Sabrina Whitaker: The Final Turn, August 31, 2026

NOAA Teacher at Sea

Sabrina Whitaker

Aboard NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson

August 18 – 31, 2026

Mission: Hydrographic Survey, Leg 3

Geographic Area of Cruise: The Great Lakes

Date: August 31, 2026

Weather Data from the Bridge

Latitude: 43°28.8468’N

Longitude: 076°32.1152’

Winds: 5 knots SW

Temperature:  71 F

Science and Technology Log

view from an upper deck of NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson over the bow as the ship approaches the Port of Oswego; across calm gray waters, we see the tree-lined coast, buildings, and a steeping in the distance
Entering the Port of Oswego, New York

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. 

view of the bridge of NOAA Ship Thomas Jefferson. three NOAA corps officers stand at the ship's controls, facing away from the camera toward the bridge's windows. a fourth person is visible standing right near a window beyond the control panels.
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.

sunset over dark water; at the horizon, the sky is very pink, breaking into orange around the lower portion of the sun, which is mostly obscured by dark gray clouds extending toward the rest of the photo frame
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.

view of the moon, only slightly eclipsed, casting moonlight on the dark water. we can barely see the silhouettes of a crane and an antenna on the deck of the ship
At the very beginning of the lunar eclipse at about 10:30 p.m.
view of just the moon in the black sky, reddish in the lower half.
Just after total coverage at about 12:30 a.m.