Teacher on Deck: 1405 or 2:05PM. Latitude: 02 42N; longitude 100 48W.

After five full days in transit, we'll arrive at our research destination in another three or four hours. We've been cruising toward the southwest about 300 miles northwest of the Galapagos Islands at a speed of 11.3 knots. According to Meredith, the third mate whom I visited with on the bridge this morning, we've been going faster than the Ewing's normal cruising speed on this transit. Everyone in the science party is eager to arrive and begin work.

Science Meeting

Our science meeting this morning was our last before deploying our data collecting equipment, and Gail gave an excellent summary of the geologic work she has done on past cruises to Hess Deep when she dived in the submersible Alvin to collect samples and make observations at the site. Mari Smultea, the head mammologist, also gave a presentation about the rationale and goals of the vessel-based marine mammal monitoring program that will now accompany all Lamont-Doherty Earth Observatory acoustic seismic programs. Mari, I've recently learned, is also an accomplished photographer of marine mammals and has done previous photographic work for the Pacific World Foundation.

Slop Chest

1500: The "magic" opening time for the "Slop Chest" aboard ship--or the weekly ship's store. With the captain in charge of credit, almost everyone aboard lined up outside his cabin to buy navy R/V Maurice Ewing souvenir t-shirts or polos (my choice), work shirts, postcards, chocolate, or other personal necessities from shampoo to mouthwash. I noticed that AA and AAA batteries are also on the list, just in case I need some later in the voyage.

Harry Potter at Hess Deep

Gail has finished her complete collection of the 17 audiotapes making up Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and I've asked to listen to them on the transit back to Panama . Right now, we are all looking ahead to the heart of the cruise: the next ten or so days of data collection at the Hess Deep. As a watchstander, my hours on duty become more fixed as of Saturday: 8 to 4 (with short breaks for lunch and snacks). I'll be working closely with Alejandro Escalona, a PhD graduate student from Venezuela, as well as Kirk, Gail, and Steffen, doing work both in the lab and on the deployment areas. That's where old clothes and closed toe shoes become important along with strict safety rules and a high level of alertness.

Mary

Not everything here aboard the Ewing focuses on our research. One of our science party, Steffen Saustrup, seismic data processor, is also a biologist at heart. Several mornings ago, during our transit leg from Panama, he was on deck during a windy, rainy day with Astrid Markowitz, a graduate student watchstander, when he suddenly observed a small bird cowering and shivering at Astrid’s feet. Steffen realized that the bird was either sick or injured, for it looked really forlorn to him and lay perfectly still in the same spot. After observing it throughout the day and noticing that it could barely crawl, Steffen decided to take action and came to its rescue.

First Steffen tried to provide the bird with some crackers for a meal and a towel to warm its temporary home on the Ewing’s deck, but it didn’t seem interested in food. Becoming more concerned after night approached, Steffen moved it into new luxurious quarters in his cabin, a nest made of a cardboard box lid and the towel. He observed that the bird immediately began nodding its head and eventually fell into a deep sleep.

Next morning, Steffen’s new cabin-mate seemed perkier, so he decided it was time to give it some water using a homemade eyedropper improvised from a Bic pen. After getting some canned tuna from the galley, Steffen and Mari S., one of the marine mammal observers on board, gently force fed the bird, which appeared to be a type of petrel. By Thursday morning Peter the Petrel, now named and identified as a Sejneger’s petrel which breeds on islands off the coast of Chile, was still enjoying his new home and getting perkier by the hour. He would sit on Steffen’s shoulder or even his hat, and was seemingly relaxed about his unusual adventure, even to the point of beating his wings a few times.

Steffen’s next concern was when and how to try to successfully release Peter back into its natural habitat of oceanic waters. Late Thursday evening Steffen held the petrel in his hand for the last time, raised his arm into the air, and proudly sent Peter flying back into the Pacific winds.

Things are going pretty well out here, some early snafus with the 6km-long cable, but we've repaired them and we're getting good data now. The weather's mostly overcast but the seas aren't too choppy.

This morning we got a sheet of plywood from the bo'sun and used some OBS stands and made ourselves a ping-pong table. I'm going to organize a tournament in a few days. Matt, one of the engineers is the local ping-pong hotshot. The problem with the ship's players is that they're used to playing on a variety of homemade tables of every size and height, all while pitching and rolling at sea, definite home court advantage. They know how to time a high roll shot so the table will rise up to meet it or lay a soft lob as the table's falling. But we scientists will soon choose our David to go up against Goliath. I'm thinking of getting a Calcutta going if I can remember how to run one.

Several days ago I rescued an injured bird, kept him in my cabin and fed him tuna fish and water until he was healthy enough to fly away, which he did.

Now that we are on a watchstander schedule of eight hour shifts, time aboard the Ewing seems to have changed as most of my daytime hours are spent in the main lab on watch. The chances to actually get on deck in the fresh air are limited by my 8 am - 4 pm hours.

Morning Jog

However, this morning I woke up, dressed in comfortable black sweats, and headed for the A deck to check the weather. I had 15 minutes before breakfast began at 7:30 am, just enough time for a five lap constitutional: past the forward A deck cabins with their closed curtains, past the life rafts on both starboard and port sides, past the science lab containers anchored to the ship’s deck, and past a collection of mysterious shapes covered by bright blue tarps and tightly secured by lines.

It wasn’t a long loop, and far from a regular one, unlike a lap on a field or in a gym, but after I zigzagged around the assorted equipment, I headed for the best part--the bow of the Ewing. I wasn’t really on the true bow, but on the section of A deck just below the captain’s bridge and its large plate glass windows that wrapped around the front of the vessel. Below me I could look down into the bow with its anchors. But why look down when all around me was the vast Pacific Ocean sparkling in the early morning light?

That’s all there was--just the open and empty ocean in a 180 degree arc that coincided with my turn from starboard to port. No birds, no fish, no dolphins or other marine mammals in sight, although two marine mammal observers were already in place with their binoculars high up on the flying bridge above me. If I stood still and turned in a complete circle, all that I could see beyond the Ewing was the ocean, a flat, unbroken horizon, and layer upon layer of clouds in varying shades of white and gray. High above were a few glimpses of blue sky, but the sea surface was relatively flat with only a few touches of white capped waves, although the light breeze felt refreshing on my face as I walked around and around on my irregular oval path.

Back to School

What an amazing way to observe the Pacific Ocean! And as a teacher, I felt I needed a refresher course in some basic ocean statistics before I headed for breakfast in the mess. So I stopped into one of the scientific offices on A deck to look at the collection of reference books available there and found a textbook on oceanography that gave me the following information:

1. The Pacific Ocean is the largest of all four oceans, covering 40% of all ocean surface. It has the equivalent area of all the earth’s continents.

2. In the tropics, the east-west zonal distance of the Pacific is over 20,000 kilometers.

3. Measured north to south (its meridional extent), the Pacific extends over 15,000 km from the Bering Strait to Antarctica. Impressive figures for a very impressive body of water, I thought, as I headed for fruit and hot oatmeal, figures that can be best appreciated only from a vantage point aboard a ship. I was ready to start another watch as we continued our seismic survey of the Hess Deep.

 

Mary Phillips, Teacher In The Field
Wed, 16 Jul 2003

Saftey at Sea

Since we are so isolated on our vessel, 600 nautical miles northwest of the Galapagos Islands, saftey preparedness is important. Captain Jim Laughlin acts as the ship’s medical officer, and yesterday we had our first minor injury. One of the galley’s crew had slightly burned his finger, but The User’s Manual for the Ewing emphasizes that crew and visiting parties “not attempt to hide any abnormal conditions you experience while on the vessel”; without proper attention, even a small problem can escalate into a more serious one.

On our first morning aboard ship, Joe Stennett, the science officer, stressed safety procedures and mandatory attendance at all safety drills as we watched a 20-minute safety video. Like all vessels, the Ewing must comply with ISM (International Safety Management) standards and code.

Although a bit dated, the video was specifically made for scientists about to start work aboard a research vessel, and it simulated a number of dangerous or potentially dangerous situations that can occur while doing science at sea. These included launching instruments on wet and slippery decks, using chemicals in a lab, working around compressed gas, and dealing with fire at sea.

As I move about the Ewing, from deck to deck inside or out, I am aware of signs pointing to the life rafts on A deck. Every person aboard is listed not only by cabin number and telephone, but also by a station bill number which indicates a specific raft station and number. Within each raft station there are assigned duties, and members of the scientific party are assigned to rafts that also contain one or two crew members more familiar with these. There is food and water contained on each raft, and the personal life jackets that we practiced wearing during a life raft drill contain lights, whistles, and reflective tape.

In addition, each person is also required to bring a survival or sea immersion suit with him to the life raft area. These are kept in conspicuous orange bags in each cabin, and David, one of the graduate students, was chosen to wiggle into one of these “gumby” suits as a demonstration to the science party. The suit may look silly and cumbersome, and the bag is awkward to carry, but the effort should be worth it if the suit were needed.

Even in tropical waters, hypothermia can easily occur if a man is overboard waiting to be retrieved. Life rings with strobe lights are located on deck that can be thrown in rescue while observers point to the person in the water. When I was in the Atlantic Ocean as one of 21 teachers at SEA during late July of 2000, my assignment during the “Man overboard!” drill was that of pointer. Although our “man” was only a large buoy, I can still recall how quickly and how far away it drifted from our sailing vessel and how difficult it was to see in the distant waves while the mates hurried to launch a zodiac and headed out to retrieve it. The drill was a sobering lesson indeed.

Watch your Step

The Ewing is not outfitted for handicapped accessibility. All movement from deck to deck is by stairway with access to the flying bridge by outdoor ladder only. Most doors are heavy, especially the deck's, and sills are raised to keep water out in an emergency. While Joe Stennett stressed to us that falling is the most common accident aboard, the second most frequent source of injury is misuse of the watertight doors, and we were warned not to grip them by their edges when opening or closing them. Their weight alone trapping a hand could cause injury.

Handrails are everywhere inside the vessel hallways, and equipment such as the computer stations in the main lab are all secured by bungee cords. Computer keyboards and laptops sit atop rectangles of frictionless plastic and are also secured by bungees. However, no handrails outfit the lab and we have to carefully watch our step and move cautiously among the racks of scientific data recorders, plotters, and computers. Because the rotating office chairs have had their wheels replaced with wooden blocks, the heavy chairs are relatively stable and not easily moved. As the ship shifts and pitches, however, it’s not unusual to see an empty seat slowly spinning on its axis, ghost-like.

The seas have been moderately active over the past two to three days in connection with tropical winds reported by the captain at Beaufort levels of 4-5. Beaufort 4 refers to a wind speed of 11-16 knots with small waves becoming longer and showing numerous whitecaps, while a level of five can mean winds speeds of 17-21 knots and waves up to a height of 6-8 feet. From the Watchstander’s Post we can check the TV monitor on the waist deck and be aware of any spray coming over the lower deck of the Ewing as well as the condition of the fantail work areas.

Musical Dishes

Somewhat to my surprise on Wednesday, July 16th, my lunch plate and silverware started sliding across the tabletop toward Astrid sitting opposite me. This was the first time I had observed so much movement on the mess tables, which are equipped with flexible side rails, and immediately one of the crew members walked over and presented me with a damp paper napkin. He explained that putting it under my plate would increase the friction between the tabletop and my garlic chicken, he was right. As I looked around at the others, nearly every crewmember was routinely doing the same.

Another lesson learned about safety at sea.

With the end of the final line comes a major and critical transition in our work: the retrieval of the six kilometer streamer, removal of its 28 depth collection weights (known more fondly as "birds"), the retrieval of the 12 guns and their buoys from behind the ship, and finally, the release and capture of the 16 OBSs which were dropped to the ocean bottom at the beginning of the instrument deployment. While the guns and buoy work will be done primarily by the four gunners, the rest of the work, under the direction of Joe Stennett, the science officer, falls to UTIG members.

Once this phase of retrieval begins, all of the science party will be on 24 hour call until the work is successfully completed. According to present logistical calculations, which are updated daily or as needed by Gail Christeson, this phase should be done by mid-afternoon on Tuesday, July 22nd, with the recovery of the last OBS. Only then can the Ewing begin its departure transit back to Panama City.

Hess Deep Mid-Pacific Ping-Pong Tournament

But before streamer retrieval begins later tonight, everyone has been invited, via an announcement posted to the mess bulletin board, to the 8:15PM finals of the EW0305 Hess Deep Mid-Pacific Ping-pong Tournament. With foresight and experience gained from past cruises, Gail, as chief scientist, also assumed responsibility for the morale of the science party and packed deep inside her suitcase a new ping-pong set including net, paddles, and balls.

Once the OBS's were safety deployed, the science area containing their cases was changed into the local rec room, although the rough plywood playing board rigged to metal legs is less than standard size. Erratic balls tend to end up deep in a maze of boxes, lines, and miscellaneous supplies under nearby science lab tables, and the box seats in the viewing area are atop a freezer on the opposite wall, but great fun has been had by all, science party and crew, in the pursuit of ping-pong glory...and two specially designed ping-pong champion tee-shirts donated by the captain.

For the past three days, the tournament has been picking up steam as the Ewing continued to navigate over its shooting grid, with a double elimination bracket featuring eight doubles teams set up by Gail and her "recreation assistant/head nicknamer”, Steffen Saustrup, also known as our seismic processor. Tonight's final match features the undefeated team of graduate student Alejandro Escalona, dubbed the "wailin' Venezuelan" and Matt Tuchs, the first assistant engineer, now called “Piston” Matt. They will battle Steffen, aka “Sven” and his partner, Mari “Mammal”, who is really Mari Smultea, the lead of the marine mammal observation team.

I’ve reserved a prime Press Only seat in front of Yosio Nakamura’s laptop computer in a far corner of the ping-pong area so that I can take video coverage of this important match. This is “Teach” signing off on location from the Hess Deep Mid-Pacific Ping-pong Tournament.

Mary Phillips, Teacher In The Field
Mon, 21 Jul 2003

And the Winner is...

For ping-pong fans, the championship doubles match last night ended with Alejandro and Matt victorious in two straight games: 21-15 and 21-13. The “rec room” will be devoted to the all important OBS retrieval today, but more competitive action lies ahead...

A Little Peace and Quiet

Reading in my berth before sleep last night, I became conscious that something was suddenly missing from the assortment of sounds I had gotten used to hearing down on the D deck. The pings of the bathymetric sonar and assorted swishes of the waves against the ship were still audible, but instead of the constant sequence of dull “booms” which indicated the airgun firing sequence, there was a noticeable quiet.

Up on the fantail or stern of the Ewing, all is also quiet at the moment, with the gun booms swung back to their enclosed positions on the starboard and port sides of the ship. The guns and their attached buoys came in first last night, followed by the booms. Then the long and tideous process of hydraulically reeling in the streamer began, ending at about 6AM this morning when the tail buoys were unfortunately hauled in sideways. Three were lost to the seas in the process, but now the streamer, looking like a huge, multicolored garden hose on its reel, is tucked in tightly as we speed along at 11.5 knots in transit to our OBS retrieval sites, moving considerably faster than the average speed of about 4 knots which we had maintained during the shooting schedule.

Our watch today will consist of regular monitoring and recording of all the critical data associated with the retrieval of each OBS: time, latitude and longitude, course heading, speed, etc. I also hope to get the call to head out to the waist deck, don life jacket and hard hat, and assist with the process.

Just popped into the Main Lab before breakfast to check on the OBS retrieval process. Ben Yates, UTIG's senior engineer in charge, was slumped in his revolving chair looking weary. After spending a continuous 24 hours of retrieval work we successful recovered the first 11 instruments.

Mary Phillips, Teacher In The Field
Tue, 22 Jul 2003

Unfortunately, he also reported that two or three OBS units provided only limited data after their weeklong stay on the ocean bottom. Only five more to pick up and process today during my last watchstander's shift from 8 to 4. With any luck, these will all give us the information we have worked so hard to obtain.

During Monday's shift, Alejandro and I alternated between times in the Main Lab and assisting with the OBS's on the Waist Deck and dry science staging area. This provided us with an opportunity to work hands-on as we joined Ben, Yosio, and the chief scientists on duty in retrieving the remaining instruments, opening them in the staging area, cleaning parts, and checking voltages.

Geophysicists, I've discovered on this trip, really enjoy the hands-on aspects of their work aboard a ship. Part of that enjoyment, I now know from personal experience, comes from being out on the open decks exposed to the constant movement of the waves and the wind in the summer tropics. Despite wind speeds ranging from 15 to 20 knots, tee shirts and shorts feel comfortable, even on the partly cloudy days that have been normal for this cruise. Rarely have I seen anyone wearing a jacket and then only in the early evening hours just before sunset or up on the flying bridge where observers are still on watch starting at sunrise, continuing to collect baseline data on the marine mammals in the Hess Deep area.

If all continues to go well, we'll be throttling up to our full cruising speed of 11 or more knots later this afternoon and setting course back to Panama on the last leg of our trip.

Mary Phillips, Teacher In The Field
Wed, 23 Jul 2003

Beginning transit home

Our data collection phase about the geology of the Hess Deep is complete, although not as successfully as we had hoped. Wednesday's schedule called for the retrieval of the last five OBSs, but only three were actually spotted, returned, cleaned, and disassembled onboard ship. Despite every effort from Ben, Yosio, and the other chief scientists, the watchstanders on duty, namely Alejandro and myself, and with intricate navigational work from the bridge, OBS's numbered 13, 15, and 16 failed to surface or were unable to be spotted from the ship. The glare on the water during the midafternoon may have hampered our sighting efforts, but we continued to radio to the OBS units and/or wait for their backup release systems to automatically trigger until we could wait no longer and had to begin our transit back.

Some data has been lost, of course, and the reasons for emergence failure may never be completely known. Three additional OBS units, retrieved earlier, also returned limited data results, in one case because of a battery failure. Many other variables may be implicated in the other two, with an erratically operating disk drive being one possibility.

While the scientists will continue to download and process data during the transit back, there is a distinctly more relaxed atmosphere on board. For the first time, I got to sleep without an alarm waking me. In fact, I was still snuggled under my navy comforter reading an old 1976 Dick Francis novel when Astrid, my cabinmate, climbed down from her upper berth to head for the shower at 9AM.

Breakfast was long over by 9:30AM, but there was still cereal, bread, fruit, cracker snacks, and other goodies found on the stainless steel bar that filled the port side of the mess. After finishing the novel over a cup of tea, I headed up to the flying bridge to see what might be stirring in the ocean waters today. Mari, the lead mammal observer, had reported over her equally late breakfast that the mate on the bridge had spotted a whale surfacing several kilometers from the ship earlier in the morning.

At present the Ewing is about 400 nautical miles northwest of the Galapagos Islands, heading east at a cruising speed of about 11.8 knotsthat enables it to cover about 260 nautical miles daily. As we get closer and closer to any landforms, we may spot more life. And in just the short 45 minutes before lunch, we did: frigate birds in the distance flying and diving on the starboard side, and then two much smaller birds, probably storm petrels, dipping and rising from the waters portside. We have only traveled about 230 nautical miles or 426 kilometers from the Hess Deep but are already seeing changes in the life around us.

Mary Phillips, Teacher In The Field
Fri , 25 Jul 2003

Just before dinner at 5pm (it was pizza night so there was sure to be a rush for the best selections), an announcement came over the speakers throughout the Ewing: "Cocos Island on the starboard side". I quickly headed up two flights of stairs to the A deck to gaze on land for the first time in over two weeks. Even though it was a misty gray outline, I could just make out its covering of vegetation and a few rock outcroppings. But mixed with my pleasure at the realization that we would definitely be arriving in Panama by Monday was regret that the cruise would be soon ending.

UT Institute for Geophysics
4412 Spicewood Springs Rd. #600
Austin, TX 78759-8500 USA
Fax: 512-471-8844
Phone: 512-471-6156