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December 15, 2003
Posted by:

Letise Houser, Shipboard Education Coordinator
Gavin Eppard, Pilot-in-Training, Mechanical Technician, Alvin Ops Group, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution George P. Silva, Chief Mate, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution

 

Posted by:
Letise Houser, Shipboard Education Coordinator

After “signing off” last night, I stayed up really late socializing. I hung out chatting with crew for a little while, then I played cards (Spades with altered rules) with some of the scientists, and finished the night watching a horror movie called “28 Days Later.” By the time it was over, it was almost 4 a.m. The only others that stayed awake through it were Joe and Eileen. Surprisingly, though, I was still not exhausted, but I thought it best to head for bed.

My alarm was set for 1030, but my roommate, Irene Garcia, awakened me about 15 minutes before it sounded. She wanted to warn me that the Fire and Boat Drill had been scheduled to take place today at 1030. Awaking to the sound of the ship's horns and bells would have been much more disruptive, so I’m glad she helped me ease into it. For last week’s drill, I had to do the same favor for her; now, I guess we’re even. : ) To get ready, I jumped down from my top bunk, freshened up quickly and got dressed. I had to make sure I had a long-sleeved shirt and a hat for the drill. As I rushed out of the room, I grabbed an evacuation suit and a life vest and made my way to the Main Lab where everyone has to muster. Within minutes, the bell rang — one continuous ring for about 10 seconds — to signal the start of the fire drill. Dave and Chrissy (SSSG techs) took attendance of all the scientists aboard. Once everyone was counted, Dave called the Bridge to report. While the scientists were assembled in the lab, the crew members (“all hands”) rushed to “man their stations.”

After a short debriefing, there was another signal — one long blast of the horn — to evacuate ship. At that point, the group split, going outside to the assigned areas of the deck. All those in a top bunk went to the port (left) side, and those on a bottom bunk went to the starboard (right) side. Attendance was taken again before Craig (2nd Mate) reminded us of the procedures if we really had to evacuate. The Bridge was alerted when the drill had been completed, and we were all dismissed.

Following the drills, we were invited to stay and watch the demonstration on using emergency flares. Rick Bean (3rd Mate) gave us an explanation before shooting off one. One of the Able Bodied Seamen (AB), “Catfish,” was called to practice firing one as well (see Neat Stuff). The onlookers were fascinated by the pyrotechnics! A couple of us jokingly said that the flares were in celebration of Jay’s birthday today. He’s one of several people celebrating birthdays during this expedition, including Liz, Colleen, Don, Shannon, and Bruce.

The show didn’t end with the “fireworks.” There was still “waterworks” left, which came in the form of high-pressure, saltwater hoses. This activity was two-fold. The main objective was to give us a chance to practice using the hoses, so that if the need ever arose, we would know what to expect. The second key objective was to clean the decks. Birds gather above the bow daily, and they leave a mess behind, which had become quite noticeable. So, as some people sprayed (see Neat Stuff), others scrubbed with brushes. When my turn came around to guide the nozzle, I was expecting the force to be harder. Maybe it wasn’t so bad because I had several people holding the hose to back me up.

What an eventful morning, and it was only about 1130 when we were all done. I still hadn’t eaten breakfast, and it was already time for lunch. Given the “heavy” options (pepperoni pizza, hot wings, and more), I opted for a bowl of raisin bran with soy milk, orange juice, and some kind of scone. Craig (2nd Mate) and I shared a table, and he told me all about his endeavors to become a nationally licensed massage therapist.

Speaking of, I could use a massage now, because I’m sore after that overzealous workout yesterday. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to exercise today due to a full schedule. Every moment was somehow occupied. Not only did I have a late start this morning, followed by the drills and activities, but the afternoon was also packed. We had our fifth science seminar, which was presented by Dr. Joe Grzymski (post-doc), entitled “Sea of Love: The Dark Sides of the Ocean. A light introduction to another form of autotrophy or why one day I'll probably write 'siliceous' romance novels.” If you can’t tell from the title, Joe is a laid-back and comical scientist. He did a great job discussing his research and the seriousness of it, while keep the atmosphere “light” and full of puns. He even started the talk with a sound byte from Steve Martin. In general, he talked about the importance of photosynthesis to sustain life, as well as other processes that microscopic primary producers can make food (e.g., using chemicals). His presentation was both informational and entertaining in a well-balanced manner.

As usual, a brief science meeting followed the seminar. Craig distributed our immigration forms that we must complete before reaching port. I did mine while there so that I don’t have to worry about it later. Then it was time to go back to work and begin the countdown until Alvin’s recovery.

It was announced that the sub left the bottom and would surface by 4:50 p.m (1650). When the time came, I took my cameras out and awaited for anything potentially photo-worthy. While waiting, I realized that I was starving for some reason, and I began to look forward to going to dinner. After taking a handful of pics, I headed up to the galley at the earliest possible moment. Of the options, I chose scallops, eggplant, mashed potatoes with gravy, green peas, bread, and salad. The scallops were fried, and I normally don’t eat fried foods, but the other meat was pork, which I don’t eat at all. The scallops were delicious, and I’m glad I gave them a try. Dessert was two flavors of ice cream. I initially got a serving, but my taste buds disagreed with my choice for some reason, so I ended up not finishing it.

Dinner is the turning point in my day because I always have the most work to do afterwards. My routine has become such that it takes me less time to complete all of my nightly tasks than it used to, and I try to make my journal entry the last of them. With that said, I will say good night.

By the way, tomorrow is going to be a big day with the last Phone Call to the Deep and the last dive at this site (9°N) before moving northward (to 13°N). Keep your fingers crossed for bearable weather because there is a chance that the dive will be cancelled due to the effects from a couple distant storms. If the surges are too high and the winds are too strong (25 knots or more), it will be unsafe to deploy Alvin. I’ll let you know how it goes.

 

 

Posted by:
Gavin Eppard, Pilot-in-Training, Mechanical Technician,
Alvin Ops Group, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution

Today was a day that comes along every fifth dive in a cruise for a Pilot-in-Training (PIT). These dives are reserved as training dives for the PITs. Currently we have four PITs in the program, but only two are on board for this cruise. I had the first PIT dive this cruise (Dec. 5), Mark Spear had the second PIT dive (Dec. 10), so today was my turn again.

I started at 5 a.m. with the pre-dive checks of the submarine. This involves checking all the internal systems of the Alvin, life-support, science equipment, and many pages of items that must be on board in order to dive. It takes anywhere from 1–2 hours to complete these checks. With the assistance of the Launch Coordinator outside the sub, propulsion, thrusters, hydraulic and manipulator functions are checked. Once those are complete, we load Alvin with the digital cameras, personal items, laptops, tapes, and last of all, lunch. Then it's off to a quick breakfast and a change of clothes.

Once the sub is attached to the A-frame, the PIT then checks certain systems. Again, all of these checks take place under the watchful eye of the actual pilot-in-command for that dive. On a PIT dive, only one scientist gets to dive in Alvin. The other slot is taken up by the pilot. Once the scientist is inside, you seal the hatch and stand by for the launch. Once the sub is in the water and free of the ship, another series of checks is completed. Only after these checks are completed and the swimmers are safely aboard the small boat does Alvin dive.

On the descent, the PIT must monitor all the sub's systems for any type of problem. So I did all this while discussing the "updated" dive plan, which had changed quite a bit from the previous night’s meeting. I also was responsible for preparing the video recorders, as well as starting up numerous programs on the sub’s computers that are needed during the dive.

As we descended, we also checked out our navigation and started heading to the site “BioVent” to do some work. We landed the sub within 40 meters of the site and immediately set up to take some temperature measurements. Once done with that, we headed to "Q Vent" to sample worms and electrochemistry. Then we deployed a long-term T-probe and moved on to the next site on our list.

After a 600-meter transit to “Tica,” we deployed some "baby traps," which are used for looking at baby tubeworms, and recovered another piece of equipment that was ready to come back on board to the lab. We left Tica and went off-site to pick up another experiment and headed to our last site, “Bio9.” We were supposed to pick up an elevator on the way and deploy it at Bio9, but time and power were short so we proceeded straight to the site. Once there, we recovered four more pieces of gear, took a 10-liter water sample, and dropped weights to start the ascent. Not too bad. We accomplished almost everything on the dive plan, and I learned a lot about sampling techniques in the process. The elevator will have to wait until tomorrow.

During the ascent, you actually get a chance to relax a little, tidy up the sub, eat lunch, and talk with the scientist about the dive. Then you have to get ready for the recovery of the sub. The weather during the day had gotten worse, and being inside the sub in the current sea-state was a little rough, but we landed perfectly on deck. The day started at 5 a.m. and we were on deck by 5 p.m. It was a very busy day.

It was an ambitious dive plan, and everyone was happy that we had accomplished almost all of the objectives. Since the cruise is coming to a close, it's time to start bringing back all the equipment we've left on the seafloor and get all the missing pieces of data from different sites. I think today we did pretty well, but right now, I just want to get a little sleep before we have to get up at 5 a.m. tomorrow and launch the sub again.

Gavin Eppard
Pilot-in-Training

 

 

A Day in the Life of a Chief Mate
on the R/V Atlantis

Posted by:
George P. Silva, Chief Mate,
Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution

The Chief Mate is the head of the Deck Department, the Medical Officer, and also stands the 4 to 8 Bridge Watch or Navigation Watch when the ship is at sea. So my day begins at 0320 with a wake-up call/knock on the door from the AB (Able Bodied Seaman) on the 12 to 4 Watch. Sometimes I am already awake, sometimes not. Take a shower, have a cup of coffee, check or write an e-mail, and be on the Bridge by 0345 to relieve the Second Mate. I also have a watch partner who is an AB. I run the watch, the AB assists as necessary as either a Quartermaster/Helmsmen and/or as a Lookout.

If the Atlantis is in transit, we keep track of the ship’s position, typically plotting positions at least hourly by GPS (Global Positioning System), and we keep “her” headed in the right direction, changing course as necessary as per the course lines laid out on the navigation chart (not map). Keeping a sharp lookout for other ships is very important. Reduced visibility (fog, rain, snow) can make this difficult at times. We rely heavily on the ship’s radars to be the eyes for us during times of reduced visibility. If we are “on station,” so to speak, engaged in oceanographic research, we might perform some sort of night work. This could be any number of things, including CTD, coring, hydrographic survey, dredging, net tows; the list is almost endless. What we do scientifically is up to the needs, goals, and objectives of the Chief Scientist, which is generally biology, or geology, or chemistry, or a combination thereof. Sometimes we do not have any night work. Whatever the case, night ops (operations) stop or end in time for the Atlantis to be back at the Alvin dive site around 0630 to set up and prepare for the day's dive, which in good weather has Alvin being launched close to 0800 every day. Typically, the Third Mate relieves me just before the Alvin launch begins, which is also when the Captain shows up on the Bridge to make it all happen. That’s the morning watch, 0400 ­ 0800.

From 0800 to lunchtime, I can be found doing any number of other things, unrelated to the maneuvering of the ship. Lots of paper work, clerical duties, and administrative duties — staying on top of Deck Department maintenance of machinery and equipment, and trying to address and stay on top of the never ending rusting that every ship is subject to. I also must send and respond to e-mails and such on a regular basis. Then there are the times when I must attend to the needs of the sick and injured…ugh. Not my favorite part of the job. Keeping track of chemicals and requisitions for the needs of the Deck Department can also take up a fair amount of time. I usually take a siesta from noontime until I have to return to the Bridge for my afternoon watch, 1600 ­ 2000. Alvin surfaces between 1600 and 1700 daily, so that happens on my watch every day, weather permitting. I get relieved for 30 minutes from 1700 ­ 1730 for dinner, then I get relieved again at 1945, and my day is over for the most part unless there is a medical concern or I am needed on deck for whatever.

When the ship is in port, however, it’s a different scenario. Loading and off-loading science gear and ship’s stores and such and getting ready for the next scientific “adventure” with a new group of scientists and maybe a couple of new faces in the crew. We may also need to take on additional fuel, all of which are in-port happenings. Of course finding some time for me — getting off the ship walking, dining, shopping, chilling, etc., is also key. It usually all works out, however, like anything else — some days are better than others.

 

 

 

 

Copyright University of Delaware, November 2003