Mary Cook, January 2, 2005

NOAA Teacher at Sea
Mary Cook
Onboard NOAA Ship Ronald H. Brown
December 5, 2004 – January 7, 2005

Mission: Climate Prediction for the Americas
Geographical Area: Chilean Coast
Date: January 2, 2005

Location: Latitude 41°47.12’S, Longitude 73°33.42’W
Time: 0830

Weather Data from the Bridge
Air Pressure (millibars) 1012.81
Relative Humidity (percent) 93.61
Wind Direction (degrees) 354.55
Wind Speed (knots) 7.03
Air Temperature (Celsius) 14.46
Water Temperature (Celsius) 11.62
Sunrise 0624
Sunset 2132

Question of the Day

What is a fjord?

Quote of the Day

“Withhold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of thine hand to do it.” King Solomon

Science Log

It’s raining! I haven’t seen rain since last year. The sky is thick with dark, billowing clouds and gray mist. Occasionally a patch of bright blue breaks through. But it only takes a few minutes until it’s eclipsed by a rain cloud. The land on both sides of the channel is shrouded in the mist and looks mysteriously enchanting. Only a few people onboard have ever been this way before and everyone is excited. Even these salty sailors are energized. Seals are popping up and playing all around. It looks like they’re chasing each other. We’ve passed a couple of small fishing villages and there are some ferryboats in the channel. The Chilean pilot told me that we’re in a very interesting place because of the strong current. Our ship is traveling against a three knot current at this time and they’ve brought more engines online just in case we need them. He said the current can get as high as eight knots! I heard Captain Wright say that the last time he was through here the ship was going with the current and traveling at 21 knots!

Bruce, the boatswain is now on constant anchor alert. There are many potential hazards when traveling the narrow channels so all hands must be prepared for anything.

I’ve been standing outside in a sheltered place under the ladderways for about an hour. At first it didn’t seem cold but as time went by I felt the chilly dampness in my muscles and had to zip up my jacket and put on my hood.

Something I’ve learned about this ship is that even when the scientists aren’t actively conducting research projects, science is always going on aboard the RONALD H. BROWN. At the top of every hour they always record the weather data, which includes about 50 entries, and then send it in to the National Weather Service every six hours. If the ship is within 200 miles of the coast of the United States or Canada or within 300 miles of a named tropical storm or hurricane they report every three hours. They record the ship’s location and speed, plus wind factors, temperatures, pressure, clouds, precipitation, wave size and directions, swells, and presence of ice. It seems to me that everything is written in code. They have the “Ship’s Synoptic Code Ready Reference” lying nearby and make use of it when filling out the charts. This information is entered into the National Weather Service computers and used for weather forecasting.

Personal Log

There’s a festive atmosphere throughout the entire ship. Everyone’s smiling and walking with a little extra spring in their step. These seasoned sailors are like little kids on Christmas morning, their eyes sparkling with anticipation. They’re out on the deck with their binoculars looking over the pastoral scenes of green rolling hills dotted with colorful houses and farms and churches connected by winding dirt roads. One of them said, “Just give me ten acres with a little house and I could settle down and live right here.” Several nodded in agreement. Then they spotted the big snow-capped mountains in the distance! Their dreams of settling down seemed to evaporate into thin air as their attention had been captured by the majestic and forbidding.

Our course is taking us through the Gulf of Corcovado and we’re just now passing the volcanic mountain for which the gulf is named. The pointy, snow-capped mountain is Mt. Corcovado and it stands 2300 meters in elevation which is about 7000 feet high.

The water is so smooth in this gulf that I can barely tell the ship is moving. It’s great! Seasickness is but a distance memory.

Officer Ayers just told me that I missed a fabulous display of bioluminescence last night about 0200. I said that I’d just stay up all night tonight so I could see that for myself. Then watch-stander Melton says, “Oh, now you want to be awake and out at 0600 tomorrow because we’ll be entering an extremely narrow channel. You can’t be sleeping through that.”

Decisions. Decisions.

Whales on the starboard bow! I ran out and saw three waterspouts and one tail. Pretty cool.

Tomorrow, my students and co-workers will be returning to school from their Christmas break. I hope they’ve all had a good vacation and come back with renewed energy and smiles. I can’t help thinking about them and wishing they could be out here in this never-ending, ever-unfolding story of exploration.

Until tomorrow,

Mary

Mary Cook, December 30, 2004

NOAA Teacher at Sea
Mary Cook
Onboard NOAA Ship Ronald H. Brown
December 5, 2004 – January 7, 2005

Mission: Climate Prediction for the Americas
Geographical Area: Chilean Coast
Date: December 30, 2004

Location: Latitude 36°21.31’S, Longitude 72°59.65’W
Time: 9:15

Weather Data from the Bridge
Air Temperature (Celsius) 14.33
Water Temperature (Celsius) 14.81
Air Pressure (millibars) 1015.24
Cloud Cover 3/8
Cloud Type: Stratus
Wind Direction (degrees) 325.6
True Wind Speed (knots) 1.26
Sunrise 636
Sunset 2112

Question of the Day

What is a light year?

Positive Quote of the Day

“The influence of each human being on others in this life is a kind of immortality.” John Quincy Adams

Science Log

Last night I went up to the bridge at about 2300 hours. Vickie, Jeff, and Jackie were stargazing in search of the Southern Cross. There it was, almost directly in front of the ship! It had just risen over the horizon and looked more like a baseball diamond than a cross. We also spotted Alpha and Beta Centauri. At about 4.3 light years away, these are among the closest stars to Earth other than our Sun. Vickie also pointed out Orion with his belt of stars and the seven sisters called Pleiades. I’m going to get out my textbook and read up on the Magellanic Clouds because I’m wondering if we can see those from here. Then Jackie looked over the edge of the ship in the wake and caught a glimpse of some momentary flashes of light! Bioluminescence! I stood there pressing my face against the window staring at the darkened waters waiting patiently for some more microorganisms to glow. Sure enough it happened. They looked like little sparks of lightening in a cloud. It happened several times. I’ll definitely be back on the bridge again in search of more wonders of the sea at night.

For this leg of the journey, I’ve been moved to a different stateroom. I’m now down below in the science quarters. The sounds are different down here. I can hear the water splashing up against the ship’s hull. It sounds like I’m in a perpetual carwash!

It’s a soothing sound, though. I slept like a bear in hibernation.

Today begins the science operations. Right now, the scientists are on the fantail preparing the drifting sediment trap with its radar-reflector, floaters and nighttime strobe light. We’ll deploy the instrument then leave it while we make a short transit to the next station for CTD casts and core sampling. Afterwards, we’ll return and retrieve the sediment trap. According to the work plan, we’ll do this same thing at six different locations across the continental shelf and slope off Concepción, Chile. Most of the CTD casts are in fairly shallow water with the deepest one going down to 980 meters. These scientists will be working 48 hours non-stop.

It’s beautiful here in the Bay of Concepción. The water is so smooth and glistening in the sunshine. We’re nearly surrounded by a crescent-shaped coastline and we can see houses, forests, and other ships. This afternoon, we saw several ghostly-white jellyfish pumping their way through the water. Jim pointed out little anchovies swimming nearby. Yum!

I spoke with Kevin Sullivan of the NOAA research branch in Miami and Jordan Watson from the Scripps Institution of Oceanography. They patiently explained some of the science to me. And I really appreciate that.

This is how the drifting sediment trap works. After the instrument collects the sediments from the water near the surface and is retrieved, it will be set aside for a few hours to allow the sediments to settle to the bottom of the tubes. Then a lever is turned that empties the sediments into bottles containing a preservative. Sediments can be particles from the air like dust or particles from the ocean such as little deceased sea creatures called diatoms.

The Rhumor gravity core sampler is basically a one meter long hollow tube with heavy weights attached to the top. After being lifted by the winch, it is slowly lowered into the water. When the tube gets about 10 meters from the ocean floor it is lowered very quickly and gravity rams it into the mud. In this process, the mud layers fill the hollow tube and as the core sampler is raised the pressure closes a valve that keeps the mud from coming out.

I’ve noticed on the SeaBeam readout that the depth here is only about 100 meters. That’s a huge contrast to a couple of weeks ago when we were in waters with a depth of 5000 meters!

It is my understanding that the rationale for their research is to explore the effects of nitrogen distribution and how that affects the marine algae nutrient usage in the present day water column. They are conducting the sampling in this location because of the upwelling that occurs which brings nutrients to the surface and because there are algae present that utilize the nutrients in these upwelling plumes. Likewise, they are interested in evaluating the amount of nitrogen left in the sedimentary record. This will help scientists better understand the history of the oceans.

Personal Log

Today has been a quiet but interesting day. All the science was new to me so I had to pay attention and ask lots of questions. It’s very rewarding to have people around who are eager to share with me what they are doing and the significance of it all in the whole scheme of things. I’ve learned a tremendous lot and my brain is kind of tired. Plus, I miss my mentor. She’s got enough energy for two people! I did take some time to go to the ship’s bow and watch the water skim by and look around for animals. I saw lots of birds and jellyfish. I like watching jellyfish because I never see jellyfish in Arkansas. To me they are intriguing critters because they are transparent. I can see right through them!

Well, I’m headed for the exercise room to rest my brain and work off that cake with chocolate icing that I ate for dessert. Then, after dark, up to the bridge for more stargazing in the Southern Hemisphere!

Until tomorrow,

Mary

p.s. Congratulations Brandon and Becky!

Diane Stanitski: Day 14, August 24, 2002

NOAA Teacher at Sea

Diane Stanitski

Aboard NOAA Ship Ka’imimoana

August 16-30, 2002

Day 14: Saturday, August 24, 2002

The FOO’s quote of the day: 

“I believe because it is impossible.” – Tertullian

Weather log:
Here are our observations at 0900 today:
Latitude: 4°40.8’N
Longitude: 139°58.7’W
Visibility: 12 nautical miles (nm)
Wind direction: 180° (constantly shifting)
Wind speed: 16 kts
Sea wave height: 3-4′
Swell wave height: 5-7′
Sea water temperature: 27.7°C
Sea level pressure: 1011.3 mb
Cloud cover: 7/8, Cumulus, Stratocumulus

Science Log:

Another buoy was repaired this morning because its anemometer wasn’t functioning. The anemometer is the highest object on the buoy and, therefore, is the most vulnerable. Because it’s not as protected and is a moving part, it can be easily damaged by people fishing the area, or by extreme weather. Dave was out on the buoy sitting in the horseshoe (a square opening on the starboard side of the buoy deck permitting you to work on the bottom of the buoy from the deck below) today testing and preparing it for deployment tomorrow. This will be our first buoy replacement, which means that when we retrieve the next buoy there will be oodles of work to do on the ship, including counting the thousands of barnacles that have attached themselves to the bottom of the brace. I can’t wait to smell the deck after they’re removed from the bottom – mm, mm!

On the agenda today is a full tour of the ship. John taped me both inside and outside explaining every part of the ship as we walked from deck to deck and bow to stern. I learned so much through that process. John first explained what we were looking at and then I provided my version as I tried to incorporate the technical terms. We also prepared some fun clips interviewing people about what they do on board.

Despite volunteering to do a CTD launch at 3°N tonight at 1930, the device wasn’t working. The 0130 reading at 2.5°N tomorrow morning was also cancelled because Larry and Jason need to switch out a major part that is malfunctioning. It will soon be time to rise and shine for a buoy retrieval (my first!) and deployment.

Personal Log:

I awoke this morning to sunshine streaming through our porthole. This is an unusual occurrence since it has been so cloudy. I walked outside and smelled FISH! The guys had pulled in the tow lines and they caught 4 gorgeous silvery mahi mahi fish, one over 20 lbs. When I went downstairs, they were filleting them in the kitchen for lunch and hopefully dinner! Wow! This is what I call fresh. They found tuna in one of the stomachs of the largest mahi mahi. I’ll have to make sure that I’m around when they pull in the next group.

Lobo, the Chief Engineer on board the ship, provided John, Takeshi (scientist from France), and me with a tour of the engine room this afternoon. The most fascinating thing to me is how fresh water is produced on the ship. We use approximately 3,000 gallons of fresh water per day, which means that we are each allotted about 100 gallons. This is plenty per person. The majority of the water is used for the CTD cast because fresh water has to be used to spray down the winch, wire, and cylinders after they are brought out of the water (see photo log for picture), and also for cooking and laundry. It is an extremely comfortable ship. The CO was saying today at lunch that the main halls are much wider than many ships and the staterooms are also more roomy. I was surprised at how decadent my room seems to be. Check out the photo log for a picture of my stateroom.

It is hard to believe how close we are to the equator. We continue moving southward along 140°W. I’m getting a little bit nervous about the fact that there are at least 6 people who have never crossed the equator before in a boat/ship. This means that we are called pollywogs. If time permits, there might be a ceremony at the crossing for all first timers, after which you become shellbacks. It’s not quite that easy, though. There is a certain amount of harassment (all in fun, of course) that must first take place to ensure that the wogs EARN the right to cross. Rumors are spreading that something might happen soon. I’ll keep you updated.

You would not have believed the bioluminescence in the water tonight! Kirby and Don spotted it first and suggested that I go up to the bow to peer over the edge at the bottom of the bow as it plows through the water. The phytoplankton become disturbed, which causes them to glow. There are often patches or clumps of these species that are visible making them look like a glow stick in the water. We may have also seen some jellyfish glowing, but only because they’ve eaten the bioluminescent phytoplankton. It’s so interesting. I love hanging my arms over the railing of the bow watching it carve out the water far below.

The sunset and moon rise were incredible tonight. The sun’s rays continued to light up the sky for about an hour after the sun actually set. The colors of light blue growing into bright pink were beautiful. We also had low cumulus clouds far beneath high cirrus clouds that turned pink. It was a spectacular scene (see photo log). I wish that I could have captured the moon rise over the ocean. It looked HUGE and was bright orange. There were thin clouds in the foreground that created an eerie, yet beautiful glow. The moon is almost full and illuminates the ocean surface like a huge flashlight. The Milky Way is in full view and the constellations are brilliant. We were looking for the Southern Cross tonight and think that we may have spotted it. Aaaahhhh!

I’ll write more tomorrow.
Diane