver is smartly executed (a rarity for me), the boat will drift away from the line – therefore not contaminating the sample with stuff from the boat.

I survived the first two just fine. The Tucker apparatus had other issues, however. The net is designed to stay closed until it either reaches a specified depth or until a certain amount of wire attached to the net has been paid out. Then a messenger – essentially a weight attached to the towing line, is thrown toward the net. When it makes contact with the Tucker apparatus, the net should open. The apparatus keeps the net open until the tow is complete, then another messenger is thrown down along the line to make the net close again. The net remained closed during our first attempt. After some quick fixes, however, we managed to get two Tucker trawls done just before watch changeover. In keeping with the general trend of late, there hasn't been a lot of plastic in our neuston tows or Tucker trawls.

Tonight, A Watch will take midwatch. During our overnight watches – and any other period where visibility is restricted – one person is stationed up front for bow watch. Many of the volunteers say that bow watch is their favorite job on the ship. The nightscapes are often spectacular, the boat rocks up and down like a thrill ride in an amusement park, and there's no one else around to get between you and your thoughts. For some, it is like their meditation time – and it's just about the only time where you can get a modicum of privacy on this ship.

I, too, have become a fan of bow watch, but tonight, I won't be taking bow watch or any other job during midwatch. I drew a bye, of sorts. My watchmates go to work while I sleep a couple of extra hours. But beginning at 5 a.m., I will serve all day as junior steward, helping to feed everyone and keep them happy. I'm not totally unprepared – I used to be short-order cook at the late, great Golden Cue, a combination pool hall and burger joint in Norman, Okla. – but I haven't cooked for anyone other than myself or my family in years. I have never cooked meals for several dozen at once. I do have a couple of recipe plans to go with what Lil, our real steward, has thought of, but you will have to wait until tomorrow to find out whether I do a good job or get put off in the dory with soda crackers, water, and a AAA map of Las Vegas.