Author: Chris Harvey

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Chris Harvey, June 22, 2006

NOAA Teacher at Sea
Chris Harvey
Onboard NOAA Ship Oscar Elton Sette
June 5 – July 4, 2006

Mission: Lobster Survey
Geographical Area: Central Pacific Ocean, Hawaii
Date: June 22, 2006

Science and Technology Log 

“If your mind and heart are true, the world is good.”

I have quite taken to the idea of including a quote at the beginning of every journal entry. Although it is rather reminiscent of my warm up assignment for my kids in class each day (yes, I did vow not to speak of class again on this trip), I find that if I start my day with a good quote, it helps to keep my thoughts a little clearer throughout the rest of the day. For this reason I drink a cup of green tea in the morning, and tend to heed the advice of the little slip of paper attached to the tea bag.

This morning was different, however, since I did not get out of bed until 12:30 in the afternoon! I messed up my routine with my daily quote and my hot cup of tea with breakfast, but the chance to sleep in was one I knew I must take advantage of. This is my summer vacation after all!

We had drills almost immediately after I woke up. This meant that the general alarm was sounded, ensuring that I was in fact awake, and we had to muster on the boat deck until our fake fire was extinguished. In this drill, I got to hold a fire hose and spray water out into the ocean. I think when I get back I am going to be a fireman instead of a teacher! We also had our “abandon ship” drill, which required us to muster at the lifeboats with our safety jacket, long sleeve shirt and pants, and our exposure suit (My favorite part of this drill came on our first day when we actually got to try on the exposure suit. I looked like a sunburned Gumby!). I always look at the people who are supposed to be on my lifeboat as potential meals when the dry rations run out. (This is, of course a joke. I am finding that my humor on the ship is often a bit too witty for the crew. And so my journal entries are becoming my outlet for my release of humorous energy.)

After drills I watched a couple of movies. The first is one I know my mother would enjoy on a Friday night, wrapped up in her four kittens with a bowl of popcorn and a wine spritzer (can I say wine spritzer in a journal entry?!) It is a British fairy tale of sorts, upon Amee’s insistence, called Nanny McPhee. Amee was confident that I would not be able to sit through the whole thing. Not only did I watch the movie from start to finish, but also I found myself with moistened eyes at its happy ending! (We watched Hotel Rwanda yesterday and I was in full-fledged tears. Do not expect happy feelings from that one.)

We then put in Madagascar, one of my new cartoon favorites! I have to say that if I were a kid again, which I am still at heart but not in outward appearance, most of the humor would have gone right over my head. As it is, the humor settled perfectly on my level and I am now in a rather cheerful mood. This is partly due to the fact that it brought back memories to a very positive classroom experience for me.

One of my students, a “favorite” if a teacher is allowed to have “favorites,” brought in the movie and asked me to show it in class one day. Unfortunately I did not have the creative capability to find a way to incorporate it into my curriculum (Boss, if you are reading this, can you find the creative capability to incorporate it into my curriculum?!). But she wanted to share with the class a song that best described her personality and outlook on life. Yes, even as a science teacher I dared step into the realm of exploring my student’s personalities and modes of expression. She shared with us the song “I like to move it, move it,” which is really very basic in terms of its lyrics. But put into the context of the movie, I found it to be very descriptive of this child.

The particular student, call her Sue for the sake of simplicity, had one of the biggest hearts that I have ever had the fortune to come in contact with. She struggled very hard with my class, but always came into my room with a smile on her face and asked me what she could do for me. I always told her she could teach the class for me so I could sit in the back and take a nap, and she always laughed (even though there wasn’t much funny about that comment). I would ask my students to keep track of what I call their “List of 5’s and 3’s,” which was a list that we would make every Monday at the beginning of class that would address 5 positive things and 3 negative things that the students did to/for themselves, and 5 positive things and 3 negative things that the students did to/for other people. I always stressed the things that we did for other people, which was always the hardest for most of the students. However, Sue never had any problems with her list because her life was so full of helping other people who each time she did something good for someone else, she was doing something good for herself. She asked me if it was OK for her to have both lists contain the same thing. I looked at her and smiled as I said that it was, because inside of me I had a particular jealousy over the fact that she could have such a heart.

In all my traveling I look for friendly faces in time of need. Whether I need directions to a particular location, or a place to sleep at night, I find that- although many times they are few and far between- friendly faces always emerge at just the right time to help me out of the situation. Finding a child like Sue in my very own classroom was a blessing to me because I did not have to go out and seek that friendly face among strangers. She made it a point to be so brilliantly kind and generous to every one of her classmates and teachers, that it was hard to have complaints after having her in class, even if it wasn’t the best of days. It is strange now to speak of a child with such high regard, but as I tell my students at the end of every semester before I let them go into the world, a teacher can learn a great bit more from his students than his students can learn from him, if he pays attention to them and takes the time to get to know them.

I say that I am hesitant to think about school while on my summer vacation, but it warms my heart to think about all of the positive things I have seen in and around my classroom as a result of my kids. Too often I find myself grumbling about how terrible and destructive students are for themselves and for others. And though I am reminded by others, especially my mother who is not only a great parent but also a colleague at school, that “children will be children,” and that I was no worse than they were when I was their age, I take great comfort in watching my kids progress through the months that they are in my classroom.

I spoke earlier on this trip with Amee about a similar idea, and mentioned in some way that “kids these days” are… (I don’t remember exactly what I said, but the … could be filled in by pretty much anything). She smiled and looked at me and repeated what I said. At that moment I realized that, perhaps for the first time, I was a “Grown-Up.” I had made the discrimination between myself and a younger generation, and I realized that I have moved onto a new phase in my life where I am often viewed with the same contempt by some of my students as I held some of my teachers. And on the other side of things, I remember how well I respected and adored some of my teachers for their instruction and for the way they seemed to care about me. This has been a truly revolutionary moment in my life, as an adult and teacher, because I see now how much of an impact I have on my kids- whether positively, or negatively.

So I think about the song from Madagascar and it makes me smile. I think about Sue and how she has probably filled her summer with chances to make the world a better place. And it leaves me out here in a moment of solitude and reflection, as I take in the scenery around me, wondering what the world would be like without such friendly faces among strangers.

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Chris Harvey, June 21, 2006

NOAA Teacher at Sea
Chris Harvey
Onboard NOAA Ship Oscar Elton Sette
June 5 – July 4, 2006

Mission: Lobster Survey
Geographical Area: Central Pacific Ocean, Hawaii
Date: June 21, 2006

Science and Technology Log 

“Accept something you cannot change, and you will feel wetter.” -Taoist principle, modified

While working in the pit the last three days, I have noticed a peculiar anticipation out of which two Taoist principles emerge:

  1. Do I look behind me in constant fear that the next swell will be the one that crashes over the side and drenches me?
  2. Do I avoid getting wet at all costs, holding onto the comfort of dry boots and clothing for as long as possible?

A quick reminder of what the “pit” is. Along the port side (left) of the ship about halfway between bow and stern (right in the middle) there is a section of the ship designed for hauling in lobster traps and the catch from long line fishing. It is between 5 and 10 feet above the waterline and, at parts, very open to approaching waves. Depending on how much the ship rolls on the swells (rocks back and forth on its sides), and how large the swells are that day, it is possible to take large quantities of water into the pit.

Our first few days were very uneventful in that the ship did not roll very much because there were small, if any, swells in the Pacific. In such conditions, one could expect to remain rather dry and comfortable while working in the pit. However, since the swells have picked up, thus causing the ship to roll quite a bit, working in the pit has meant inevitable inundation from the sea. Herein lie the principles at hand.

1. The question of constantly turning one’s head in attempt to see whether the next approaching swell is large enough to get one soaking wet is really an issue of accepting the inevitable in a prescribed situation. When you consider the conditions that you are 1) working on a ship in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, 2) hauling in lobster traps from the bottom of the seafloor, 3) closer to the swells than anywhere else on the ship, you must accept the fact that at some point in the 8-9 hour day, you will be soaking wet. Yet some of us, myself included, find the temptation to look over our shoulders at times too much. It is not enough to see our partner’s eyes, which are facing the oncoming waves, grow larger and larger as a wave approaches. We must then turn ourselves to see what fate we, in fact, cannot change. I have saved a bit of advice from a fortune cookie that I opened once in June 2001 (Yes, I remember the date because the advice has proven that important over time): “Accept something you cannot change, and you will feel better.” In this case I think the fortune should read, “Accept something you cannot change, and you will feel wetter.”

2. The question of avoiding getting wet at all costs is a simple extension of the first question. It is inevitable that one will be drenched by the end of the day when working in the pit. This is one fate, as reluctant as one might be, that is best admitted at the onset of work. It is true that wet boots are known for causing wrinkly toes. But if you seek the good in wrinkly toes, whatever that may be, then the anxiety of having them will be extinguished. One can then proceed to crack open traps with the peace inside that salt water can be the cure for the common soul, in addition to being the cure for the common scrape or cut. In fact, I find it quite a relief to stomp around in the seawater like a child dancing in the rain. Others might consider this childishness irrelevant to the job, when in fact remaining a child at heart is one of the best, if not the best, remedies for any ailment or anxiety.

As you can probably tell, I am at a loss of things to write about. Still I am known for finding obscure trivialities and then elaborating on them until they seem important! In any case, we have hauled in the last of the lobster traps at our Necker Island location, and are now underway further north and west towards Maro Reef. It is supposed to take us two days to get there, in which we are given a chance to get some solid rest and sleep. The last two weeks have been rather full of activity and I think it will be nice to have some time off.

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Chris Harvey, June 20, 2006

NOAA Teacher at Sea
Chris Harvey
Onboard NOAA Ship Oscar Elton Sette
June 5 – July 4, 2006

Mission: Lobster Survey
Geographical Area: Central Pacific Ocean, Hawaii
Date: June 20, 2006

Science and Technology Log 

Today has been rather uneventful in the world of lobster fishermen. I was in the pit as a cracker for my last day for a while. That is good because dead fish are no fun to play with. Except that I made friends with “Albert the Albatross” with the help of Amee. She would get on one side of the boat and whistle at Albert (who she incidentally named, very creative that girl is!) and I would wait on the other side for him to fly away from her. Then I would toss him a fish and he would be happy. And I would be happy watching him be happy. Then the sharks below him would be happy because they would think that they had a nice feather-filled snack (if sharks could think, this is what they would think). Then Albert would try to take off. The goofball that he is, he would flap his wings and then kick his feet along the top of the water as though he was running a marathon. (I tell you what, if I had a dozen Galapagos sharks underneath me fighting over who was going to get a nice bite out of my rear end, I would be running on top of the water too!) Albert would get away and we would both be happy once again. It has been a very happy day for pretty much every party involved. Except of course for the mackerel that we use as bait. They have been very unlucky for a long time. At least since they were caught and frozen and shipped from Taiwan several weeks ago. Before then I am sure that they were as happy as a school of mackerel could be!

I have found myself in the middle of a book by Antoine de Saint-Exupery, the author of The Little Prince. He had an amazing life, short as it was, and kept track of his adventures and stories along the way. In the story I am reading now, Wind, Sand, and Stars, he recounts his first years as a French airmail pilot back in the 1920s and 1930s. Talk about amazing stuff. The guy seemed to crash a plane every few weeks! And he walked away from all but one (the one in the middle of World War II that was responsible for his disappearance forever). I am also reading a short book of his quotes on the side. He was a very insightful human being- full of love and compassion and optimism for the human potential. So as you can imagine, I am paying close attention to the things he has said.

Many of the passages in The Little Prince and in Wind, Sand, and Stars that have stood out in my reading of them have been included in this short book of quotes. Also, since I am borrowing Huntley’s copies of the books, I find that Huntley has also dog-eared the corners of the book in the same places. And I reflect back on an experience I had just recently, at the end of my cross-country drive just days before leaving on this cruise.

My friends and I ended up in Yosemite National Park near the border of California and Nevada and were surprised at what we found. Thinking that this park would be similar to the parks I have visited around the world, I was sure that we would find our own part of the park away from everyone else and be able to get off the beaten trail and do some hiking. As it turns out, thousands upon thousands of visitors enter the park each day. Not only this, but the park has several places where you can eat prepared food (including a huge grocery store), stay in resort hotels, and take tour busses throughout the park. We were even able to purchase gasoline inside the park (at the rate of $3.85/ gallon!).  This was not what I imagined of Yosemite.

What is more, the park is HUGE. We had no idea where to begin. And since we only had one day to visit as many parts of the park as we wanted we followed the handout that the rangers gave us and every other vehicle to enter the park that day. By the way NEVER give yourself one day for Yosemite, give yourself at least a week.

Those of you who know me well know that I would rather take the long way around a crowd, than to find myself mixed up in one. In Yosemite we did not have an option. We were part of the crowd everywhere we went. So we crawled our way up to Glacier Point, at the top of the park looking down upon Yosemite Valley, behind a long line of cars headed to the same place. Once there, we rushed out of the car excited about what we were going to see.

What we saw were hundreds of people standing around in the afternoon sun eating ice cream bars and taking pictures of each other with the valley in the background. But I forced myself to look beyond the people for a moment, and into the valley. What I saw was absolutely amazing. And of all of the mountain views I have seen in my life, this one was perhaps the most remarkable. I stood at the edge of a 2,000-foot ledge and looked down into the valley where cars moved like ants below us and thought about how special the moment was for me, regardless of how many other people were around.

Moments later, when the astonishment of the scenery had calmed a little inside of me, I took to watching other people enjoying the view. At some point during this time I had a revolutionary thought that I never thought myself capable of thinking before: Some things are great by their essence, and that is what draws people together around them. Crowds cannot take away the essence of something Beautiful. They may distract you from it, or ruin the “perfect photograph,” but the Beauty still remains beneath it all.

In Yosemite I was in a crowd of people all desiring to admire the Beauty of the park for whatever reason each of us had. For some, it was a checklist of things to do in the United States. For others, it was a weekend trip from the city. And for us, it was the realization of all of our effort in driving across the country in the week before. Whatever our reasons, we all shared the same awe and admiration for something that is truly spectacular in its essence.

In reading Antoine de Saint-Exupery, and any other author for that matter, and recognizing quotes from his stories in other places, I find myself comforted in the fact that others recognize the same Beautiful things that I do. So often I give up on humanity still appreciating the simple, Beautiful things in life. And when I experience Yosemite as I have, and read A Guide for Grown-Ups as I am now, it warms my heart and makes me optimistic for those of us who find Beauty in the simple things.

I have leant Huntley one of my favorite Hermann Hess books, Narcissus and Goldmund, and he has told me that he has the same experiences in reading it as I have had in reading his. Is this not the goal of any author, that his readers would find agreements among each other as to the Beauty of his prose? It is, for me, something that I strive for as I teach myself to write from all of the experiences I have gained thus far in life. Will people look back one day and find words that I have shared with them to have truly moved them to feel something? To do something? To be something?

“True freedom lies only in the creative process. The fisherman is free when he fishes according to his instinct. The sculptor is free when carving a face.”

Posted on

Chris Harvey, June 19, 2006

NOAA Teacher at Sea
Chris Harvey
Onboard NOAA Ship Oscar Elton Sette
June 5 – July 4, 2006

Mission: Lobster Survey
Geographical Area: Central Pacific Ocean, Hawaii
Date: June 19, 2006

Science and Technology Log 

We are back within eyesight of Necker Island, after spending the last few days fairly far off to the southeast. I have issues with backtracking when traveling. I remember returning to Dublin eleven days after I left it several years back. I hitchhiked around the entire country of Ireland, filling the time with wonderful tales of adventure and company I met along the way. And when I revisited Dublin in order to catch a flight to Brussels, the city remained the same- but I had changed.

Necker Island feels the same to me now as Dublin had then. Both were spectacular in their own respect. And both were markers in the timeline of Christopher Harvey’s life, in a sense that they both stirred his heart to the point that traveling has become as essential as breathing. Yet this time the waters around Necker Island are rough, clouds surround us here, and we are constantly plagued with the chance that we might get rain at any moment. This is just the physical change I have noticed.

Emotionally, I have been run through the ringer- having performed each job on the line, having conversation with many crew members that have allowed me to know them and myself better, having read many more words from books that have taken seed within my heart, and having survived a two-day cold (Thus the reason for no entry yesterday. I was sick in bed for 16 hours!) . I shouldn’t try to be any more poetic than any other person who has ever noted the effect of time on a soul, but I will because I cannot help myself:

“Time is the only factor that moves us, even when we don’t want to move. It brings us into hard times, and out of them all the same. It gives us the room to look back and laugh or cry at the things that we have done, and the hope to look forward to the good things ahead. It prods us. It changes us. It befriends us, even when we push It away. It is, and so we must be- with It or without It, Time moves on.”

I have made Time my friend on this cruise. Even though routine is wearing me thin- especially now that the sleep is not as good as it used to be- I find myself grateful for the time aboard the ship. I know that as soon as I step foot off of the Oscar Sette and venture into the world of Honolulu, I will look back on the sunsets I have seen here and be grateful for each of them. I will be sad to leave my new friends behind, though like always, they will remain with me in memories and email (for as long as distant friends can remain friends). I will be forced into a new world- exciting nonetheless- in which the only thing that remains constant in my life will be Time as my friend.

Hopefully we have all found some way to befriend Time. How many of us know how long she will be here with us? How many things have you thought of doing, “if only I had more time”? For me there are too many.

I have had conversations with Huntley, perhaps my closest crewmember friend on the ship, and his story has moved me to embrace the time I have. I hope to write about him so you too can know him better. But he is hard to write about. A friend once told me that the reason she never took a picture with me was because I was too dynamic for a still picture. I have carried those words in my heart, because some of us slow down to the point that a picture might capture our essence. Some of us become predictable. We become easily captured in a photograph. Huntley is one of those people who is too full of life to describe in words, though I will try sometime. He has given me great thoughts of the world out there- of the people that he and I are supposed to meet someday- and I cannot help but wonder if I am becoming inactive in my life. Am I settled down already? Will I read about Huntley’s adventures one day and tell everyone that I could have done the same, if only I had more time?

Amee received some of the best news a marine biologist/traveler could receive at 7 am today. She has been accepted into a program in which she will be working on a German research vessel in the waters surrounding Antarctica. While this may sound boring to some, I find it to be extremely fascinating. You may not know how hard it is to visit Antarctica, but it is not like traveling to Europe or South America. And as one of the seven continents that I have made it a goal to visit in my lifetime, Antarctica holds a special place in my heart. In Ushuaia, the southernmost city in the world, I had a dream of the mysterious continent. It was one of the most peaceful scenes I can recall- the stillness at the end of the world. I’ve asked Amee to take as many pictures as she can while she is there in hopes that one of her pictures might recapture this dream for me.

Will I make it to Antarctica someday? Should Time continue to be my friend, I imagine so. Will I take to the wind and wisp myself around the world? I cannot decide right now. What I do know is that we are midway through our cruise and Time is both an ally and an enemy to many of us. Many of the crewmembers have family back at port that they are anxious to see. Many have already been at sea for some 250 out of the past 365 days and just want a break from life at sea. Still others have plans of traveling the mainland and visiting friends and familiar places. Time seems an enemy to some- it keeps them from the things they have come to love the most. But I imagine they all have hearts for the sea- for what else could bring them out here but a love of the ocean, joy in the sunsets, and some sense of satisfaction that what they are doing here is what they are supposed to be doing with their lives.

We scientists are but transient visitors. We invade the space and privacy of those who make the Sette their home for two-thirds of the year. We often get in the way, or ask stupid questions, and sometimes even make faulty inferences based on our limited knowledge of life at sea. But we are doing our best to become family out here. And even if it seems that there might be conflict or drama evolving, we all recognize the need to remedy the problem immediately. My friends out here are good friends. We have to be. On July 4th we might become strangers again. That is the reality of life on shore. But life on the ship is different, and friends are either the easiest or the most difficult to come by.

I know that I said I would be observing the dynamics of individuals more than I have been. But it seems sometimes this task is a bit too much at times. And on the other end, the science of the ship is becoming routine. We rotate jobs each day, and the catch rate is remaining just about on par of what it has been in the past. We have not had any extraordinary days in terms of how our catch went. But as I have already mentioned, Time is doing some peculiar things to us out here- rather, Time is giving us the opportunity to do some peculiar things. Some fuses are growing shorter. Some fuses are remaining the same. No fuses seem to be growing longer. I sometimes feel unwelcome for I am a bit too honest about some things I have noticed. I have learned in life to be wary of passing judgment and I avoid doing this as much as possible. Still I haven’t figured out how to walk on water yet, unless I’m pulled behind a ski boat, and I know that I am probably contributing equally to the shortening of fuses as anyone else out here. We have fifteen more days at sea- as many left as we have put in already- and I wonder how they will go. Will we grow into better friends? Or will we tear away from each other and come in contact only when we have to? As the proverbial “They” say, “only Time will tell.”

Back to the classroom for a minute (I just gave myself the shivers in mentioning the word “classroom” while still early into my summer vacation!). The Hawaiian Islands are the result of what geologists call a “hot spot,” Essentially this is a pool of magma under the earth’s crust that is waiting to rise up wherever it can due to density differences between materials. Every now and then a crack will form in the crust, and this pool of magma is able to seep out.

To complicate matters, the Earth’s tectonic plates are geologically active, meaning that they are continuously moving in one direction or another. For instance, the Pacific plate, cradling the Pacific Ocean, is moving generally in the Northwest direction. Once upon a time, some millions of years ago, a hole opened up in the Pacific plate. As a result, this hot spot magma flowed through the crust and formed a series of undersea volcanoes. Over time the volcanoes built up and up and up until they broke the surface of the ocean. At this point we would call the volcano, and the exposed land around the volcano, an island.

Because the Pacific Plate is moving northwest and the hot spot remains stationary underneath the crust, as the Pacific Plate moves, a series of volcanoes form over the hot spot. Over time these volcanoes form what geologists call “island arcs.” In the case of the Hawaiian Islands, those islands farthest from the hot spot are the ones farthest northwest. The newer islands are closer to the hot spot, which is currently located near the Big Island, or Hawaii. I say “near” because there is a new island in the making that is slightly southeast from Hawaii. However, the island of Hawaii is still very active.

Necker Island is one of the older volcanic islands, believed to at one point been made up of two cone volcanoes. What has happened to Necker Island over time is that its weight has actually pushed the island further and further below sea level. When I first arrived I was very surprised to find that Necker Island was more of a “rock” than an “island.” But looking at nautical charts of the depths around Necker Island, where we have been doing all of our lobster trapping, it is very easy to see the borders of what used to be a rather large island. We are dropping traps in about 15 fathoms of water (15 times 6 feet), and almost immediately to the other side of the ship where we drop traps the water drops down in some cases to about 1,365 fathoms (1,365 times 6 feet)! I wish that I could attach a topographic map of the island and the waters around the island, but without Internet on the ship it is hard to find.

Eventually Necker Island will do what the islands to the northwest are doing, and it will completely sink down into the sea. When this happens it will be called a “seamount” and will be subject to erosion by the oceans currents. Literally, mountains are tumbling to the sea. Kind of cool huh!

Posted on

Chris Harvey, June 17, 2006

NOAA Teacher at Sea
Chris Harvey
Onboard NOAA Ship Oscar Elton Sette
June 5 – July 4, 2006

Mission: Lobster Survey
Geographical Area: Central Pacific Ocean, Hawaii
Date: June 17, 2006

Science and Technology Log  

I just woke up from a wonderful 2-hour nap, reminding myself of something I have meant to write about for days but have forgotten. Since the swells have come along, the ship bounces around quiet a bit at night, making sleep difficult if not entirely impossible at times. So I have modified my sleeping patterns somewhat to adjust to the situation.

I take a short nap immediately after work, whether at 1:30 or at 6:30 (short to me is anywhere between 1-3 hours). This is the only sleep that I can guarantee myself that day, so I cherish the fact that my stateroom has no windows and thus can become completely dark and the fact that after work I know I will be entirely exhausted. (I think back now to how excited I was on my first night into Honolulu when Bob told me I would be working, not observing. What a fool I was!) I usually wake up just in time for a quick bite for dinner and then I make my way outside to enjoy the last remaining hours of daylight. Once the sun has set, I either take my laptop up to the bridge and sit out on the side deck where there is no obstruction to the star-filled sky, or I return inside and write if the clouds cover up the stars. Either way, I have been spending a good but of my time in writing inspired by the scenery around me. I write until I am once again completely exhausted (the only guarantee for sleep), which is usually around 11:30 or midnight, and I head back to bed for a few hours until it is time to get up for work again.

Having just awakened from my nap, I have a whole new day in front of me- one that requires no work from me! So I will begin this new day by telling you about a book I have just finished reading upon the recommendation of Huntley, a well-read traveler. I do this because nothing much happened today worth describing- although it has been confirmed that the NWHI are now the largest marine sanctuary in the United States, and that our mission is not so much invalidated, but will be used for other purposes. NOAA will still be in charge of the area on the federal level, so our data on lobster catch will take on meaning in a different way. Also, Amee said, “please” today for the first time on the cruise. So my inferences are correct, she is not of royal English ancestry. Go figure!

Back to “The Little Prince.” If you can read French, buy the book in French. I am sure that a lot of meaning is “lost in translation” (which is also a good movie by the way). But if you are like me, an English-only reader, then you can still enjoy the book for its simplicity. The author, Antoine de Saint- Exupery, speaks to us as an adult who encourages us to keep a child’s perspective in life for all of the naiveté and simplicity doing so would retain. It would not surprise many of you to know this is a chief goal of mine (inherited through my Peter Pan of a father, to the chagrin of my mother! Thanks Dad!), though I often try to imitate the wisdom of the sage- making a wonderful fool of myself in the long run. By the end of the story I was left with moistened eyes (tears fall infrequently from my eyes), and the feeling that it was time to create Something Beautiful.

So I am in attempts now to create the first of (hopefully) many Beautiful things in my life. I have an idea for a children’s story that came to me suddenly, with such great passion that I probably irritated Bob by my slowness in work today. I tried clinging to each new thought I had, as if it were my last, in hopes that each thought that came my way was some integral piece of that Something Beautiful (Incidentally, the story has a working title of “Something Beautiful.”) As it turns out, in looking back after a refreshing nap, the thoughts I have recorded do not seem as full of potential as they did before. But maybe that is because the stars are still waiting for someone to turn out the light tonight, so they can have their way with my heart. On the surface, I am still a scientist/resident Teacher At Sea with scientific obligations to achieve. But in my heart, I am a man on a journey to become the artist he believes himself to be, willing to take in every experience as a piece of the story that will mean the most to him- the Story of His Life.

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

– The Fox from “The Little Prince”