Author: Ella Cedarholm

When you go to sea, you’re signing up to enter the wilderness. Civilization is hundreds of miles away, you have limited resources, and conditions can be unexpected and ruthless. Often times the closest people to you (other than your shipmates, of course) are not even on this planet, but rather they’re orbiting earth in the international space station 250 miles above the ocean surface. Yet, we don’t have to give up freshly baked bread, working out at a fully equip gym, vegging out on a couch watching movies, showering with hot water every day, surfing the web, or even calling our family and friends back home. In fact, if we wanted, we could spend a whole day in the confinement of the ship without ever experiencing the conditions outside. 

The technology on board has given us the privilege to stay connected to our land lives, and we can largely maintain our normal everyday habits. Considering how much different going to sea is now than it once was, I wanted to investigate the structures which have allowed for the luxuries of our time. So, in between learning to suture open wounds, fire emergency procedures, soldering electrical wires, taking apart motor bearings, and many more miscellaneous learning opportunities, I’ve been exploring the structure I’ve found most puzzling (and most applicable to my future career): shipboard networking. 

In addition to facilitating smooth science sampling and instrument maintenance, the shipboard science support group is also responsible for internet operations. The R/V Neil Armstrong accesses the off ship web through a HiSeasNet satellite antenna, in addition to its own shipboard wifi network which cannot surf the web but allows for communication between all computers on board. Each cruise participant is allotted a limited amount of HiSeasNet data (200MB in my case), and has access to the science and library computers with unlimited data for work-related surfing. 

My introduction to this technology began by climbing into the HiSeasNet antenna globe on the pilothouse top (the seventh level of the ship) and has evolved into learning syntax for the command line interface (CLI) on my computer. This interface is the key to navigating the shipboard network and computer web. It allows shipboard science support to troubleshoot internet issues, manipulate instrument computers without displays, automatically upload data to shipboard computers, and much more. Proficiency in this software will certainly come in handy not just aboard ships in my future career, but even in my own computer navigation and networking. If you are interested in exploring this software, check out the beginner Bandit games on OverTheWire.org and explore your own computer’s CLI.

Photo: Ella using a compressed air angle grinder to cut open a motor bearing

Photographer: Lila Bellucci, MATE Intern

Working a sea-going job can include spontaneous whale watching, perpetual beach hair, and being present for scientific discoveries, but not without sacrifices. In past and upcoming cruises, I have been/will be at sea during holidays, anniversaries, graduations, celebrations, loved one’s birthdays, and the death of a family member. Today, I am at sea for my 22^ndbirthday.  

The day started no different than any other with watch, breakfast, and the gym, but it was my fellow shipmates – my family for the month – that made it special. At lunch I devoured a slice of ginger orange peel vegan birthday cake baked by the talented chief steward, and went on my way to learn about replacing motor bearings from the electrician and 3^rd engineer. Before dinner I received a card signed by the crew and science party, wishing me happy birthday in each of my shimate’s native languages. Later, after nearly two weeks of cold grey days, the clouds parted and gave way for a spectacular viewing of sunset and a lunar eclipse of the moon. Not only was July 16^thof this year a lunar eclipse, but it was also the 50-year anniversary of the launch of Apollo 11, and what better place to celebrate than on board the R/V Neil Armstrong! 

I’ll miss spending these kinds of moments with my loved ones back on shore, but the collective understanding and support from my shipmates – a shared ukulele song out on deck, a roaring ‘happy birthday!’ from the crew in the lounge, a favorite dish cooked at mealtime – make all the difference. Among the technical skills that I anticipated this internship would teach me, I hoped I would get to learn from a resilient, passionate, conscientious, enthusiastic team of individuals, which has undoubtedly been the case. 

Photo: Ella observing the sunset along the aft port rail

Photographer: Ella’s GoPro (suctioned cupped to the rail)

A large part of data collection on this cruise involves sound. We send sound into the ocean over a wide range of frequencies and listen for its echo, allowing us to collect data on the shape of the ocean floor using the multibeam, the nature of the substrate (whether its rocky or silty) using the sub-bottom profiler, what exists in the water column using the EK80, and where the currents are flowing using the ADCP. As I mentioned in my blog post last week, the accuracy of this data can be affected by the pitching and rolling of the ship. The accuracy is also dependent on knowing the speed of sound through the ocean where the data was collected. 

Sound speed in the ocean is dependent on the temperature and salinity of the water. In general, salinity is relatively constant through the water column, but temperature can change dramatically. The expendable bathythermographs (XBT) that we deploy approximately once a day measure the temperature through the water column, while the surface flow-through system measures surface salinity. Using this data, we can calculate the sound speed. 

The XBT is essentially a sensor attached to a long wire that connects back to a computer where the data is being saved. The electrical circuit that transmits this data is completed when the XBT touches the salty, electricity-conducting ocean water. However, if the circuit is completed elsewhere (by, say, a faulty cable), the computer won’t know the difference between the “data” coming from this faulty completion, and a real XBT deployment. This was the problem we ran into this week, yielding an opportunity for the other MATE interns and I to apply what we had previously learned about electrical circuits to this scenario.

After ruling out some of the easier solutions, we determined that an issue with the cable was likely the cause of our problems. We took an old XBT deployment device with an outdated connector, extended the length of the cable, and added a new connector. This task gave us the opportunity to hone our soldering skills and learn the process of waterproofing our soldered cable joints. After many hours of soldering practice, soldering the cable itself, and applying layers and layers of electrical and self adhesive tape and nocuous electrical insulation, we had our finished product. It has passed our initial test, and in the next few hours we will use it to deploy an XBT at the next planned station. Stay tuned!

Photo: Ella soldering electrical wires on the XBT cable

Photographer: Lila Bellucci, MATE Intern

Just because our cruise doesn’t require any deployments of the rosette sampler, doesn’t mean we haven’t had the chance to learn about it. This instrument is the bread and butter of chemical and physical oceanographic sampling. The most basic of its type collect seawater samples and measure the water column temperature, salinity, oxygen, and pressure (depth) with more sophisticated models like WHOI’s having additional sensors measuring water column turbidity, chlorophyll, and light, and the rosette’s depth from the seafloor. During our free time this first week, Lila and Jacob, the other two MATE interns aboard the R/V Neil Armstrong, and I have dismantled all of the instruments from the rosette, serviced them, and reattached them along with all 24 Niskin bottles. 

In past jobs and educational cruises, I’ve been responsible for filling samples from the Niskin bottles and monitoring the water column data as it is being collected, but I never felt confident in my understanding of the instrument operation. Now that I’ve held each sensor in my hand, connected their wiring and tubing, and scripted their operational files, I look forward to a cruise where I’ll be able to make use of my knowledge in action.

Although this cruise is bathymetry data focused, it has given us the opportunity to hone our data cleaning intuition. Much of this process includes repeatedly rejecting ridiculous data points from the multibeam that result from the imperfection of the instrument – often times due to simply the pitching and rolling of the ship – which can make the task seem mundane at times. When this happens I have to take a step back and remind myself where I am: on one of the most technologically advanced oceanographic research ships in the world, with scientists from all over the planet, mapping the ocean floor. This reminder humbles me back to reality, but losing touch of the uniqueness of these seagoing opportunities is not uncommon, especially when everyone surrounding you is operating business as usual.

Photo: Ella cleaning bathymetric data using the Caris software package.

Photographer: Maria Repczynska, Icelandic Student

With 20 crew members, 14 scientists, 2 SSSG techs (marine technicians), and 3 MATE interns aboard, we exit the Reykjavík port with rare, beautiful, Icelandic weather. The first 24 hours consist of exploring the layout of the boat, learning everyone’s names, safety trainings, an abandon ship drill, and indulging in fresh fruits and vegetables like avocados, berries, cantaloupe, starfruit, pineapple, sprouts, the list goes on and on. With 35 days straight at sea, they won’t last long.

The R/V Neil Armstrong is a more modern boat than I’ve ever sailed on. If it wasn’t for the pitching and rolling of the waves, the inside would feel no different from any given science building at my alma mater, the University of New Hampshire (UNH). In my time onboard UNH’s R/V Gulf Challenger and the Sea Education Association’s SSV Robert C. Seamans, I spent most of my time on deck, collecting samples and adjusting sails, with the horizon constantly in sight. On the R/V Neil Armstrong, however, with few portholes for viewing the horizon, the ship’s movement is disorienting and stomach upsetting (at least until my sea legs grow).

Most of our time is spent inside due to the nature of the sampling plan. Unlike chemical, biological or physical oceanography cruises which include deployments several times a day, this geophysical research cruise focuses on data collected from instruments attached to the bottom of the hull. So, on top of learning deck operations, and the many duties of a marine technician, I am also responsible for monitoring the bathymetric, gravitational, and magnetic data on screens in the science lab as they come in.

The magnetometer is one of the only instruments we will deploy. We tow it behind the ship during the entire cruise, with plenty of pay out to ensure the metal ship doesn’t influence its measurements. It measures the magnetic field of the earth. By looking at the anomalies from the earth’s overall magnetic field, we can distinguish slight changes due to the presence or absence of rocky lava flows (which preserve the earth’s magnetic field at their time of formation), even if they’re beneath sediment. This data, combined with the bathymetric data from the multibeam sonar (which is limited to mapping only the sediment or rocky surface layers) and the gravity data from the gravitometer, help us reconstruct the history of fractures formed from the spreading of the Eurasian and North American plates – the main goal of this cruise.

Photo: Ella and Lila observing while shipboard science support group members Cris and Becca prepare for deploying the magnetometer.

Photographer: Jacob Cooper, MATE Intern