Guam, U.S.A. (13.30, 144.48)

So I am currently sitting in the Denver airport awaiting my flight to Bozeman to go to my brothers wedding. And since Denver is the best, the airport has free internet so I thought I would take advantage of this time for my final blog entry.

Our final night on the ship was spent staying up late and watching stars on the top deck. We could see the faint glow on the horizon telling us Guam was close by. We could also see distant lighthouses flashing from near by islands. I was really cool to see lighthouses from sea. You can count the time between flashes and then match their unique signature to the map.

On Tuesday morning, as we were coming into port we saw a pod of whales cursing north. They were a bit of a ways off; the only thing giving away their presence was the trail of blow spouts. After making port, waiting for the customs agent and paying $60 for a cab, we made it to our hotel by about noon. We spent the afternoon on the beach, by the pool and at the bar. I love land. 

We met up with some of the crew and science team Tuesday evening and drank in memory of the OBSes left behind.

Overall this experience was a very unique and exciting adventure. Not many people can say they have gone 3.5 weeks without seeing land, without hearing their cell phone ring and without ever being still. I got to experience 70 mph winds and amazing sunsets. I learned about the lives of sailors and a bit about boats. I feel very fortunate to have had the crew we did. They are a bright and spirited bunch.

Thanks to all of you who kept me company at sea these last few weeks. Your comments and support got me through the lonely times.

Farewell BBQ (14.30, 145.51)

Tonight we had a delicious BBQ on the back deck of the ship. We pulled out the grill and had a meat fest made up of dogs, brats, sausages, steak and ribs. We got to sit outside and enjoy the warm tropical evening and sunset. It was a delicious way to spend our last evening on the ship. Tomorrow morning we will be arriving in Guam around 8 am. I might be cracking open a beer around 10 am to celebrate (don't judge, that is like 6 pm in Rhode Island). Then off to the beach for Tina and I. That is assuming I can figure out how everything once was packed into my backpack. Wish me luck!

SNQ (18.34,147.23)

The Trophy

America has Sunday Night Football, the R/V Kilo Moana has Sunday Night Quoits. The championship game to be exact - this one is for all of the marbles folks. Last night was the semi-final matches and almost the whole crew was packed in the quoit arena. The music was load and the energy was high. The only thing missing was beer and a hot dog. The last of the science teams was defeated and tonight the championship game was between the chef (reigning champ) and kitchen assistant 1 vs. kitchen assistant 2 and one of the science lab tech guys. Needless to say, the kitchen was full of trash talking and excitement today. You could cut the tension with a knife (the same knife, in fact, that I used to cut my grilled cheese sandwich). The trash talking reached a whole new level when a victory cake proclaiming "2010 Quoits Champs" with the chef's team's names on it was set out at dinner, 2 hours before the match. Who knew such a low blow could come from white and blue frosting and rainbow sprinkles. By the end of dinner, the cake had been defaced, saying "2010 Quoits Chumps". Things were getting dirty. As 7:00 pm rolled around, the stadium was bursting at the seams and the stereo base was loud and low. In the end, the cake did not lie, and the chef was named champion, again.

The stadium was packed.

The winning double ringer.

The champs blinded by the flashing bulbs of the paparazzi.

On the other battle front, the scientific data damages has been analyzed and the final count is this: of the 12 OBSes recovered, 8 recorded data and only 4 of those 8 had the full years worth of data. So that means 4 of 16 OBSes functioned properly. Not good. Granted we were setting records for depth deploying these instruments in the locations we were, but we had hoped for a far better success rate. Without having the complete arrays of data, we will not be able to answer the questions we set out to. However, after looking at the data, there are some interesting and unexpected wave phases that were recorded, which could lead to answering other questions. So hopefully in the end, this mission will be able to make some forward progress to characterizing structure of the upper 400 km of the Earth. We will have to wait and see.

We have one more full day on the ship. That means I only have to wake up at 4 am one more time for my watch. Hooray! We get to celebrate Monday night, our last night on the ship, with a BBQ on the upper deck. Then Tina and I plan to spend as much of Tuesday as we can soaking up land on the beaches of Guam.

Early Morning (22.49, 148.41)

 

 

Time To Go Home (27.31, 149.08)

Today was a dreary day at sea and not just because of the weather. Tina started analyzing some of the data, only to find that the first three OBS data sets were nothing more then 365 days of noise. No seismic activity was recorded. They are unsure still as to what went wrong. They don't know if it was set up incorrectly, if the seismometer leaked or if the pressure was just too great that the instruments could not properly function. This is not good news for our scientific breakthroughs. I do not know yet what the rest of the data looks like but things are not looking up.

Tina and I also lost in the first round of the illumination bracket for the quoits tournament. The final score was 21-12. I guess all of the OBS recovering got us out of quoits shape. So we don't have being awesome to look forward to any more either.

In addition to all of the negative energy of the day, I think all of the science team is getting cabin fever and is pretty much done seeing each other. Interactions are short and only when required. We are all tired and the further deterioration of the science mission has everyone pretty glum. I think everyone is looking forward to a cold beer.

We finish surveying this evening and set our sights on Guam at about 1 am tomorrow (Saturday) morning. We are expected to port in Guam at about 9 am on Tuesday morning. Personally, Guam can't come soon enough. Being so far from home has finally sucked me dry and I am badly in need of solid ground, my husband and enough room in the shower to shave my legs.

White Flag (28.17, 149.54)

Today we finally surrendered to the sea. No more OBSes would be recovered. Not due to lack of trying however. Our final effort finished this morning after 12 hours of trying to communicate with our last instrument (and last hope). Drastic measures for communicating consist of lowering a "rescue beacon" 5000 m (3.1 miles) into the sea in order to get closer to the OBS. Pictured right is the crew setting up the rescue beacon (the yellow cylinder) to be deployed. It takes about two hours to lower the beacon 5000 m. The big gray cylinder is a 400 lbs weight to aid in the decent. After getting no clear responses, we finally called the OBS mission off.

Of the 16 OBSes that were deployed, we recovered 12 ( 9 of 10 of the G1s and 3 of 6 or the G2s). Additionally, two of the recovered G2s had incomplete data sets- one with only 80 days of data and one with only 240 days of data. Two of the recovered G1s also had incomplete data sets, both only collecting about 80% of the total data. We won't know the total repercussions of the lost data until the data we did collect is analyzed. If it is high quality, there is still hope for our science mission.

The question we are trying to answer is how thick is the plate (the hard outer layer of the Earth that migrates and subducts and causes earthquakes) in old ocean seafloor. By answering that question, we will have some insight to the thermal dynamics occurring in the interior of the Earth, since how fast that plate can cool and thicken depends on how hot the interior of the Earth is and how fast it is cooling off. These results would be a physical observation to try to match with the theoretical thermal models that I program on the computer.

Tina and I spent our time after dinner tonight getting a tour of the engine room and bottom of the ship. Since the hulls of the ship are divided up into water proof compartments (so if we spring a leak, the water will be contained in one holding cell and we wont have a repeat of the Titanic) to get a tour of the inter workings of the ship you have to climb up and down over the water barriers and through tiny little man holes. Plus it is really hot and load down there. We definitely got a work out. When we got to the bottom of the ship, we were 45 ft below the water surface and standing in the little torpedo looking things at the bottom of the hulls.

The things that I remember leaning is that the ship has 4 engines, two in each hull and that it carries about 135,000 gallons of fuel (enough to be out at sea for about 50 days). If you guess about $5 a gallon, that is over half a million dollars just in fuel. It also carries enough supplies that they could build an entire additional engine if they needed to. The ship makes its own drinking water, using the heat from the engine to evaporate sea water, which is collected, condensed and then ready to drink. It only costs about 5 cents a gallon to make drinking water. Pretty clever if you ask me.

Control board for all engine components. Looks like a movie prop from a bad 50s Sci-Fi movie

Restricted Access... Oh yeah, we got connections. Fine print reads Starboard Motor Room.

Tina between the two starboard engines.

We also found the candy stash.

One of the larger and cleaner of the man holes we had to climb though.

The propeller shaft that drives the propellers, which are on the other side of the wall. Don't get your hair stuck in that one girls.

A for Effort ... (27.56, 151.15)

F for recovery.

After trying to talk to the OBS for 14 hours, pulling out every option imaginable, we called it quits. As we sat around in the lab taking notes and listening for any faint response from the OBS, our hopes slowly plummeted. The only thing that kept us all from flat-lining during the wee hours of the morning was the occasional humorous banter over the radio between the crew members.

We have been flanked by storm clouds for the last few days which have provided quite the rainbow display. Out here, with nothing to get snagged on, the rain clouds move across the sea at their leisure and so far, none of our rain showers have lingered. As we left the OBS site this morning, the sun was rising and sending us on our way with this good looking scene.

The rest of the day was pretty mellow. I spent my time reading, knitting, painting my toes and watching a movie. We are headed back to the site of the other non-responsive OBS and are hoping this time it will magically cooperate so we can steal back a point from the sea. We are taking a zig-zag route, mapping and surveying as much new ocean floor as possible as we go. We have about 20 hours of down time until we need to get our hopes up just to watch them fall again (I am not very optimistic as you can tell).

Another One Bites The Dust (26.49, 149.58)

We are currently on location at our last OBS site and things do not look good. We have been trying to talk to it for 4 hours with no clear reply yet. We are pulling out all the tricks, but I stopped holding my breath after hour 3. We have two days until we need to start our trip to Guam, which were supposed to be used for surveying and mapping, but may instead get used up trying to save our last two OBSes still stuck on the bottom. I am not sure when you call it quits, but these two stragglers are in key locations on the ocean floor, so recovering even one of them would help a lot.

When you think about it though, it is amazing these things return to us at all. I mean we are sticking these instruments, the size of a mini fridge, at 6,000 m below the sea surface (3.72 miles) at near freezing temperatures and expect them to survive for a year. Then we come back a year later and try to communicate with it by using tiny acoustic pings, which sound more like a chirp of a song bird, which are supposed to carry a ten digit code through 6 km of ocean and be heard by the OBS. At any time a tiny fish could swim in the way and mess up part of that signal ( I am not really sure if that is how it works, but that is what I picture). Then we expect the OBS to send a response across all that ocean and be heard by our coffee can size transponder dangling off the back of a very noisy ship. THEN, the OBS needs to still be functioning properly so that it can drop its anchors and float to the surface. In order to see it on the surface, the radio transmitter and strobe light need to be working and the ship needs to be in the right position. There are about a million things that could go wrong, the most probable being a whale carcass is laying on top of the OBS blocking communications and not letting it rise to the surface.

We did make two successful recoveries earlier today, so chalk up two points for Science. I am going to temporarily give this current OBS point to the ocean, however, and hopefully that will change by the time I wake up in the morning. My watch shift is over, which I am celebrating with a bowl of ice cream topped with gummy bears, and then I am headed off to bed.

Women at Work (Tina and Julia)

Knit One, OBS Two (28.44, 149.35)

We had a successful recovery this morning around 2 am (chalk it up!) and spent the majority of the rest of the day wrestling with another OBS. We were having a difficult time communicating with it and are unsure whether it is due to the choppy waves (winds picked up this afternoon) or due to the fact that the glass ball used for flotation imploded and damaged the radio equipment. At 3 pm we called it, needing to move on. We are going to go pick up our next two OBSes and then swing back by and try to communicate with it again, hopefully in better weather. So the sea has temporarily scored another point. But everyone keep your fingers crossed because this is one of the important ones.

I spent most of the day on the back deck, knitting and watching it rain. Some of the crew was unable to do work around the ship because of the weather so they were sitting around keeping me entertained. Tina joined me for some craft time too. Then we decided we needed naps. For dinner we had roasted game hens with baked manicotti, steamed vegetables and rosemary roasted potatoes. Dessert was butterscotch chip blondies with ice cream. It was a pretty rough day at sea.

Rain and Rainbows (28.13, 150.32)

I have been trying to make myself spend a good chunk of time outside each day. It is easy to get stuck in your routine, going from one air conditioned room to another, and unless we are pulling OBSes out of the water, you have to make a conscious effort to go outside. Depending on our heading and the time of day, I will either hangout on the port side bow or pull up a collapsible camping chair on the stern. This afternoon I got to enjoy the site of rain cloud veils dusting the distant (and no so distant) sea and watch rainbows dance across the sky as we chugged along. It was very peaceful.

Today was a big recovery day. At noon, we were all riding on the high of getting our second of the day, which would mean by the end of the day we would have collected three. This would be a big momentum boost for the science team. This momentum boost was soon stomped out, however, when the engineers pulled the tube out of the OBS that housed the data and battery pack only to find that it had water in it, smelled of rotten eggs and was completely chard on the inside. The engineers, knowing way in advance what the situation was, promptly dropped the whole thing over the edge of the boat, data and all.

The rest of us watched in jaw dropping horror until we got the explanation. The OBSes are powered with lithium batteries, 11 to be exact. When water leaks into the battery housing it can (and usually does) cause the battery to short circuit. If a spark is produced, the lithium can ignite. When the molten lithium comes in contact with seawater, it reacts exothermically (it gets REALLY hot) and produces hydrogen, which is very flammable, and other toxic corrosive gasses. This hot, fiery, toxic mess if very dangerous because it can not be put out with water and will just consume anything in its path. In this situation, they think the leak occurred a long time ago and we were just smelling the bits of gas that were left. But if a leak were to occur as the OBS was ascending, and that flammable reaction was peaking when the OBS was being lower onto the ship, it is a really dangerous situation. There was a situation a few years ago where that exact thing happened and when the engineers tried to pull out the data tube, a fire broke out that burned through that deck and the deck below it before the crew could put it out. Each lithium batter has the energy density of about half a sick of dynamite and when you have 11 batteries in close proximity to each other, the situation can quickly get out of control. Needless to say, if any signs of a lithium fire exist, it is much safer to just throw the whole thing back into the water, which is what our engineers did. Chalk one up for the ocean.

Losing that OBS data was a bummer because it was in a key location for the OBS array. That means we are relying on the two remaining G2 OBSes to provide the data that we just lost. And seeing how unreliable the G2s have been so far, it is not the kind of basket I want to be putting all of my eggs in. However at this point, we don't have any other options.

We made our third recovery of the day successfully around sunset. It was raining a little and the sun was setting on the port side of the boat and at the same time a giant rainbow filled the starboard side of the boat. The recovered OBS sat happily between the two. We took it as a good omen, hopefully for the rest of the trip, but at least for one more successful recovery.

Sea Crazy (28.27, 153.29)

There are two groups of instruments, from two different universities, that we are collecting. One of the groups instruments are preforming beautifully and the recoveries are quick and efficient (about 2.5 hours). Group #2's instruments however, are a bunch of dysfunctional ghetto hoopties. The recoveries, if they come up, are taking 5-7 hours.

Due to these interactions, the OBSes have taken on personalities in my head. They are like little animals.  I picture the first group, lets call them G1, are like well behaved and loveable pets. They look really cute bobbing around at sea and when the finally get on deck they look so happy. I picture them wagging their tail with excitment and breathing heavily after holding their breath for a year. As Danny so well put it "I picture them sitting on the deck with a big squishy smile looking up at you with their little eyebrows raised, really trying to look up because they can't move, as though looking for your approval on the trick they just did by rising to the surface on command." It just makes me want to hug them.


When we have to pick up the second group, G2, it is an exhausting experience. It is like watching someones poorly behaved dog that is whiny and pees all over your house. When I see the G2s limply bobbing in the ocean, I look at them a bit irritated and disgusted. They seem like pail weaklings that can't fend for themselves, don't behave well and just flounder in the water. But then I feel a little sorry for them, because it is not their fault that their owners did not invest in high-tech, fail-proof design. But I still don't like them.

One thing that probably does not help the irritation is that when we are actively talking to the OBS, the ship has to be turned off. We communicate with acoustics, so the extra noise from the engines interferes with the command signals. One thing I have learned is that being on a ship dead in the water is twice as bad as being on a moving ship. Every wave is exaggerated. It is like being on the teacup ride and they won't let you off. When we collect the G1s, the ship is only turned off for about 30 mins when we tell it to let go of its anchor. The G2s, since they don't behave properly, force the ship to be off for 5 to 7 hours. So by the time the G2s surface, there is not a very big place in my heart for them.  


Perhaps I am getting a bit Sea Crazy. Either way, OBS collecting is half way over. They were deployed in two clusters and we finished the first group today.  We have 8 more OBSes to pickup, 5 G1s and 3 G2s.

We now get to relax for about 17 hours as we transit to the location of the 2nd group. I think we are all taking advantage in the momentary lull in action to catch up on sleep, do some laundry and to knit. OK, well maybe just Tina and I are knitting.

Pizza and Sunsets (29.37, 154.16)

Standing on the boat in the dark during OBS recoveries, looking out into the black distance, searching for a tiny blinking light somewhere on the horizon, the extent of the darkness undeniable. It is an odd feeling having no frame of reference to your existence. No moon or stars to orient you. As you stare out into the darkness, you can't tell where the sky starts and the sea ends. No reference of distance. You are so use to motion and without any point of reference you cant tell if the boat is bobbing in one place or if it is turning or moving. It is a bit alarming to feel so disoriented. It is not until the little blinking light surfaces can you get some perspective on where a distant horizon might be. Not until you see that blinking light move from the port to the starboard side, do you realize that the boat is actually turning around.

OBS recovery is in full swing, with two more successful recoveries today. Today we had our first day light recoveries. On the previous recoveries, all at night, we had a blinking strobe light to alert us to the OBS's location. In the daylight, however, you have to spot the tiny orange flag bobbing in the waves. There is also a radio signal on the OBSes, but we have not had the best of luck so far with it functioning properly. I got one point today for spotting one of the OBSes first. Can you see it?

The first one of the morning took twice as long as it was supposed to because the OBS only dropped one of its weights successfully. Slowly but surely, it made it to the top... 5 hours later. The recovery this evening was much smoother.

Tonight was Pizza Friday. It is amazing how knowing you get pizza for dinner can lift ones spirits for an entire day. After our evening OBS recovery, Tina and I grabbed a couple slices of pizza and headed to the deck to watch the sunset. It was a beautiful, clear evening and I saw my first green flash right as the last bit of the sun went down. I was able to catch a sliver of it on film. It was not a big flash, but a sliver of green light non the less.

Victory and No Sleep (29.54, 155.34)

We were able to retrieve two more OBSes successfully yesterday. Go Science! Somehow all of the retrievals have occurred during my time on watch so I have been staying busy and staying up too late. Tina and I got to assist in the actual retrieval last night. We had to stand in the back and be assistants to the guys who have to hook the OBS as it floats by. We handled their poles for them and made sure the lines did not get tangled. We felt pretty official. We even go to wear hard hats.

Victory and Defeat (27.47, 154.54)

Our first OBS recovery attempt started at 5:30 am. Once we were in range, the OBS engineers sent down a signal to tell the OBS to release its anchors. They can then send additional signals to figure out how far away the OBS is so they can tell if it is rising. After signaling it to release its anchors for about 2 hours, the OBS still had not moved from the seafloor. The ocean had claimed its first victim. There are a million ways something can go wrong and there is no way of knowing what happened. The OBS might have been stuck in mud or the flotation devices could have imploded due to such high pressures. There is about a 2/3 success rate with these instruments, where failure could be due to not getting them off the seafloor or if we do get them back on the ship, having something mechanical go wrong so we can't get any data from it. We knew sooner or later we loose a solider to the sea. It was not a good way to start off the day or the mission. As one of the engineers put it "There is our 70 thousand dollar contribution to the seafloor."

Our spirits brightened a little when Tina and I won our first Quiot game, handily at that (21-11). Due to my quoit-elbow I had to change throwing techniques. It turns out I am better with my new method. We were both on today - GO SALTY STICHERS!

After cutting our losses at the first OBS site, we had to travel about 7 hours to get to the next site. This OBS got off the seafloor on the first try. Once the OBS is confirmed to be rising, we had to wait around for about 2 hours for it to get to the top. They rise about 45-50 m/min, but they are just really deep so it takes a while. While we waited, we spent our time watching sunsets, watching squid and watching distant thunderstorms.

 At one point, one of the crew members got out a fishing pole. He was fishing for squid (or whatever else that was biting) and he let me cast a couple times, which resulted in my first squid catch. It was a riot trying to reel that thing in. I am pretty sure it was related to The Kraken because it fought like a sea monster. It also squirted me with a gut full of seawater. Tina got it all on film.

Finally the OBS surfaced and Tina was the first to spot it (WooHooo! That earns you serious bragging rights). There it was, blinking its strobe light off in the distance, telling us it was ready to be picked up after a long year on the ocean floor. Welcome home little buddy.

The Captain steering the boat from the back deck. OBS blinking in the water.

That'll do pig. That'll do.

Day Off (28.30, 159.22)

Not having to set an alarm to wake up at 4 am was a gift. We are about the start the OBS retrieval and rearrange watch schedules, so the last two days we have orchestrated alternating days off between watch partners so we each have a chance to rejuvenate. Today was mine.

I spent the morning playing with my camera. I ended up at the bridge and the 3rd mate let me steer the ship. Well, really he let me hold the wheel. The ship mostly runs on auto pilot. But he explained what all of the knobs and dials did. He showed me the sexton (which is used to measure the height of a star in the sky) and explained about celestial navigation (which never really gets used anymore, but is a romantic thing to hear about). I also spent a chunk of the morning working on my quoit technique. I have to stop letting Tina down.

But the biggest highlight of my day was when I found out that we get Thanksgiving Dinner for dinner, complete with pumpkin pie! I am so excited. Not much else to report. Here are some photos from this morning.

T- Rex (28.05, 164.19)

Let me change my previous statement... I became worried. The pony reference no longer holds up either. Any previous description of wild is also no longer relevant.

Being on the ship last night and experiencing 55-70 mph winds (and the waves that came along with those winds) is better described by hiding in an overturned, mangled car from Tyrannosaurus Rex. *Picture yourself holding on to the car seats for dear life so you don't fall out the smashed out windows. Clinching your jaw and holding your breathe so he does not hear you. Listening to the car moan from the torture it has experienced. Then, about every 10 minuets, just when you think he has left you alone, T-Rex picks of the car in his mouth, shakes its wildly and throws it across the dark field. Repeat from *. It was a very long night.

The top roll (side to side tilt) recorded for the ship was 18 degrees. That is really big for a double hulled ship which are supposed to be very stable for roll motions. Things were crashing and banging all over the ship through out the night. Sitting on watch, our chairs would slide from one side of the lab to the other. I did not get much sleep.

This morning however, the winds had died down to about 25 knots (~28 mph). Yesterday I would have called that wild, but this morning it seems more like a gentle fall morning breeze. The rest of the day was mostly sunny, but still pretty choppy. Tina and I played our third quoit game. We lost, but it was a nail biter. We were down 17-20 and Tina pulled out a ringer to tie the game 20-20. I was unable to hold up my side of things and we ended up losing 21-20. But I think we are getting the hang of it and are about to break out. Stay tuned.

Stormy Weather (27.27, 169.30)

We awoke this morning to 35 mph winds. Getting around the boat felt like someone just made me put my head to the end of a bat and spin around 10 times. It takes a lot of effort to get anywhere. Tina and I had an Extreme Quoits match (the game must go on) this morning. We lost. But it was indeed humorous to toss a ring as you are stumbling from one side of the staging bay to the other. By the way, the staging bay is kind of like the garage of the ship. We had the door open so we could see the wild sea crashing in the background, but it was dry in the bay so we could still play. After the game, we just sat and watched the storm for awhile. It was really pretty. Every once in a while you would get a wave crash across the deck. It was kind of like watching fireworks.

View from the staging bay at the back of the ship.

Needless to say I did not go outside at all today. We had grilled cheese and tomato soup for lunch which was perfect for such stormy weather. I  just knit, watched movies and did laundry. So really it was like any other rainy day in Providence. Well except for the fact that you bounce off of everything anytime you try to walk anywhere.

 
This evening after dinner the winds picked up to 45-55 mph and are blowing at 90 degrees to us. The captain has since said no one was allowed to go outside and if you must, you have to alert the bridge, have a buddy and be wearing a life vest. We spent the day tying things down so now we just have to ride this pony till she gets tiered. There has been some big waves crashing over the starboard bow. The captain says they have seen worse so I am not worried yet. Yeehaah!