I spent my last hour aboard NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson very much the same as I did when I started: On the bridge watching the the NOAA Corp Officers maneuver the ship around the pier.
NOAA corp officers working together to dock the ship
As my time aboard the NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson comes to an end, I find myself looking out over the Great Lakes one last time, reflecting on an incredible two weeks at sea. I’ve enjoyed so much of what I’ve experienced and I’ve learned even more. Over the past two weeks, I have had the privilege of stepping into the daily workflows of many of the departments that keep this floating laboratory operational.
In hydrographic surveying and science, I learned about the how the survey team operates the multibeam and side-scan SONAR, tracks lakebed topography, deploys the Moving Vessel Profiler (MVP) to measure sound speed through water columns, and processes bathymetry data to identify navigational hazards. Up on the bridge and aboard survey launches, I observed the seamless coordination of the NOAA Corps officers as they safely navigated tight survey grids and executed precision small boat operations. Down in the engine room and ship’s workshop, I saw firsthand how engineers and oilers maintain complex mechanical systems, monitor power generation, and custom-fabricate hardware to support the ship’s operations. Meanwhile in the galley, I learned what it takes for the steward department to feed the entire crew.
Above all, I experienced a culture of trust where every voice matters. Everyone continuously strives to do better, whether mastering ship and small boat handling or expanding their scientific knowledge.
Personal Log
With the start of the school year starting tomorrow, my excitement is shifting from the open water back to my physics classroom. I cannot wait to meet my new students and introduce them to everything I’ve learned during this journey.
So much of what happens aboard NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson is physics in action—from sound propagation in water and wave mechanics to vector navigation, data processing, and engineering design. Being able to bring real-world NOAA data, live video clips, and genuine stories of STEM careers into our lessons will give our coursework a direct line to the real world.
More than the technical concepts, I am eager to model the collaborative, trust-based environment I witnessed onboard. I want my students to see that asking questions, checking each other’s work, and learning from mistakes aren’t just classroom goals—they are the exact habits practiced daily by professional scientists and mariners at sea.
This expedition through the NOAA Teacher at Sea Program has been an unforgettable experience. To the officers, survey technicians, engineers, and crew of the NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson: thank you for welcoming me into your community, answering my endless questions, and showing me what true teamwork looks like.
The sunset on my last evening aboard NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson
Did You Know?
Late one night during our mission, I stayed awake to witness a near-total lunar eclipse—when the Earth moves directly between the Sun and the Moon. From my vantage point, as well as back home, the eclipse reached about 96% coverage. For nearly two hours leading up to peak coverage, we found ourselves dodging the only rain cloud in the sky, though I still managed to capture photos at the start and just after maximum coverage.
At the very beginning of the lunar eclipse at about 10:30 p.m.
Today, I had the incredible experience of going out on one of the survey launches with Hydrographic Survey Tech Haley Kenyon and Ensign James Hutzenbiler to run side-scan sonar. We rely on these smaller boats particularly when the water becomes too shallow for NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson to maneuver safely or when we are working in areas where the depths are completely unknown.
Aboard the small boat and ready for the day!
Once underway, Ensign Hutzenbiler and Haley navigated our assigned lines with incredible efficiency.
ENS Hutzenbiler drives the launch
When we ran into an issue with our POS (Position and Orientation System) data, Haley had Ensign Hutzenbiler hold position while she stepped out to secure an antenna connection with electrical tape.
Survey Tech Haley Kenyon secures the antenna
When the glitch popped up again later, a full system reboot got us back online for the rest of the day. The ingenuity, calm troubleshooting, and seamless teamwork on that small launch were inspiring—and together, they logged over 70 nautical miles of high-quality bathymetric data.
software displaying survey lines
View of NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson from the launch vessel as we return to the ship
Personal Log
Before we even stepped foot on the launch, we went through a comprehensive risk assessment using a GAR (Green-Amber-Red) model.
The colors represent our overall risk score:
Green (0–23): Low risk; proceed with standard precautions.
Amber (24–44): Moderate risk; requires consultation with the Executive Officer (XO) and crew to implement specific risk mitigations.
Red (45-60): High risk; the launch does not deploy unless risks can be successfully mitigated to lower the score.
Float Plan, including the GAR risk assessment, for launch vessel 2904
The GAR sheet is led by the coxswain—the officer in charge of the vessel—but it is a collaborative discussion. Once our mission for the day is outlined, the entire crew reviews every safety factor together.
The pre-launch small boat meeting
For my trip, the lake was calm and the mission was straightforward. I bumped our “Mission Complexity” score up slightly because it was my first time on the launch, meaning the team had to account for extra safety oversight for a newcomer. When weather conditions worsen—like on a day another crew faced choppy waters—the risk may elevate to Amber. If the risk does rise to Amber, they thoroughly map out contingency plans—including designated safe-harbor ports along their route if conditions deteriorate. Thanks to that preparation, everyone is able to execute their missions and return safely. What impressed me most about the GAR process is its culture of open safety. If anyone—regardless of rank, role, or whether they are actually going on the boat—feels a risk factor is underestimated, they have the authority to raise the score. Crucially, a score can never be voted down by someone else; it can only be raised. Knowing that safety is actively evaluated from every angle made me feel completely confident heading out on the water.
That culture of psychological safety, open communication, and continuous learning is something I am eager to bring back to my physics classroom. My students spend a lot of time collaborating in lab teams, and I want to find a way to create an environment where every student feels just as empowered to speak up—whether it’s pointing out a safety oversight or double-checking a peer’s lab setup or providing feedback on solving a problem. I already model this by encouraging students to call out my own errors, but seeing how seamlessly the crew on Thomas Jefferson prioritizes collective growth has me reflecting on how I can cultivate that same deep trust in my classroom right from the start of the school year.
Did You Know?
Port is the left side of a ship or boat while starboard is the right side when facing the front (bow) of the ship as shown in the image below:
The port side of the boat is named so because that is the side of the boat that was traditionally tied up to the dock or port, opposite to the steering or steer board, “starboard.” https://oceanservice.noaa.gov/facts/port-starboard.html.
One of the crewmembers told me that to remember port and starboard to always remember that port has four letters in it and so does left, so they are on the same side of the boat.
The science, travel, and community that make life aboard NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson possible rely on the team hard at work in the galley. The cooks in the steward department serve a hot breakfast every morning at 7:00 a.m., offering eggs to order, pancakes or waffles, bacon, turkey bacon, sausage, and grits or oatmeal, along with fruit and a variety of sauces.
Some of the Steward Department serving breakfast.
At 11:00 a.m., they serve a wide array of lunch options. Tuesdays are usually Taco Tuesday—a crew favorite—though the menu varies based on what Chief Steward Danni Cuff creates. She posts the weekly menu in advance so everyone knows what to expect. This also allows crew members to request a plate to be saved if they are working on the small boats or on shift outside galley hours.
The menu for this week.
Dinner is served at 4:30 p.m. Last week featured a surf-and-turf dinner with crab legs and steak. It was my first time trying crab legs, and I have to say, I prefer them over lobster.
Surf and turf dinner
For dessert tonight, I joined the Chief Steward in the galley to help make and decorate a white cake. Before we frosted it, she gave me some pointers on piping practice. Since she couldn’t find the exact piping tip she wanted, she also showed me how to cut a pastry bag to create one from scratch.
Danni frosting the cake served for the evening dessert
A white cake with strawberries that was served for dessert about NOAA ship Thomas Jefferson.
The Chief Steward’s role extends far beyond baking. She manages her department and ensures her team receives professional development while in port; one of her crew members will soon attend training at The Culinary Institute of America.
In addition to staff management, Danni oversees inventory and supply ordering for each leg of the voyage. She is currently developing an automated inventory system designed to generate supply orders and vendor lists based on planned menus and upcoming crew counts.
Personal Log
Before embarking on this leg aboard NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson, one of my biggest worries was the menu. I don’t typically care for seafood and have actively avoided it in the past, so I even reached out to a past Teacher at Sea participant to ask about the food. It turned out to be a total non-issue for three reasons: 1. Danni consistently provides multiple lunch and dinner choices (as seen on the weekly menu), alongside a fully stocked salad bar and sandwich station; 2. She takes great care with dietary restrictions and allergies. With so many options available, personal preferences are naturally accommodated as well; and 3. I’ve actually found myself reaching for seafood intentionally. Danni has prepared my favorite—catfish—both grilled and fried, and served dishes I had never tried before, like pollock and crab legs. Looking at menus from previous months, I noticed even more local, sustainably sourced species I would love to try.
Danni puts incredible thought, care, and effort into her work, and everyone aboard NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson deeply appreciates her dedication—and her delicious meals.
Did You Know?
A waterspout is a spinning, funnel-shaped column of air and water mist that forms over a large body of water. At the end of the day that I spent with Danni, we saw a waterspout off of the side of the ship.
I spent the overnight shift with Hydrographic senior survey technician Emily Madish tonight. Her shift starts at 3:30 p.m. and goes until 3:30 a.m. She worked with two other crew members in the survey room: Operations Officer Jessie Spruill and Hydrographic Survey Tech Hannah Hernandez. There were more members of the crew on the deck navigating the ship through the dark waters.
Emily keeping track of the ship and the data coming in
I took the opportunity of the quiet evening and having fewer people around to have Emily walk me through the process for collecting data on NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson and to explain how the scientific equipment on the ship works to collect depth data.
Hydrographic surveys make use of a variety of fundamental physics concepts. One of them is how sound travels. Sound travels at a constant speed through a medium (a material like water or air) unless the properties of the medium change. In lake or ocean water, properties that could change the speed are the salinity, temperature, and depth. Thomas Jefferson accounts for these possible changes by collecting that information using the Moving Vessel Profiler (MVP) and collecting that data approximately every hour so that the data collected by the ship can use the most accurate information to create the depth profiles.
This is the graph the MVP software displays, collects, and transfers to other software that works in conjunction with the MVP. This is one of the casts taken from Thomas Jefferson
Once the speed of sound in the area has been collected, the time it takes for the sound to go to the bottom of the seafloor (or in this case lakebed) is collected. From there, the depth of the seafloor can be calculated using the equation:
To solve for depth, it becomes
However, the time included at this point includes both the time leaving the ship and going to the seafloor and back again, which can be visualized like this:
To account for the reflection, the time that is collected is cut in half and the new equation becomes:
(Note: hydrographers use different letters to represent these variables, but I’m keeping everything in notation my high school students are or will be familiar with. They mean the same thing.)
Now, this seems relatively straight forward so far. However, what is really cool is that the ship is not taking just one sounding (depth measurement). Instead, the ship is sending out SONAR in a fan shape using a multibeam or side scan, which can be visualized as follows:
Typical geometry of bottom tracking multibeam sonar. Image from Mayer, Larry & Li, Yanchao & Melvin, Gary. (2002). 3D visualization for pelagic fisheries research and assessment. ICES Journal of Marine Science – ICES Journal of Marine Science. 59. 216-225. (ResearchGate)
This allows not only the various depths of the sea floor to be collected, but because many (MANY) soundings are taken at once, the soundings can also translate into images and an image of the seafloor can be created. In addition to an image of the seafloor, it is also possible to find out if there are any hazards to shipping or features on the seafloor. For example, in Lake Erie on the last leg of the mission a lot of shipwrecks were seen, and while there haven’t been any shipwrecks found on my leg as far I know, some features of the lakebed, like glacial scarring may have been seen, along with a lot of rocks. A lot of rocks.
The path of the ship (yellow and green, this also shows the depth of the area as well) and an initial image of the seafloor.Notice in the black and white image the possible glacial scarring that can be seen).
It is also possible to see schools of fish in the water column or capture an image of a whale with the multibeam or sidescan.
A picture of a side scan that shows a whale that is displayed on Thomas Jefferson
To get to the point of creating an image and having the image accurately represent the location of where the data was taken to create a meaningful map, while also correcting the data for errors and the motion of the ship requires many steps.
First, the Seafloor Information System collects real time depth data being collected by the multibeam sonar, while HYSWEEP communicates with the bridge. Those in survey use HYPACK to make planned survey lines, and those on the bridge use HYSWEEP and follow those lines. The bridge and the survey team are in constant communication while this process is ongoing.
The path as shown in HYSWEEP that both the bridge and the survey team can see
Thomas Jefferson travels back and forth like someone mowing their yard with long back and forth lines that overlap by about 20% to make sure that no areas are missed.
This is the second swath the ship makes as it goes past the same location as the image above with the glacial scarring
The ship also collects what is called crosslines, which must be collected for every 4% or 8% of the lines collected that are parallel to each other, depending on the spacing between the lines, to make sure that the data remains reliable. It is possible the parallel lines could be offset from each other and the crosslines ensure that they are not.
An entire sheet that shows where data was collected including crosslines (the diagonal lines) and the lines parallel to each other
Once the data is collected, the data from GNSS including GPS and information from other satellites is collated with the ship’s depth data. This involves a lot of additional software that ensures the accuracy and fidelity of the information being collected.
After everything has been processed, it is sent to NOAA for further integration into the maps that allow ships navigating the waters carrying people and goods across the Great Lakes stay safe. Progress on the Great Lakes project and other hydrographic survey projects can be found at: https://storymaps.arcgis.com/collections/855b7102bd0d42d6974c41fa4f8829b9?item=5
Personal Log
It’s fascinating to notice how life aboard the ship mirrors research experiences I’ve had elsewhere. During my undergraduate and graduate work, I spent night shifts at Brookhaven National Laboratory and Argonne National Laboratory running experiments at the synchrotrons. The late hours aboard the ship feel remarkably similar.
Night shifts have a distinct stillness. Instead of the busy daytime chatter and people moving about, the ship settles into a steady rhythm defined by the deep hum of instrumentation and running equipment. Monitors glow with data software, and as the end of the shift approaches, fatigue sets in—making it just a little easier to make a minor mistake (though usually the mistakes are fixable). Sometimes it even feels like the software itself gets tired of being up that late and starts acting up. But through it all, really cool data is collected despite anything else that happens.
Did You Know?
NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson is sent out after natural disasters like hurricanes, to help ships enter and exit ports. The ship helps make certain that there are not any dangers to ships from the disaster, so that rescue, shipping, and reconstruction after the disaster can proceed.
Today was jam-packed with preparation, community, and reflection. I was struck not only by how meticulously everyone prepares for emergencies, but also by the crew’s thoughtful debriefs. They continuously strive for operational perfection, yet never at the expense of appreciating a job well done.
We began the morning with shipboard safety briefings. At sea, addressing a fire quickly is paramount. Everyone has a designated duty and muster station. On land, the standard advice for a building fire is to evacuate immediately—even if it’s small. However, as the Executive Officer (XO) and crew emphasized, if you spot a small fire aboard ship, the best immediate action is to grab an extinguisher and put it out. The reason for this stark difference is simple: on open water, help is miles away. An uncontrolled fire endangers the entire vessel, forcing an abandon-ship scenario that carries far greater risk than tackling a localized flame right away.
There were two new members of the crew besides me. They were assigned to firefighter roles and we went through the process of getting them gear and setting it up so that they could just hop into it if they needed to use it.
New crewmembers trying on firefighting gear
Should the call to abandon ship ever be given, comprehensive protocols are already in place. Everyone gathers their immersion suits and proceeds to the lifeboats. Each lifeboat holds up to 20 people. With roughly 30 personnel currently aboard the Thomas Jefferson and several lifeboats available, there is more than enough capacity for everyone.
From safety drills, we transitioned to the Leg Operations Brief, led by Operations Officer Mark Meadows. This meeting serves a dual purpose: preparing for the upcoming leg while reflecting on the previous one. Because personnel rotate frequently—some staying for multiple legs, others returning home or arriving from across the country—a structured presentation ensures a seamless transition. The team openly analyzes both the strengths and challenges of the prior leg to set up the incoming crew for success.
Next was a technical discussion on Pulse Per Second (PPS), a concept directly applicable to the data-collection software used on board. Operations Officer Meadows provided a thorough explanation, highlighting why understanding the mechanics behind our equipment (and its software) is crucial for real-time operational adjustments.
Operations Officer Meadows presenting on the previous leg of the mission
The software generates a pulse display similar to the diagram below:
Example of a 1 pulse per second signal generated by a GPS receiver. Photo from Codrey Electronics.
The time from the leading edge of one pulse to the leading edge of the next is exactly 1 second. Meanwhile, the duration between the leading edge and the trailing edge of a single pulse is approximately 1 millisecond (ms). This subtle nuance means it is remarkably easy for data collection to end up off by a millisecond. In many contexts, that tiny margin is negligible; in high-precision hydrography, it matters. Recognizing how the software handles these signals allows the team to correct data post-collection if needed. It reminded me of a favorite lesson from my own high school physics teacher: Always understand how your equipment works so you know how to troubleshoot it when it doesn’t.
After the briefings wrapped up, it was time to get underway! This was the moment my physics-teacher heart sang. It’s rare to see a fundamental physics concept demonstrated so dynamically in real life.
The separation from the dock and part of the maneuvering into open water
The course Thomas Jefferson plotted after maneuvering away from the pier
The deck crew expertly maneuvered the ship away from the dock, accounting for wind force, current, and the thrust vectors of the ship’s engines. It was a beautiful, real-world ballet of vector addition—one that my students would be relieved they didn’t have to calculate on paper! The crew handled the separation from the dock and navigation around the pier with effortless precision.
Deck crew of NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson as they maneuver the ship out from port
Once we reached open water, the crew gathered for what the XO fondly called “Story Time”—a post-maneuver debrief. Once again, they analyzed what went smoothly and what could be refined. They praised the steady speed and smooth handling, while constructively noting that higher communication volume over the radio would make it easier for everyone to follow along. Both praise and critique were taken to heart. Because the Thomas Jefferson will be navigating this same harbor all season, the pursuit of perfection is an ongoing goal—but everyone acknowledged that the crew’s skill today was exceptional.
Personal Log
Trying on the immersion suit was pretty hilarious. I unrolled it in my stateroom and then I had to read the directions. Are you supposed to keep your shoes on? Yes, and luckily, it says so on the instructions on the outside of the packaging. I was able to get into it ok, and then I kind of flopped upstairs so I could get help with getting a picture. I also realized that in a real emergency, I will need some help zipping it up because the zipper is very hard to slide. I’ll have to practice that some more. The worst part though, was taking it off and then rolling it up and putting it back into its bag. I’m not going to lie, that part was a little rough.
TAS Sabrina Whitaker tries on a survival suit
Did You Know?
The Great Lakes are technically considered non-tidal.
Ocean tides (true tides) are generated by the gravitational pull of the moon and sun. While the Great Lakes do experience a spring tide during a new or full moon, the water level changes by only about 2 inches (5 cm)—compared to 5 to 7.5 feet in places like the Long Island Sound. Because these lake tides are so minor, they are masked by greater local weather forces and categorized as non-tidal.
However, the Great Lakes experience short-term water level fluctuations that closely mimic ocean tides. These are called seiches (pronounced sayshes)—standing waves that oscillate back and forth within an enclosed or semi-enclosed body of water.
Unlike tides driven by gravity, seiches are driven by strong winds and rapid changes in atmospheric pressure that literally push water from one end of the lake to the other. Lake Erie is famous for dramatic seiches, but all the Great Lakes experience them. In fact, in 1954, the extreme winds of Hurricane Hazel piled up so much water near Toronto that it triggered a massive seiche on the opposite shore of Lake Ontario!
