Longitude: 104°W

It's hard to remember what the actual date is these days. We tend to go by dive days. Today's plan for the submersible was to dive in at Ty and Io vents, check on the Arizona State University's units, send back the elevator containing "The Wommacker," and, as always, collect worms. The sub was piloted by Pat Hickey and had passengers Amir Ghadiri and Eileen Dunn onboard.

The sub's launch was calm and uneventful. On the first couple of Alvin dives, it seemed as though the entire ship's company turned out to watch the launch. Today, the fantail wasn't as crowded as the sub launched. However, I don't like missing a launch. There's so much to see at every launch that it never gets tiring. There's a tremendous feeling of anticipation at launch: will things go smoothly, will the weather stay calm, and most of all — what will they find on the bottom?

After the sub launched, I went to work myself. I've taken so many photos on this trip and written so much that I'm having trouble keeping up with them all. So the plan of the day was to work on the daily pictures, get them captioned, answer some questions from students, and catch up with Dr. Kevin Fielman. I got to the third thing on my list before the lifeboat drill.

10:30 — We had our weekly lifeboat drill today. It's always announced, but this time there was a bit of a surprise. When the alarm bell rings, most of the crew is required to muster (report) to the main science lab for roll call. This is not an optional drill; you HAVE to report to roll call. While the roll was being taken, the alarm bells rang again, and we heard, "Fire in the galley." That's when we noticed that two of the science party were missing; Kurt Williamson and Laura Zirelli. Someone in the science party reported that they had last been seen in the mess deck next to the galley. Someone from the bridge called and asked that all EMTs report to the hospital. Hmmmm — lifeboat drill, fire in the galley, missing persons, hospital???

It all added up to a planned, quarterly fire drill that the Atlantis holds. They routinely run response scenarios and then review the crew's reaction to the emergency. It turned out that Laura and Kurt had been randomly selected as victims and had to be "found" by the search and rescue crew. The cook, Jockie Adapo, had sustained imaginary injuries during the drill, which needed to be checked.

Once the drill was over, the crew got together to talk about their response. They critiqued each other and made suggestions for improvement. They need to always practice these events in case there ever is a real emergency.

Science Report — A lot of good samples were collected on this dive. Pat brought back several large Alvinella, as well as portions of a chimney. Many of the worms made it into the DISSR unharmed. The RNA team (Kevin, Amir, Laura, Barb, Andy, Steve, Jay, and Julie) worked quickly to get the worms frozen for hair collection. It's easier to collect the bacteria from the hairs when they're frozen. Kevin immediately set to work collecting eggs and sperm from the worms for analyses.

Check out tomorrow's journal for some updates on what's happening with RNA collection, culturing of bacteria, and the ASU frying-pan collection. Results are really starting to come in from the collections and things are progressing rapidly.

Bekki Helton , Viral Ecologist, University of Delaware

11:30 — Pat, the Expedition Leader, is piloting Alvin today. He just called up to tell us that the elevator carrying the LVWS (the Large Volume Water Sampler — known to us on board as "The Wommacker" in honor of my professor, Dr. Eric Wommack) has been released and is on its way to the surface. The estimated time to surface is 12:26. All seems to have gone well and the elevator disappeared out of his sight, rising up the water column in the usual manner. The top lab on the ship continues to monitor the satellite transponder until it enters the thermocline. The signal is lost, as is usual, and I go up to the bridge to help look for the buoys to return to the surface. I like to be on the bridge when it surfaces; it's just my thing.

12:30 — No floats have been spotted. At this point, I'm not too worried; sometimes it takes a bit of time to see the floats. They are brightly painted orange and yellow, so it is possible to see them; however sometimes waves hide them. We have alerted the deck crew to stand by for the visualization confirmation. The water was choppy, so we knew it would be a little harder to spot, but we were confident that it would be found.

1:00 — Now I'm beginning to get worried. No one has spotted the floats yet. I've been scanning the water with binoculars, putting them down occasionally because they make me a bit dizzy looking through them due to the ship's movement. The deck crew has been put on further standby, and informed of the situation. I refuse to leave the bridge for very long. I honestly think that if I stay up there, it will surface. If I leave, I'll jinx it. Superstitious I guess.

2:00ish — I've lost track of time. We still haven't found the floats, and we will be postponing the search to retrieve Alvin soon. I keep walking back and forth, across the bridge, to the top lab, looking out the windows, scanning the water. It has to be out there. More people have joined in the search — some out on the bow, others in the bridge. With this many people looking, we HAVE to find it. I think we may exceed max capacity of people on the bridge soon. PJ has moved the ship around, letting it follow the current in hopes of figuring out which way the Wommacker may have gone. Bruce is trying to get a signal on the transponder. Occasionally he thinks he has it, but it doesn't seem to be right, or it stops. Not a good sign, but we're trying. Hepsi was a great support in listening to me. I thought maybe I was beginning to babble, but Hepsi didn't seem to notice (or care).

5:00 — We're going to be losing light soon and still have not found the LVWS. I keep thinking, "at least it wasn't too expensive," but it really doesn't make me feel much better. I realize this is just something that happened, no one is a fault, but I feel responsible. My professor sent Kurt and me out here, and now with only three samples taken, we've lost the entire sampling device. It happens. People keep relaying stories to me about more expensive equipment that went over the ship only to never return from the depths of the ocean. I keep humming a Jimmy Buffett song, "A Pirate Looks at 40", because of the line, "In your belly you hold the treasures few have seen, most of them dreams." Okay, the LVWS isn't necessarily a dream, but it is part of our lab's research, and that's close enough. Neptune just has not been kind to us tonight. The Alvin recovery was fine, and Pat comes up to aid in the search. I don't think I've seen so many people intently gazing out on the ocean trying to spot something. We have been moving the ship around, zig- zagging on a search pattern, but to no avail. This isn't making me happy at all.

6:00 — No joy. My hope is fading faster. We're just not finding the LVWS tonight. To lighten the mood, we start tossing theories around about what might have happened. One theory is that it's been abducted by aliens. Another thought, maybe it's caught on a submarine steaming toward Hawaii. Or of course, a giant sea monster attacked it. None of these are plausible, of course. But it makes me feel a bit better; laughter tends to help. The reality is that it probably never made it out of the thermocline. No one knows what happened or why it didn't surface. Pat watched it leave the bottom, the signal was tracked all the way up to near the surface, and no sounds of imploding floats were heard. By all logical reason, the LVWS should have been on the surface. It's nearly dark; I think I'm going to have to give up. I have to go e-mail my professor regarding the loss. Luckily, he is pretty reasonable and knew that there was always a possibility of this kind of thing happening in ocean research. I still feel bad. I just wish there were something else I could do.

11:00 — It's quite dark outside now. There won't be any further search tonight, obviously. I kind of feel at a loss for what to do. Kurt and I did do a CTD cast tonight, and that made me feel better. At least we got that back on deck safely. Once we cleaned up the lab, we decided to head up to the beach to stargaze. The night sky was incredibly clear. I was honestly angry with myself, the ocean, and the entire universe because of the LVWS loss. But once I got a chance to chill out, lay back on the deck, and stare at the unobstructed night sky, I finally relaxed. There really was nothing I could have done, and things just happen for no reason sometimes. We'll just return home with the samples we have and rebuild The Wommacker. This isn't a defeat — it's simply a setback which can easily be recovered. Simple as that. We'll be back.