Rosalind Echols: Cool Science on the Ship and Final Reflections on My Rainier Adventure, July 30, 2013

NOAA Teacher at Sea
Rosalind Echols
Aboard NOAA Ship Rainier
July 8 — 25, 2013 

Mission: Hydrographic Survey
Geographical Area of Cruise: Shumagin Islands, Alaska
Date: July 30, 2013

Current Location: 54° 55.6’ N, 160° 10.2’ W

Weather on board: Broken skies with a visibility of 14 nautical miles, variable wind at 22 knots, Air temperature: 14.65°C, Sea temperature: 6.7°C, 2 foot swell, sea level pressure: 1022.72 mb

Science and Technology Log:

Sometimes in school you hear, “You’ll need this someday.” You have been skeptical, and (at times) rightfully so. But here on the Rainier, Avery and I encountered many areas in which what we learned in school has helped us to understand some of the ship operations.

How does a 234 ft. ship, like the Rainier, float?

If you take a large chunk of metal and drop it in the water, it will sink. And yet, here we are sailing on a large chunk of metal. How is that possible? This all has to do with the difference between density (the amount of mass or stuff contained within a chunk of a substance) and buoyancy (the tendency of an object to float). When you put an object in water, it pushes water out of the way. If the object pushes aside an amount of water with equal mass before it becomes fully submerged, it will float. Less dense objects typically float because it doesn’t take that much water to equal their mass, and so they can remain above the water line. The shape of a ship is designed to increase its buoyancy by displacing a greater quantity of water than it would as a solid substance. Because of all the empty space in the ship, by the time the ship has displaced a quantity of water with equal mass to the ship itself, the ship is still above water. As we add people, supplies, gasoline and so on to the ship, we ride lower. As evidenced by the sinking of numerous ships, when a ship springs a hole in the hull and water floods in, the buoyancy of the ship is severely compromised. To take precaution against this, the Rainier has several extra watertight doors that can be closed in case of an emergency. That way, the majority of the ship could be kept secure from the water and stay afloat.

How does a heavy ship like the Rainier stay balanced?

Another critical consideration is the balance of the ship. When the ship encounters the motion of the ocean, it tends to pitch and roll. Like a pendulum, the way in which it does this depends largely on the distance between the center of gravity of the ship (effectively the point at which the mass of the ship is centered) and the point about which it will roll. Ships are very carefully designed and loaded so that they maintain maximum stability.

Boat stability diagram
Boat stability diagram

Ballast is often added to the hulls of ships for the following reasons:

  • to help keep them balanced when there is not enough cargo weight
  • to increase stability when sailing in rough seas
  • to increase the draught of the ship allowing it to pass under bridges
  • to counteract a heavy upper deck like that of the Rainier, which itself contains 64, 000 pounds of launches.

Ballast comes in many forms and historically rocks, sandbags and pieces of heavy metal were used to lower a ship’s center of gravity, thus stabilizing it. Cargo ships, when filling up at port, would unload this ballast in exchange for the cargo to be transported.  For example, in the 1800s, the cobblestone streets of Savannah, Georgia were made with the abandoned ballast of ships. Today water is used as ballast, since it can be loaded and unloaded easier and faster. Most cargo ships contain several ballast tanks in the hull of the ship.

Cargo ship with several ballast tanks
Cargo ship with several ballast tanks

It is thought that the capsizing of the Cougar Ace cargo ship bound for the west coast of the US in 2006, was caused by a ballast problem during an open-sea transfer.  The ship was required to unload their ballast in international waters before entering US waters to prevent the transfer of invasive species carried by the stored water. The result of the Cougar Ace snafu: 4, 700 Mazdas scrapped and millions of dollars lost. Oops!

Couger Ace capsized in open ocean
Cougar Ace capsized in open ocean

Because the Rainier is not loading and unloading tons of cargo, they use a permanent ballast of steel rebar, which sits in the center of the lower hull. Another source of ballast is the 102, 441 gallons of diesel which is divided between many gas tanks that span the width and length of the ship on the port and starboard sides.  These tanks can be filled and emptied individually.  For stability purposes the Rainier must maintain 30% of fuel onboard, and according to the CO, the diesel level is usually way above 30% capacity. The manipulation of the individual diesel tank levels is more for “trimming” of the boat which essentially ensures a smoother ride for passengers.

Where does all the freshwater come from for a crew of 50?

If only humans could drink saltwater, voyages at sea would be much easier and many lives would have been saved. Unfortunately, salt water is three times saltier than human blood and would severely dehydrate the body upon consumption leading to health problems such as kidney failure, brain damage, seizures and even death.  So how can we utilize all this salt water that surrounds us for good use?  Well, to avoid carrying tons of fresh potable water aboard, most large ships use some type of desalination process to remove the salt from the water.  Desalination methods range from reverse osmosis to freeze thawing to distillation. The Rainier uses a distillation method which mimics the water cycle in nature: heated water evaporates into water vapor, leaving salts and impurities behind, condensing into liquid water as the temperature drops. This all is happening inside a closed system so the resulting freshwater can be kept.  To speed up this process, the pressure is lowered inside the desalinator so the water boils at a lower temperature.  Much of the energy needed to heat the water comes from the thermal energy or waste heat given off by nearby machines such as the boiler.

Desalinator in the Rainier engine room
Desalinator in the Rainier engine room

Distillation purifies 99% percent of the salt water and the remaining 1% of impurities are removed by a bromine filter.  The final step of the process is a bromine concentration and PH check to ensure the water is potable. The bromine should be about .5 ppm and the PH between 6.8-7.2.

Daily water quality log
Daily water quality log

Everyday the Rainer desalinates 2500 gallons of saltwater to be used for drinking, cleaning and showering. The toilets, however, use saltwater and if you are lucky like me, you can see flashes of light from bioluminescent plankton when flushing in darkness. It’s like a plankton discotec in the toilet!

How does the chicken cross the road when the road is moving?

The difference between a road map and a nautical chart is that a road map tells you which way to go and a nautical chart just tells you what’s out there and you design your course.  Thus, navigating on the ocean is not as simple as “turn left at the stop sign,” or “continue on for 100 miles”, like directions for cars often state. Imagine that the road beneath you was moving as you drove your car. In order to keep following your desired course, you would need to keep adjusting to the changes in the road. That’s a lot like what happens in a ship. If you want to drive due west, you can’t simply aim the ship in that direction. As you go, the ship gets pushed around by the wind, the currents, and the tides, almost as if you drove your car west and the road slid up to the north. Without compensating for this, you would end up many miles north of your desired location. If you have a north-going current, you have to account for this by making southward adjustments. In a physics class, we might talk about adding vectors, or directional motion; in this case, we are considering velocity vectors. When you add up the speed you are going in each direction, you end up with your actual speed and direction. In the ship we make adjustments so that our actual speed and direction are correct.

Which way to the North Pole?

Did you know that when you look at a compass, it doesn’t always tell you the direction of true north? True north is directly towards the North Pole, the center of the Earth’s axis of rotation which passes directly to the true south pole. However, compasses rely on the location of the magnetic pole which is offset somewhat.

Compass showing true north and magnetic north
Compass showing true north and magnetic north

The combination of the solid iron core and the liquid iron mantle of the Earth create a magnetic field that surrounds the Earth (and protects us from some really damaging effects of the sun). If you visualize the Earth like a bar magnet, magnetic north is located at an approximate position of 82.7°N 114.4°W, roughly in the middle of northern Canada. If you stood directly south of this point, your compass would point true north because true north and magnetic north would be on the same line of longitude. However, as you get farther away from this west or east, the North indicated by your compass is more and more offset.

The magnetic poles of the earth
The magnetic poles of the earth
Earth showing true and magnetic poles
Earth showing true and magnetic poles

Our navigational charts are made using “true” directions. Because of our location in Alaska, if we were steering by compass, we would have to offset all of our measurements by roughly 14° to account for the difference in true and magnetic north. Fortunately, due to the advent of GPS, it is much simpler to tell our true direction.

Why so much daylight and fog?

Every hour, the crew of the Rainier measures the air temperature, sea water temperature, atmospheric pressure, and relative humidity. Aside from keeping a record of weather conditions, this also allows the National Weather Service to provide a more accurate weather forecast for this geographical region by providing local data to plug into the weather prediction models.

Hourly weather log
Hourly weather log

Weather in the Shumagin Islands could be very different from that of the nearest permanent weather station, so this can be valuable information for mariners. In our time out here, we have experienced a lot of fog and cool temperatures (although the spectacular sunshine and sunsets of the past few days make that seem like a distant memory). One reason for this is our simultaneous proximity to a large land mass (Siberia, in far-east Russia) and the ocean. Cool air from the land collides with warm waters coming up from Japan, which often leads to fog.

Currents of the Pacific
Currents around Alaska

However, because we are pretty far north, we also experience a lot of daylight (although not the 24-hour cycles so often associated with Alaska). At this time of the year, even though the Earth is farther away from the sun that it is in our winter season, the axis of the Earth is tilted toward the sun, leading to more direct sunlight and longer hours of illumination.

Earth's orbit around the sun
Earth’s orbit around the sun

One slightly bizarre fact is that all of Alaska is on the same time zone, even though it is really large enough to span several time zones. Out in the west, that means that sunset is in fact much later than it otherwise should be. Our last few spectacular sunsets have all happened around 11pm and true darkness descends just past midnight.  I have on several occasions stayed up several hours past my bedtime fishing on the fantail or getting distracted wandering around the ship because it is still light out at 11pm!

Rosalind and Avery at sunset
Rosalind and Avery (with Van de Graaf generator hair) at sunset

Personal Log:

After roughly a week back on land, I have already been inundated with questions about life on the Rainier, the research we were doing, the other people I met, and so on. It occurs to me that as challenging as it was to embark on this journey and try to learn as much as possible in three weeks, perhaps the greater challenge is to convey the experience to friends, family, and most importantly, my students. How will I convey the sense of nervousness with which I first stepped from the skiff to land, trying not to fall in the frigid north Pacific? What will I do in my classroom to get my students as excited about learning about the ocean and diving into new experiences as I was on this trip? How will I continue to expand on the knowledge and experiences I have had during my time on the Rainier? At the moment, I do not have excellent answers to these questions, but I know that thinking about them will be one of the primary benefits of this extraordinary opportunity.

For the moment, I can say that I have deepened my understanding of both the value and the challenge of working in collaboration with others; the importance of bringing my own voice to my work as well as listening to that of others; and the extent to which new experiences that push me out of my comfort zone are incredibly important for my development as an individual. I genuinely hope that I can develop a classroom environment that enables this same learning process for my students, so that, like the science I discussed above, they aren’t doing things that they will, “need some day,” but doing things that they need now.

Finally, I will say that I am finishing this trip even more intrigued by the ocean, and its physical and biological processes, than I was before. When one of the survey techs declared, “This is so exciting! We are the first people ever to see the bottom of this part of the ocean!” she wasn’t exaggerating. Even after my time on the Rainier, I feel like I am only beginning to scratch the surface of all of the things I might learn about the ocean, and I can’t wait to explore these with my students. I look forward as well to the inevitable research that I will do to try to further solidify my understanding and appreciation of the world’s oceans.

I leave with fond memories of a truly unique 18 day voyage aboard the most productive coastal hydrographic survey platform in the world: her majesty, the NOAA Ship Rainier. Thank you lovely lady and thank you Rainier crew for making this Teacher at Sea adventure so magical!

The most striking sunset of our voyage.
The most striking sunset of our voyage.

Avery Marvin: Cool Science on the Ship and final Reflections of My Rainier Adventure, July 30, 2013

NOAA Teacher at Sea
Avery Marvin
Aboard NOAA Ship Rainier
July 8 — 25, 2013 

Mission: Hydrographic Survey
Geographical Area of Cruise: Shumagin Islands, Alaska
Date: July 30, 2013

Current Location: 54° 55.6’ N, 160° 10.2’ W

Weather on board: Broken skies with a visibility of 14 nautical miles, variable wind at 22 knots, Air temperature: 14.65°C, Sea temperature: 6.7°C, 2 foot swell, sea level pressure: 1022.72 mb

Science and Technology Log:

Sometimes in school you hear, “You’ll need this someday.” You have been skeptical, and (at times) rightfully so. But here on the Rainier, Rosalind and I encountered many areas in which what we learned in school has helped us to understand some of the ship operations.

How does a 234 ft. ship, like the Rainier, float?

If you take a large chunk of metal and drop it in the water, it will sink. And yet, here we are sailing on a large chunk of metal. How is that possible? This all has to do with the difference between density (the amount of mass or stuff contained within a chunk of a substance) and buoyancy (the tendency of an object to float). When you put an object in water, it pushes water out of the way. If the object pushes aside an amount of water with equal mass before it becomes fully submerged, it will float. Less dense objects typically float because it doesn’t take that much water to equal their mass, and so they can remain above the water line. The shape of a ship is designed to increase its buoyancy by displacing a greater quantity of water than it would as a solid substance. Because of all the empty space in the ship, by the time the ship has displaced a quantity of water with equal mass to the ship itself, the ship is still above water. As we add people, supplies, gasoline and so on to the ship, we ride lower. As evidenced by the sinking of numerous ships, when a ship springs a hole in the hull and water floods in, the buoyancy of the ship is severely compromised. To take precaution against this, the Rainier has several extra watertight doors that can be closed in case of an emergency. That way, the majority of the ship could be kept secure from the water and stay afloat.

How does a heavy ship like the Rainier stay balanced?

Another critical consideration is the balance of the ship. When the ship encounters the motion of the ocean, it tends to pitch and roll. Like a pendulum, the way in which it does this depends largely on the distance between the center of gravity of the ship (effectively the point at which the mass of the ship is centered) and the point about which it will roll. Ships are very carefully designed and loaded so that they maintain maximum stability.

Boat stability diagram
Boat stability diagram

Ballast is often added to the hulls of ships for the following reasons:

  • to help keep them balanced when there is not enough cargo weight
  • to increase stability when sailing in rough seas
  • to increase the draught of the ship allowing it to pass under bridges
  • to counteract a heavy upper deck like that of the Rainier, which itself contains 64, 000 pounds of launches.

Ballast comes in many forms and historically rocks, sandbags and pieces of heavy metal were used to lower a ship’s center of gravity, thus stabilizing it. Cargo ships, when filling up at port, would unload this ballast in exchange for the cargo to be transported.  For example, in the 1800s, the cobblestone streets of Savannah, Georgia were made with the abandoned ballast of ships. Today water is used as ballast, since it can be loaded and unloaded easier and faster. Most cargo ships contain several ballast tanks in the hull of the ship.

Cargo ship with several ballast tanks
Cargo ship with several ballast tanks

It is thought that the capsizing of the Cougar Ace cargo ship bound for the west coast of the US in 2006, was caused by a ballast problem during an open-sea transfer.  The ship was required to unload their ballast in international waters before entering US waters to prevent the transfer of invasive species carried by the stored water. The result of the Cougar Ace snafu: 4, 700 Mazdas scrapped and millions of dollars lost. Oops!

Couger Ace capsized in open ocean
Cougar Ace capsized in open ocean

Because the Rainier is not loading and unloading tons of cargo, they use a permanent ballast of steel rebar, which sits in the center of the lower hull. Another source of ballast is the 102, 441 gallons of diesel which is divided between many gas tanks that span the width and length of the ship on the port and starboard sides.  These tanks can be filled and emptied individually.  For stability purposes the Rainier must maintain 30% of fuel onboard, and according to the CO, the diesel level is usually way above 30% capacity. The manipulation of the individual diesel tank levels is more for “trimming” of the boat which essentially ensures a smoother ride for passengers.

Where does all the freshwater come from for a crew of 50?

If only humans could drink saltwater, voyages at sea would be much easier and many lives would have been saved. Unfortunately, salt water is three times saltier than human blood and would severely dehydrate the body upon consumption leading to health problems such as kidney failure, brain damage, seizures and even death.  So how can we utilize all this salt water that surrounds us for good use?  Well, to avoid carrying tons of fresh potable water aboard, most large ships use some type of desalination process to remove the salt from the water.  Desalination methods range from reverse osmosis to freeze thawing to distillation. The Rainier uses a distillation method which mimics the water cycle in nature: heated water evaporates into water vapor, leaving salts and impurities behind, condensing into liquid water as the temperature drops. This all is happening inside a closed system so the resulting freshwater can be kept.  To speed up this process, the pressure is lowered inside the desalinator so the water boils at a lower temperature.  Much of the energy needed to heat the water comes from the thermal energy or waste heat given off by nearby machines such as the boiler.

Desalinator in the Rainier engine room
Desalinator in the Rainier engine room

Distillation purifies 99% percent of the salt water and the remaining 1% of impurities are removed by a bromine filter.  The final step of the process is a bromine concentration and PH check to ensure the water is potable. The bromine should be about .5 ppm and the PH between 6.8-7.2.

Daily water quality log
Daily water quality log

Everyday the Rainer desalinates 2500 gallons of saltwater to be used for drinking, cleaning and showering. The toilets, however, use saltwater and if you are lucky like me, you can see flashes of light from bioluminescent plankton when flushing in darkness. It’s like a plankton discotec in the toilet!

How does the chicken cross the road when the road is moving?

The difference between a road map and a nautical chart is that a road map tells you which way to go and a nautical chart just tells you what’s out there and you design your course.  Thus, navigating on the ocean is not as simple as “turn left at the stop sign,” or “continue on for 100 miles”, like directions for cars often state. Imagine that the road beneath you was moving as you drove your car. In order to keep following your desired course, you would need to keep adjusting to the changes in the road. That’s a lot like what happens in a ship. If you want to drive due west, you can’t simply aim the ship in that direction. As you go, the ship gets pushed around by the wind, the currents, and the tides, almost as if you drove your car west and the road slid up to the north. Without compensating for this, you would end up many miles north of your desired location. If you have a north-going current, you have to account for this by making southward adjustments. In a physics class, we might talk about adding vectors, or directional motion; in this case, we are considering velocity vectors. When you add up the speed you are going in each direction, you end up with your actual speed and direction. In the ship we make adjustments so that our actual speed and direction are correct.

Which way to the North Pole?

Did you know that when you look at a compass, it doesn’t always tell you the direction of true north? True north is directly towards the North Pole, the center of the Earth’s axis of rotation which passes directly to the true south pole. However, compasses rely on the location of the magnetic pole which is offset somewhat.

Compass showing true north and magnetic north
Compass showing true north and magnetic north

The combination of the solid iron core and the liquid iron mantle of the Earth create a magnetic field that surrounds the Earth (and protects us from some really damaging effects of the sun). If you visualize the Earth like a bar magnet, magnetic north is located at an approximate position of 82.7°N 114.4°W, roughly in the middle of northern Canada. If you stood directly south of this point, your compass would point true north because true north and magnetic north would be on the same line of longitude. However, as you get farther away from this west or east, the North indicated by your compass is more and more offset.

The magnetic poles of the earth
The magnetic poles of the earth
Earth showing true and magnetic poles
Earth showing true and magnetic poles

Our navigational charts are made using “true” directions. Because of our location in Alaska, if we were steering by compass, we would have to offset all of our measurements by roughly 14° to account for the difference in true and magnetic north. Fortunately, due to the advent of GPS, it is much simpler to tell our true direction.

Why so much daylight and fog?

Every hour, the crew of the Rainier measures the air temperature, sea water temperature, atmospheric pressure, and relative humidity. Aside from keeping a record of weather conditions, this also allows the National Weather Service to provide a more accurate weather forecast for this geographical region by providing local data to plug into the weather prediction models.

Hourly weather log
Hourly weather log

Weather in the Shumagin Islands could be very different from that of the nearest permanent weather station, so this can be valuable information for mariners. In our time out here, we have experienced a lot of fog and cool temperatures (although the spectacular sunshine and sunsets of the past few days make that seem like a distant memory). One reason for this is our simultaneous proximity to a large land mass (Siberia, in far-east Russia) and the ocean. Cool air from the land collides with warm waters coming up from Japan, which often leads to fog.

Currents of the Pacific
Currents around Alaska

However, because we are pretty far north, we also experience a lot of daylight (although not the 24-hour cycles so often associated with Alaska). At this time of the year, even though the Earth is farther away from the sun that it is in our winter season, the axis of the Earth is tilted toward the sun, leading to more direct sunlight and longer hours of illumination.

Earth's orbit around the sun
Earth’s orbit around the sun

One slightly bizarre fact is that all of Alaska is on the same time zone, even though it is really large enough to span several time zones. Out in the west, that means that sunset is in fact much later than it otherwise should be. Our last few spectacular sunsets have all happened around 11pm and true darkness descends just past midnight.  I have on several occasions stayed up several hours past my bedtime fishing on the fantail or getting distracted wandering around the ship because it is still light out at 11pm!

Rosalind and Avery at sunset
Rosalind and Avery (with Van de Graaf generator hair) at sunset

Personal Log:

Well friends, I said a bittersweet goodbye to the Rainier and its incredible dynamic crew. I am sad to have left but am also excited to return home to the Oregon Coast to begin planning for this school year. I look forward to incorporating my newfound knowledge and unique experience at sea into the classroom.  I am still amazed at the breadth and diversity of information that I learned in just under 3 weeks. From learning how to steer the ship to acquiring and processing survey data to puffin reproduction, the list goes on. I never stopped asking questions or being curious.  And the Rainier crew was always there to graciously answer my questions.  I am grateful for all that they taught me and for the kindness and patience they consistently showed me.

When I asked Rick Brennan, the Commanding Officer, what he most enjoyed about his job, he responded “The people.” He said he enjoys seeing the personal and professional growth of individual crew members.  It is not hard to see that the Rainier crew is pretty amazing.  They are an extremely dedicated group of individuals whose passion for their profession supersedes living a “normal life”. Each one of them has an interesting story of how they got to the Rainier and many of them sacrifice family time and personal relationships to be aboard the ship for months at a time.

Beyond the scientific knowledge attained, I leave this ship with a few important life reminders.

1) Be patient with yourself, your own learning style, with others around you and the task at hand. Authentic science is messy and exhausting. Ship life attracts unique personalities.

2) Don’t forget about the big picture and why you are here in the first place. “Mowing the lawn” day in and day out can seem mundane but all of those data points together will compromise the updated nautical chart which will ensure safe mariner travel for a multitude of ships.

3) Teamwork is key to any complex operation. This not only means working together but always being willing to lend a helping hand and sharing your particular knowledge with fellow crew members.

4) Appreciate, observe and protect the natural beauty that surrounds us.  Cultivate this awareness in others. Our livelihood as a species depends on our interaction with the environment.

This is my second to last blog post. Stay tuned for an exciting last entry about my extended stay in Kodiak, Alaska (post Rainier) where I explored the unique cultural and historical facets of this vibrant fishing port. Note: This next post will involve bears, a seal skin kayak, a behind the scenes fish factory tour, orcas, reindeer sausage and fossils!

For now, I leave with fond memories of a truly unique 18 day voyage aboard the most productive coastal hydrographic survey platform in the world: her majesty, the Rainier. Thank you lovely lady and thank you Rainier crew for making this Teacher at Sea adventure so magical!

The most striking sunset of our voyage.
The most striking sunset of our voyage.

Susy Ellison: Dreaming of the Cool North, July 22, 2013

NOAA Teacher at Sea
Susy Ellison
Aboard NOAA Ship Rainier
September 9-26, 2013

Mission:  Hydrographic Survey
Geographic Area: South Alaska Peninsula and Shumagin Islands
Date:  July 22, 2013

In September I will be heading north for 3 weeks as a NOAA Teacher at Sea (TAS).  Right now it’s over 90F outside and I am happily visualizing wearing layers of fleece and waterproof raingear on the deck of the NOAA Ship Rainier assisting with hydrographic survey work along the South Alaska Peninsula and Shumagin Islands.

How am I preparing for my experience?  First and foremost, it’s important to actually practice blogging and communicating using the TAS website.  Since this is the platform that will enable me to communicate with my coworkers, students, and all of you out there in the blogosphere, it’s important to learn how to manipulate all the nuances of electronic communication.  Second, I need to learn about the work I will be involved in during my TAS cruise.  Third, since I will be gone during the school year, I need to design lessons and unit plans that will enable students and staff at school to follow along during my experience.  Finally, since it’s still summer vacation, I need to make sure that I get out there!!

A visit to Niagara Falls

I am Susy Ellison, a teacher at Yampah Mountain High School in Glenwood Springs, CO.  Yampah is a public, alternative high school serving students from 4 school districts.  Our students come to us for a variety of reasons, although most are united in their search for a high school experience that helps them identify and pursue their passions while providing information in a relevant, hands-on manner.  I am the sole science teacher for our school, responsible for teaching earth, life, and physical science classes, as well as taking students outdoors for weeklong trips in the nearby mountains and deserts. My passion is environmental literacy, creating connections between people and their planet.  My students will tell you that, no matter what class they are taking, they learn about the planet and how their actions matter.

If you’ve been a good follower of the TAS blogs, you will already know that there have been 4 teachers cruising along on the Rainier (2 of them are on the ship right now).  I have been following their blogs to learn about the science and daily life aboard the ship.  It is exciting to know that there are still places that need to be mapped. I am looking forward to gaining firsthand knowledge of the mapping technology that is used. The one thing that I have noticed is always mentioned in their blogs, besides the science, is the fact that no one is malnourished onboard the ship!

In the coming weeks I will be designing lesson and unit plans for my science classes so that they will be able to follow along while I am at sea. Since Yampah takes an integrated approach to education, I am also creating lessons that our math, language arts, and social studies teachers will be using to add a little hydrographic science to their classes.  The lessons will revolve around the theme of ‘Mapping Our World’, which just happens to be this year’s theme for Earth Science Week.

Finally, my preparations include having an action-packed summer vacation.  I am lucky enough to live in western Colorado, close to mountains, rivers, and deserts.  I have spent part of the summer floating rivers in Utah and Idaho with my husband and friends.  Now, as the waters ebb, I am heading to the mountains for some altitude-adjustment and hiking.  The wildflowers are lovely, and the high-elevation hiking helps me beat the heat (and stay in shape!).

My husband in the dory he built.
My husband in the dory he built.
Floating in my kayak on the Green River
Floating in my kayak on the Green River
I have a wonderful 'backyard'!
I have a wonderful ‘backyard’!

Stay tuned as my cruise approaches for more of my preparations and, perhaps, some glimpses of the lessons I will be preparing for my students.

Avery Marvin: Beaming With Excitement – Sound Waves and the Sea Floor, July 19, 2013

NOAA Teacher at Sea
Avery Marvin
Aboard NOAA Ship Rainier (Ship Tracker)
July 8-25, 2013 

Mission: Hydrographic Survey
Geographical Area of Cruise: Shumagin Islands, Alaska
Date: July 19, 2013

Current Location: 54° 49.684 N, 159° 46.604 W

Weather Data from the Bridge: Foggy and overcast, wind 21 knots, air temperature: 11.5° C

Science and Technology Log:

As the fog horn sounds every two minutes and we sail solitary through the ocean, we are now in full swing surveying the Shumagin Islands, between and around Nagai, Bird, and Chernabura Islands. Unlike the old-time surveyors who used lead lines (lead weight attached to a long string), we are using a multibeam sonar system, which enables us to gather a large quantity of very accurate data in a more efficient and timely fashion.

3D sea floor
Processed sonar data showing 3D image of the sea floor.

Sonar, (SOund Navigation And Ranging) uses the principle of sound wave reflection to detect objects in the water. Just as our eyes see the reflection of visible light off of the objects around us to create a visual image, when a sound wave hits something, it reflects off that “thing” and returns to its starting point (the receiver). We can measure the time it takes for a pulse to travel from the Sonar device below the boat to the ocean floor and then back to the receiver on the boat. Using a simple distance=speed * time equation, we can get the water depth at the spot where each beam is reflected.

The skiff that we use for the shoreline activities discussed in the last post has a single-beam sonar system that directs a pulse straight down beneath the hull to get a rough depth estimate. However, for our hydrographic work on the ship and launches, we use a multibeam system that sends 512 sound pulses simultaneously towards the sea floor over a 120° angle. When many sound waves or “beams” are emitted at the same time (called a pulse) in a fan like pattern (called a swath), the reflected information creates a “sound picture” of the objects or surface within that swath range. The actual width of this swath varies with the depth, but with 512 beams per pulse, and sending out between 5-30 pulses every second, we acquire a lot of data. If you piece together many swaths worth of data you get a continuous topographical or physical map of the ocean floor, and thus the depth of the water. For more information about the specific sonar system used aboard the Rainier and its launches, check out the ship page or the NOAA page about their hydrography work.

Multibeam
Graphic showing an example of the multibeam swath below a launch. Notice how the swath gets wider as the depth increases.
Multibeam data
Cross section of sea floor data showing dot or “ping” for each multibeam measurement. Notice how many individual measurements are represented in this one section.
Swath data
Cross section of sea floor data. Each color represents data from one swath. Notice the overlap between swaths as well as the width for each one.
3D floor image
Processed sonar data showing 3D image of the sea floor.

In order to understand the complexities of sonar, it is important to understand the properties of sound. Sound is a pressure wave that travels when molecules collide with each other. We know that sound can travel in air, because we experience this every day when we talk to each other, but it can also travel in liquids and solids (which whales rely on to communicate). As a general rule, sound travels much faster in liquids and solids than in air because the molecules in liquids and solids are closer together and therefore collide more often, passing on the vibration at a faster rate. (The average speed of sound in air is about 343 meters every second, whereas the approximate speed of sound in water we have been measuring is around 1475 meters every second). Within a non-uniform liquid, like saltwater, the speed of sound varies depending on the various properties of the saltwater at the survey site. These properties include water temperature, dissolved impurities (i.e. salts, measured by salinity), and pressure. An increase in any of these properties leads to an increase in the speed of sound, and since we’re using the equation distance = speed * time equation, it is crucial to consistently measure them when seeking depth measurements.

CTD Data
Data from CTD showing temperature vs. sound speed from one data set. Notice how the temperature and sound speed seem correlated.

To measure these properties, a device called a CTD (Conductivity-Temperature-Depth) is used. Conductivity in this acronym refers to the free flowing ions in salt water (Na and Cl, for example), which are conductive and the concentration of these ions determines the salinity of the water. The CTD measures these three properties (Conductivity, Temperature and Depth) so the speed of sound in the water can be calculated at every point in the water column

To use the CTD, lovely humans like Avery and I will drop it into the water (it is attached to a winch system) at the area where we are surveying and as it travels to the sea floor, it takes a profile of the three saltwater properties mentioned before. Back in the computer lab, software takes this profile data and calculates the sound velocity or speed of sound through the water in that region.  As a crosscheck, we compare our profile data and sound velocity figures obtained at the site to historical measured limits for each property. If our measurements fall significantly outside of these historical values, we might try casting again or switch to a different CTD. However, because we are surveying in such a remote area, in some cases, data outside historical limits is acceptable.

CTD graphs
Graph of our sound speed vs. depth data showing comparison to historical data.

Given that we are trying to determine the water depth to within centimeters, variations in the sound speed profile can cause substantial enough errors that we try to take a “cast” or CTD reading in each small area that we are gathering data. The software the survey team uses is able to correct automatically for the sound velocity variations by using the data from the CTD. This means that the depth profile created by the sonar systems is adjusted based on the actual sound velocities (from the CTD data) rather than the surface sound speed. We are also able to account for speed changes that would cause refraction, or a bending of the beam as it travels, which would otherwise provide inaccurate data about the location of the sea floor.

Avery lowers the CTD into the water for a "cast". The CTD needs to sit in the water for a few minutes to acclimate before being lowered for a profile.
Avery lowers the CTD into the water for a “cast”. The CTD needs to sit in the water for a few minutes to acclimate before being lowered for a profile.
Avery successfully hauls in the CTD out of the water.
Avery successfully hauls in the CTD out of the water.

Personal Log:

You can’t go to Alaska without fishing its waters, rich with a variety of delectable fish species.  So I decided to get my Alaskan recreation fishing license and try my hand at it on the fantail (stern) of the Rainier, while we were anchored in Bird Island cove. Carl VerPlanck, an experienced fisherman with arms like Arnold Schwarzenegger, had coached me on the best jigging techniques for catching a halibut and with my eyes (and mind) on the prize I followed his instructions diligently.  It paid off as I landed several fish my first night on the fantail, with one halibut being a true keeper. John Kidd, NOAA Corps. Officer, gaffed my meaty fish over the steep rail of the Rainier and hauled it aboard.  He was impressed with my catch (and hidden fishing talent), stating “This is the biggest fish caught so far this season.” Woohoo! Most impressive was the amount of meat the fish yielded (4 large filets) which I proudly donated to the kitchen and John. (Three big filets to the kitchen and one filet to John for his camaraderie, the use of his high-tech rod set-up and filleting skills). The following night, we all ate delicious baked Pacific Halibut filets, coated in a creamy Caesar glaze, prepared by chef-extraordinaire, Kathy. It’s pretty cool that I got to feed the ship!!

Avery's meaty catch, a Pacific Halibut.
Avery’s meaty catch, a Pacific Halibut.
John Kidd (NOAA Officer) filleting my halibut
John Kidd (NOAA Corps. Officer) filleting my halibut
Look at all that meat!
Look at all that meat!
4 large fillets from the halibut
4 large fillets from the halibut

This was my first time catching a halibut and after close examination (and dissection) of this large, rather bizarre looking flatfish I became very intrigued and had several questions: How and why do the eyes migrate to one side?  How do you tell the age of a halibut? What does the word “halibut” mean?

Like any good scientist, I proceeded to find the answers to these questions, and in doing so, learned many more interesting tidbits about Halibut. (The other species of halibut is the Atlantic Halibut which is very similar to the Pacific Halibut and is named as such for the ocean it occupies.)

So lets start with the name “halibut.” It’s origin is Latin (hali=haly=holy, but=butt=flat fish) and literally translates to “holy flat fish” because it was popular on Catholic holy days. Now what’s with the eye migration and why are both eyes on the same side? Well to understand this question thoroughly we must look at the conditions under which the halibut is born. Female halibut are sexually mature at age 12, spawning from November to March in deep water (300-1500 feet). Depending on their size, females release several thousand to several million eggs which are fertilized externally by the males. After the eggs are fertilized by the males, they become buoyant and start to float up the water column, hatching into free floating larva at about 16 days.  As the larva mature, they continue to rise to the surface. At this larval stage they are upright, like any other “regular” fish, with one eye on each side of their head. This eye placement makes sense, considering they are in the open ocean with water on all sides of them.  When at or near the surface, the larvae drift towards shore by ocean currents. As they get closer to shore and at about 1 inch in length, they undergo a very unique metamorphosis in which the left eye moves over the snout to the right side of the head. At the same time their left side fades in color eventually becoming white and their right side becomes a mottled olive-brown color. By 6 months, they are ready to settle to the bottom in near shore areas, hiding under the silt and sand, with just eyes exposed. Their mottled side will be face up, blending into their surrounds and their white side will face down, creating a “countershading” coloration, which helps keep them hidden from predators.

From halibut larvae to adult halibut. Notice the migration of the left eye to the right side and the pigmentation at the last stage.
Halibut development: from halibut larvae to adult halibut. Notice the migration of the left eye to the right side and the pigmentation at the last stage.

The Pacific Halibut I caught was by no means a monster or “barn door” as the huge ones are called. But it also was not a “chicken”, slang for a small halibut. Female halibut can reach lengths of 8 feet and a weight of 500+ pounds. Males rarely exceed 100 pounds.  Halibut are generally not picky eaters and will pretty much eat anything that lives in the ocean.  Carl joked that a halibut would even eat an old shoe dangling from a fishing pole.

I was surprised to learn that halibut can live as long as 55 years.  Scientists can accurately age a halibut by counting the rings in their ear bone or “otolith”, similar to dating a tree using its annual growth rings. So next time you catch a halibut and plan on keeping it, try to find the ear bone, grab a microscope and age the fish. If that fails, don’t forget to cut the cheeks out of the halibut (along with the 4 regular meaty fillets), for I am told that is the best part to eat. 🙂

Halibut otolith or ear bone that can be used to age the fish by counting the rings under a microscope
Halibut otolith or ear bone that can be used to age the fish by counting the rings on the otolith (under a microscope).

Fun factoid: Sonar works a lot like the echo sounding of a bat, and its development was partially prompted by the Titanic disaster.

Rosalind Echols: Beaming With Excitement – Sound Waves and the Sea Floor, July 19, 2013

NOAA Teacher at Sea
Rosalind Echols
Aboard NOAA Ship Rainier (Ship Tracker)
July 8-25, 2013 

Mission: Hydrographic Survey
Geographical Area of Cruise: Shumagin Islands, Alaska
Date: July 19, 2013

Current Location: 54° 49.684 N, 159° 46.604 W

Weather Data from the Bridge: Foggy and overcast, wind 21 knots, 11.5° C

Science and Technology Log:

Foggy islands
View from the launch while gathering our multibeam sonar data.

As the fog horn sounds every two minutes and we sail solitary through the ocean, we are now in full swing surveying the Shumagin Islands, between and around Nagai, Bird, and Chernabura Islands. Unlike the old-time surveyors who used lead lines (lead weight attached to a long string), we are using a multibeam sonar system, which enables us to gather a large quantity of very accurate data in a more efficient and timely fashion.

3D sea floor
Processed sonar data showing 3D image of the sea floor.

Sonar, (SOund Navigation And Ranging) uses the principle of sound wave reflection to detect objects in the water. Just as our eyes see the reflection of visible light off of the objects around us to create a visual image, when a sound wave hits something, it reflects off that “thing” and returns to its starting point (the receiver). We can measure the time it takes for a pulse to travel from the Sonar device below the boat to the ocean floor and then back to the receiver on the boat. Using a simple distance=speed * time equation, we can get the water depth at the spot where each beam is reflected.

The skiff that we use for the shoreline activities discussed in the last post has a single-beam sonar system that directs a pulse straight down beneath the hull to get a rough depth estimate. However, for our hydrographic work on the ship and launches, we use a multibeam system that sends 512 sound pulses simultaneously towards the sea floor over a 120° angle. When many sound waves or “beams” are emitted at the same time (called a pulse) in a fan like pattern (called a swath), the reflected information creates a “sound picture” of the objects or surface within that swath range. The actual width of this swath varies with the depth, but with 512 beams per pulse, and sending out between 5-30 pulses every second, we acquire a lot of data. If you piece together many swaths worth of data you get a continuous topographical or physical map of the ocean floor, and thus the depth of the water. For more information about the specific sonar system used aboard the Rainier and its launches, check out the ship page or the NOAA page about their hydrography work.

Multibeam
Graphic showing an example of the multibeam swath below a launch. Notice how the swath gets wider as the depth increases.
Multibeam data
Cross section of sea floor data showing dot for each multibeam measurement. Notice how many individual measurements are represented in this one section.
Swath data
Cross section of sea floor data. Each color represents data from one swath. Notice the overlap between swaths as well as the width for each one.
3D floor image
Processed sonar data showing 3D image of the sea floor.

In order to understand the complexities of sonar, it is important to understand the properties of sound. Sound is a pressure wave that travels when molecules collide with each other. We know that sound can travel in air, because we experience this every day when we talk to each other, but it can also travel in liquids and solids (which whales rely on to communicate). As a general rule, sound travels much faster in liquids and solids than in air because the molecules in liquids and solids are closer together and therefore collide more often, passing on the vibration at a faster rate. (The average speed of sound in air is about 343 meters every second, whereas the approximate speed of sound in water we have been measuring is around 1475 meters every second). Within a non-uniform liquid, like saltwater, the speed of sound varies depending on the various properties of the saltwater at the survey site. These properties include water temperature, dissolved impurities (i.e. salts, measured by salinity), and pressure. An increase in any of these properties leads to an increase in the speed of sound, and since we’re using the equation distance = speed * time equation, it is crucial to consistently measure them when seeking depth measurements.

CTD Data
Data from CTD showing temperature vs. sound speed from one data set. Notice how the temperature and sound speed seem correlated.

To measure these properties, a device called a CTD (Conductivity-Temperature-Depth) is used. Conductivity in this acronym refers to the free flowing ions in salt water (Na and Cl, for example), which are conductive and the concentration of these ions determines the salinity of the water. The CTD measures these three properties (Conductivity, Temperature and Depth) so the speed of sound in the water can be calculated at every point in the water column

To use the CTD, lovely humans like Avery and I will drop it into the water (it is attached to a winch system) at the area where we are surveying and as it travels to the sea floor, it takes a profile of the three saltwater properties mentioned before. Back in the computer lab, software takes this profile data and and calculates the sound velocity or speed of sound through the water in that region.  As a crosscheck, we compare our profile data and sound velocity figures obtained at the site to historical measured limits for each property. If our measurements fall significantly outside of these historical values, we might try casting again or switch to a different CTD. However, because we are surveying in such a remote area, in some cases, data outside historical limits is acceptable.

CTD graphs
Graph of our sound speed vs. depth data showing comparison to historical data.

Given that we are trying to determine the water depth to within centimeters, variations in the sound speed profile can cause substantial enough errors that we try to take a “cast” or CTD reading in each small area that we are gathering data. The software the survey team uses is able to correct automatically for the sound velocity variations by using the data from the CTD. This means that the depth profile created by the sonar systems is adjusted based on the actual sound velocities (from the CTD data) rather than the surface sound speed. We are also able to account for speed changes that would cause refraction, or a bending of the beam as it travels, which would otherwise provide inaccurate data about the location of the sea floor.

Rosalind CTD 1
Rosalind lowers the CTD into the water for a “cast”. The CTD needs to sit in the water for a few minutes to acclimate before being lowered for a profile.
Rosalind CTD 2
Rosalind operating the winch on to pull the CTD back up out of the water. It’s important to pay attention to the flexible white bar to make sure the CTD isn’t caught on anything at the bottom.
Rosalind CTD 3
Rosalind pulling the CTD out of the water, successfully taking a cast and not falling in the water. Safety first!

Did you know? Sonar works a lot like the echo sounding of a bat, and its development was partially prompted by the Titanic disaster.

Personal Log:

On a ship with a crew of more than 50 people, you encounter people with a wide variety of backgrounds and stories about how they came to be here. Whether it is the NOAA corps officers, the members of the deck department, the engineers, the stewards and cooks, or the members of the hydrographic survey department, each person has a unique life experience that led them to be here on the Rainier. The advantage of being in close quarters for three weeks is that there are lots of opportunities to talk to people about what brought them here. Contrary, I think, to the messaging we sometimes get about needing to pick a life path early and stick to it, the people here have shown me the importance of being flexible and leaving yourself open to new and exciting opportunities professionally. One of the current members of the deck department was also in the navy for a long time, served several tours in Iraq and was trained as a Navy diver. Now, he is moving over to the survey department, and will be attending the NOAA dive school and hydrographic training this fall and winter, which I think is amazing. Case in point: it’s never too late to change your mind about what you want to do with your life.

Rocky shoreline
One of the many stunning views we have seen during our surveying activities.

In these conversations, it always comes out that I teach students physics. Regardless of the job someone does here on the Rainier, it seems inevitable that each person has a story about his or her own experience with physics. It seems that in the majority of cases, even for people who are now very successfully scientists, the experience was not positive. People all the time tell me that they didn’t really understand physics, or weren’t a physics person, and yet this same person can explain in great detail how we can use the ship to create a “duck pond” to bring in the launches in foul weather, or fix the engine of one of the launches, or determine the appropriate course of the ship to account for the swell and current to head in a particular direction. All of these unquestionably involve an application of physics, which suggests to me that the issue is not necessarily that physics is beyond some people, but that we don’t always teach students in ways that will work for them. This certainly gives me a lot to think about as a teacher, and hopefully I can maintain this awareness in my teaching.