Month: October 2019

 The three day port call in Dutch Harbor was a much needed break from the sea, for myself, and for most of the crew. My time was primarily occupied with visiting museums and hiking in the snow capped hills of the surrounding area. I tried to spend time for most of the port call by myself. On the ship I spent so much time constantly being surrounded by people, being alone seemed like a luxury. Dutch Harbor is always a nice place to stop for a couple of days. There is always so much to see; bald eagles perched on street lights, sea otters swimming along the shore, fishing boats gliding in and out of the bay. It seems just yesterday I arrived to Dutch Harbor for the first time, ready to depart for the Arctic. So much has happened since then, I’ve seen and learned so much in the last eight weeks, but Duth Harbor is the same as when I left. At the same time, when the ship cast off for departure, I was ready to leave. Albeits its beautiful nature, Dutch Harbor is a transient place, a rest stop really, nothing more. We sailed off into the Gulf of Alaska, bound for Juneua. I had volunteered for the night shift, partly to provide relief to my colleagues that worked nights all cruise, and partly to have time to work on my own projects. Working nights at sea has its merits, mostly the uninterrupted chunks of time to focus on specific tasks. As I’m finishing up my internship I’m applying for jobs, and dedicating time to supplemental reading of the science behind the measurements taken in the last science mission. I had anticipated a rather boring transit through the Gulf of Alaska with an uneventful work week. And at first everything was fine, as we left the Aleutians, we passed by a pod of sperm whales to to our port side. The sighting was a moment of joy for just another day at sea. But within the first couple of days underway things started to go wrong. First we had to turn and wait out a storm in the Unga strait, just north of Dutch Harbor. While there, we were in constant rain, engulfed by a thick fog. Two days we spent drifting back and forth in the Unga strait. By the third day the command decided that the seas have calmed down enough to sail through. 

    One of the drawbacks of sailing on an icebreaker, is the fact that it handles poorly in waves. The rounded bow is ideal for breaking ice, but it also takes the full force of a wave in non ice bound seas. When we hit roughly ten foot waves, we felt the force of each one. In addition, Gulf of Alaska has an almost constantly confused wave state. This is due to a peculiar physical oceanography of the region. Bound by mountainous terrain on three sides, and the Pacific current to the south, Gulf of Alaska is effectively a massive gyre. The mountains also provide large influxes of freshwater during the melting season, which create eddies all along the coast. The strong wind shear drives these eddies along the coast in what is known as the Alaska Coastal Current. Combined with the complex bathymetry of the ocean floor, riddled with seamounts and trenches, the effect is a confused sea state. My research into the subject was sparked by looking at the seas from the deck, and observing such unique wave front structures. Most notable is the irregular period of waves, which can not be accurately predicted by forecasts. With comprehension of these factors, I understood the caution of the ships command in sailing through this region. 

    The STARC team, myself included, prepared for the seas thoroughly. We had identified all potential hazards, and secured them. Yet since high seas are such an unusual event for the ship, there are things that we overlooked. I guess that’s a good lesson to learn, to accept that there will be failure. That’s something everyone at sea accepts, that you can’t prepare for everything. But I was not nervous at all, in fact I was kind of excited for high seas. I’ve seen high seas, three years ago, during my time in the South Pacific. At the time I was volunteering on the NOAA ship Ronald H. Brown. I was nervous then, as it was my first time at sea. By now, things like high waves and storms excite me. Mostly because it is thrilling, to be on a rolling ship, where things fly off into the air, unexpectedly. Of course, part of my excitement is rather vain, as high seas always make for a good story to tell back on land. 

    When I reported to my shift in the computer lab, we were still sailing through waves of about ten feet. It was kind of let down for me, we were so prepared for a storm, and it did not happen. But I accepted the fact that not all of my time here is going to be exciting, and worthy of stories to tell. Unfortunately that’s a big part of going to sea, preparing for something that never happens. I got through most of my shift working behind my laptop, and that’s when it happened. The ship took a roll, with such great force, that computer monitors flew into the air. I was shocked, I genuinely believed that the monitors were bolted down to the table, as it turns out, they were not. The ship continued to roll well over twenty degrees from side to side. We were in high seas. My excitement quickly drowned in a rush of adrenaline, the things we overlooked, found they’re way into the air and dropped crashing onto the floor. We spent the next hour cleaning up and tying down everything that posed a threat in the roll. We were lucky, of all the computers that fell, only one was broken. The galley however was not as lucky. They lost one of the ovens, and two others moved across the kitchen, since they too weren’t bolted down. Elsewhere on the ship a drum of hydraulic oil spilt in one of the engine rooms. Everyone was up and moving, cleaning up the mess. Maybe that’s why I like high seas, the solidarity of everyone aboard facing the same challenge. By breakfast the seas have subsided, and we were laughing off the events of the night prior. When its only things that get damaged, it’s easy to laugh. Working on the ship, is one of the few places where events like this are laughed off, almost as soon as they are done. Of all the places that I could be right now, I’m happy that I find myself here, aboard the Healy.

    Forty-five days at sea, and we’re back in Dutch Harbor, at least for a couple of days. It feels like yesterday we set sail for the Arctic. A month and a half have gone by in a blink of an eye. Yet the last week has not been as exciting as the weeks prior. Some days are just less memorable than others. We had dropped off the majority of the science party at Nome, mostly due to the fact that Nome has a bigger airport than Dutch Harbor. After that we remained adrift in the coastal regions of Nome. Due to the typhoon that was in the North Pacific this week, the command of the Healy had decided to wait out the storm in the safety of Norton Sound. Norton Sound is certainly a scenic place to be; with views of snow-covered mountains on the horizon. It felt so much different than the Arctic Ocean that we’ve sailed for the last six weeks. While the color of the water in the Arctic was a dark blue color, almost black, Norton Sound had a green, almost malachite color to the water. My speculation is the green color is due to the runoff of nutrients from the Yukon river on the south side of the sound. The nutrient rich water is also the reason why we had to turn off the underway water sampling systems, as it would clog up the instruments. The three days at Norton Sound were some of the best weather we had, clear skies and gentle land breeze. The effects of the typhoon were felt ever so slightly, with waves breaking against the bow. I really liked to stand in the forecastle and watch the wall of sea spray hit the ship with each breaking wave crest. Sometimes the simplest things are the most impressive ones. Something that I don’t really think about anymore, waves breaking against the bow, are the first thing that comes to mind when I think about my life at sea. Our first day drifting was a nice change of pace, a much slower day without any science operations. I guess I didn’t realize how tired I was until I got a chance to rest. 

    In this last week I’ve been following the footsteps of previous MATE interns and learning hexadecimal programming for a signal converter box. System networking has its moments, I certainly take pride in learning how to program a sensor on the spot. I do enjoy working with electronics, even though the subject is rather dry. The way I see it, I need to know how to do the difficult tasks, in order to have the opportunity to do the exciting ones. To ensure those opportunities, I’ve taken lead on multiple projects for STARC. One of them was designing a work order for power outlet replacements in one of the science labs. In order to formulate the most effective work plan, I thought of what instructions I would need to get the job done. I applied the knowledge from my prior experience as an engineer on the R/V Walton Smith, to complete a task I now have as an intern on the USCGC Healy. This is not a project typically assigned to a MATE Intern. But, one of the skills that novice MarTechs generally lack, is the organization of facility management. Once again, a skill that is not glorious or exciting, but is essential in this career path. Throughout this cruise my notions and expectations of the marine technician career path have become a lot more realistic and practical. Not that it’s a bad thing, just a perspective through more experienced eyes. I’ve gain a significantly more professional outlook about the marine science industry during this cruise.  

    All in all this has been a fantastic cruise. During the last quarters with the captain and crew I was awarded the Coast Guard Arctic Service Medal. I feel honored to have the chance to work so extensively beyond the Arctic Circle. The award is given to all personnel that spent over twenty one consecutive days beyond the Arctic Circle. I have also participated in the line crossing ceremony, but that’s as much as I can say about that. Even though the bulk of my time on the Healy is over, I’m still scheduled to sail on the ship for two more weeks. And although the next two weeks will not be as demanding as the science mission, it is still an opportunity to fine tune my skills and knowledge that I’ve picked up. 

    We are just about done with our cruise. One more mooring recovery and we sail back to Dutch Harbor. I’ve had a great time working and learning all about marine technology and mooring operations. But my time on the Healy is not over in Dutch Harbor, I will be sailing back all the way to Seattle. Transits between ports are nice, the workload is not as time dependent as the actual research cruise. The science mission itself is drawing to a close. For me this was an unconventional cruise, as there was a lot of time dedicated to actually learning the theory behind all systems and instruments onboard. I feel like I’ve accomplished all of my goals during this science mission. I’ve learned all the intricacies of managing deck operations and coordinating science needs with the abilities of the ship and crew. I feel fortunate that the people I work with are always willing to take their time and teach me the skills and knowledge that they’ve acquired in their lifetime. As a novice MATE intern I have the opportunity to absorb what is taught to me without a bias. In fact, the way I see it, unbiased learning is a  privilege that only belongs to beginners. And I have to admit, I do ask a lot of questions. With every new scientific operation, there is something new to learn, something new to see, and I’m always happy to help scientists with whatever they need. There were numerous scientific operations within the last week, yet the most memorable one was sea glider recovery.

    One of the best things I got to do during the cruise was be a part of a sea glider recovery group. The operation requires two scientists deployed on a small boat. The sea glider comes up to the surface and floats tail up. The objective is to catch the glider, without damaging the instruments, deploy a glider cradle, while the glider is still in water, and bring them together back onto the small boat. Usually scientific party does the operation by themselves, but by the generosity of the Chief Scientist and the approval of the STARC Coordinator I was able to participate in the glider recovery operation. This operation was probably the most exhilarating event of the entire cruise. Not that other operations were boring, rather the thrill and adrenaline rush of the glider recovery is unparalleled. But, like any high risk operation, glider recovery requires meticulous preparation, and protective gear. Naturally, I did not bring any of the gear with me, so I had to borrow the thermal mid layers from my supervisor, and a dry suit from the science party. Once again, I am grateful to have co-workers that are invested in my experience and safety. I got a brief training by the science party, and sent out to the small boat. We boarded the small boat and were lowered into the water all the way from O-3 deck. Riding through the swells, Arctic wind in my ears, sea spray splashing in my face, I could not be happier. As we moved in onto the glider location, we reached for the tail, and missed. A few more tries, a couple of position adjustments, and we caught the glider. The command of the operation was delegated to one of the University of Washington grad students, as she had the most experience. While she held the glider and positioned it the right way, I lowered the cradle into the water. With the help of two crew members from the Coast Guard, we got the glider in the cradle and brought it back onto the small boat. Its funny, I was more nervous about messing up, rather than going overboard. Writing about this event, it does not seem that fun and exciting, but experiencing it, certainly was amazing. 

    Shifting away from the exciting world of science operations and into the world of marine technology, I keep finding new aspects of ocean technology that I’ve never thought of before. I’ve learned how to terminate fiber optic cables, and the intensive care required in doing such. The cable terminations are a craft, that require practice and patience. The skill requires a time commitment to comprehend and memorize, to the point when it becomes muscle memory. And after it has been learned and perfected, it’s seldom used. This is mostly due to the fact that infield fiber optic cable terminations are less than ideal, and are a last resort measure. But maybe that is the point of a Marine Technicians skill set, to know what to do when things fail, and hopefully have the foresight to prevent failure. It takes time, and an abundance of concentration to research different parts in the process of transferring an electronic signal to numerical data to computer visualization. Countless human hours are spent in troubleshooting and analyzing possible sources of error. Yet most often than not, the right answer is the most simple one. From what I’ve seen, a broken cable, or a failed battery are the culprits of most problems. And even though it only takes a minute or two to solve such a problem, it takes years of knowledge to properly assess the situation and make correct conclusions. The most important skill I’ve picked up so far, is the methodical approach to problems that I have not encountered before.

Back and forth in the Beaufort sea, a sea lacking any notable features. Most days are grey, without any marine mammal sightings, a few dim auroras flickering at night, and occasional snow. Hours seem to last forever, but days fly by without me noticing at all. Yet, even after six weeks aboard the ship, I still enjoy my time here. The science mission is steadily wrapping up. One of the projects that was added to the remainder of our time, is underway CTD system or UCTD. Simply put, it is a little torpedo looking device on a thin line that’s towed behind the ship. The UCTD operation is a round the clock survey of the top one hundred and fifty meters of the ocean. The main objective is to collect a continuous profile data along a specifically designed track. Such that, for the data not collected during the survey, it can be interpolated with statistical significance from the survey that is done by our scientific group. The shifts for volunteers are split up by two hours per person. One would think that two hours outside do not seem as a difficult task. But when the wind shear adds to an already below zero air temperature, two hours standing on deck can be difficult for some. Yet field observation often require an endurance of bad weather, and repetition of a mundane technique. It’s a difficult and exhausting pursuit, without much glory. But that is what our research voyage requires, a sacrifice of comfort for a glimpse into the unique processes of ocean dynamics in the Arctic. The ship’s track is a spaced zigzag in the Marginal Ice Zone or MIZ.The science party is highly interested in collecting all possible data in the interface of ice meltwater and ocean surface layer. The big picture of our cruise is to understand the increased impact of meltwater upon the physical mixing of the ocean surface layer. At least that is how I understand the mission. 

Marginal ice zone is almost an ambiguous sea state. Mostly made up of pancake and grease ice, the sea is a strange boundary layer between the open ocean and packed sea ice. The scientific definition is still debated, with only recent attempts at defining specific parameters. The simple explanation is that MIZ is the region between ocean and packed ice, where waves are still present in the sea state. The waves are dampened by the presence of ice chunks on the surface, but the swells still move through the ice zone. The dampened wave action manifests itself in long periods through the ocean surface, gently uplifting and dropping pancake ice. Every now and then there is just grease ice in the water, which looks extremely smooth, very much like a layer of grease covering the surface of the ocean.  The marginal ice zone is a unique section of the ocean, due to its peculiar fluid dynamic processes. 

 Even on slow days, there is still a sense of adventure and wonder in the scientific work that we do. Even the basic underway surveys from the ADCP unit and the Multibeam echosounder will be used by scores of scientists back on shore. It’s hard to explain our work to people who are not interested in the scientific pursuit. It does seem almost absurd to sacrifice so much time and effort into continuously collecting data that may or may not be used in further studies of the region. I guess it is an existential choice to work in science, there is no immediate gain from our work, but an addition to the collective knowledge of the world’s oceans. Prior to this cruise I had no idea what a Marginal Ice Zone is, or its importance in the physical processes of the Arctic Ocean. Being part of an effort that seeks to study the unknown, is rewarding in itself. 

        Besides assisting the science party, I’ve spent my time further studying computer networking. I’m not particularly interested in the subject, but it’s a big part of the Marine Technician industry, so I ought to know it. This week has been devoted to learning fiber optic cables. One of the big movements in the industry is to use fiber cables more commonly, as they are immune to radio frequency and electromagnetic interference, which are abundant on any ship. However, unlike the generic electronic cables, fiber optics are a lot more expensive and difficult to work with. They require much more care and specialized tools for termination and splicing. Even though fiber optic cables aren’t as exciting as other oceanographic work, it is still a part of the technicians job, in support of the science mission. There are many parts to this job that aren’t glamorous, and are rather mundane, but they need to be done. On the other hand there are very few workplaces that would invest a lengthy amount of time into training interns such as myself. I feel fortunate that the STARC team is invested in my professional development. Often times interns are used as a source of free labor for mundane tasks, without much educational value. However, my experience is without a doubt an educational one. Everyday I learn something new, that is part of is part of seagoing technicians career. I feel confident that by the end of this internship I will have the knowledge I need to continue my career as a Marine Technician.