Category: University of Alaska Fairbanks Page 3 of 5

As the title suggests, it’s all about ice, ice everywhere. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Operations continue as we venture deeper into the ice, and I find myself on deck as a line handler on the crane. Being a part of these operations, getting the REMUS and their other instruments out of the water, is always challenging, rewarding, and a great experience. Our Bosun and deck crew are amazing, and they always get the job done, even in single-digit weather with a -12 degree Celsius wind chill. This is definitely the coldest I have ever experienced, even with the mustang suit.

 

 

Apart from my daily duties, we are nearing the end of the cruise and internship, and now I get to work on more side projects. I’m focused on gaining more experience with 3D printing and designing. So, naturally, I found a mini version of the REMUS (left) that we’ve been deploying and recovering for a month, and I printed it. He’s adorable and ive started to paint it (it’s a work in progress!). I also was able to print a surprise birthday gift for my dad (on the right) since I am going to be on the boat for his birthday. He reads these blogs so surprise! Happy Birthday Dad! I’ll see you soon. 

I also get to practice some more complicated soldering techniques since we have all the equipment.

Between all the fun projects, I celebrated Halloween for the first time on a ship, which was very enjoyable. Everyone was excited for Halloween because we knew the chef was hiding all the candy somewhere. On Halloween morning, it was like Christmas because on each table, there was a huge bowl of different types of candy. All the chocolate was gone by the afternoon; it was like the candy hunger games. I’m not kidding. Once again sharing our pumpkins below that the crew and I made to celebrate. You can also see more of the halloween decorations that were in the mess hall in the background. And lastly i wanted to share my family’s small ofrenda we did this year for dia de los muertos since I missed it.  

 

 

 

As mentioned earlier, as we approach the back half of the trip, we need to prepare for the deployment of the big buoy we have on board. It’s enormous, weighing almost 6,000 pounds, and it’s an awkward lift. I attended the first meeting (out of the two we will have) that lasted about an hour, discussing the logistics of safely lifting this massive buoy off the ground. It will undoubtedly be a challenge, and since I’m new, I won’t be part of the lifting team. This means I get to stay warm and watch the entire lift, which promises to be an impressive endeavor. While still attending meetings, ice briefings, and training sessions (including ship safety jeopardy), we performed our first deep CTD cast of the trip. I took part in launching and recovering, as well as keeping an eye on the winch to ensure it didn’t coil in on itself. We went to approximately 3780 meters.

Operations continue every day like clockwork, with each person having their specific role. I usually serve as a line handler for the crane. As we repeat the process, we continue to refine and make changes, and it goes smoothly every time, which has been nice. However, on this second-to-last night before we headed further into the thicker ice and farther north, into the upper 70 degrees North, we encountered a malfunction. We were lowering our AUV over the backside of the ship with our A-frame, and suddenly, the hydraulics malfunctioned, with fluid spraying like a fountain. It seemed that a gasket had frozen and broken. So, we had to halt all operations and check each other to ensure we didn’t have any hydraulic fluid all over us. Everyone was fine, and the captain called for an immediate stop, but we had to get the AUV back over the side and pivot to use the crane instead.

Amidst all these operations, I had a strong desire to learn more about sea ice navigation. I had the opportunity to do a full shift with the chief mate on the bridge, steering the boat, navigating through ice ridges, and learning about sea ice radar reading. It was an incredible experience, as I got to drive a 260 ft polar-class vessel! It’s undoubtedly one of the top 10 life experiences for me. I wish I could share the video because the chief mate started to play Pirates of the Carribean music for me as I was driving the ship. Im at the helm lookng out the window at the spotlights and steering by hand. It was terrifying and awesome. 

 

So, with all the deployments and recoveries we’ve been doing, we knew at some point, the scientific team would conduct their ‘dress rehearsal day’ for their AUVs. We didn’t know exactly when it would happen, but when I woke up (my roommate is a scientist), she told me that ‘today was the day!’ they would pull out all the stops. This was the final test before we headed up north to the upper 70s, where they would launch it, and it would remain under the ice for the entire year. Everyone was in high spirits, thinking we were finally moving closer to one of our last mission objectives before we transit to the upper 70s, drop off everything, and start preparing for the journey home. Little did we know that their dress rehearsal day would turn into the biggest operation of the entire trip, something we hadn’t anticipated. It quickly went downhill.

Their dress rehearsal transformed into something known as the Long Walk. It doesn’t happen often if the ship and crew can help it, but sometimes it’s necessary, as we discovered today.

We found ourselves in a position in the ice where we thought the open water would hold and not completely freeze over, but we were wrong. The ice pressed in from all sides. This wouldn’t normally be a problem, but we had an AUV in the water that we needed to recover. Unfortunately, it became entirely trapped under the ice and was malfunctioning, causing it to swim further and further away from the ship. We couldn’t move too much, risking hitting the AUV. So, we had to wait in the dark on deck and watch as a flickering light under the ice blinked at us, trying to come closer. It was beeping, trying to alert us to its location. It was a distressing sight and the scientists had it beeping as loud as it could, yet we could still barely hear it. The ice was at least 2 feet thick.

In this situation, the only thing we can do is send someone out into the dark to walk on the ice with saws and tools. They would have to cut through the ice to create a hole large enough to clip the AUV to the crane, allowing us to pull both the AUV and the person out. When we realized what was happening, the captain, Bosun, and Chief Mate had to decide who would go out onto the ice to perform this task, and the chief mate volunteered. We had emergency sleds ready for him, lowered over the side. Back-up team members were prepared, suited up in case they needed to go out and assist the chief mate if he fell through the ice or if something worse happened. It took the entire crew and most of the science team to ensure every safety measure was in place, with polar bear guards on alert, before the chief mate descended onto the ice in the pitch-black darkness. When I say pitch-black, I’m not exaggerating; you can’t see anything beyond the ship’s lights. You only hear the crunching and shearing sounds of the ice colliding.

I, once again, served as a line handler, and aided in hoisting his safety equipment over the side of the ship for him to use. Our captain made a final attempt to get as close to the AUV as possible to minimize the chief mate’s walk. The captain’s driving skills were impeccable, and he covered half the distance. The chief mate then climbed over the side of the ship on a metal ladder. As he descended, he reminded everyone of our responsibilities in case he fell through the ice or became trapped beneath it with the strong current in the area.

He ventured over the side, and the entire ship and crew fell completely silent, holding our breaths as he descended the ladder and got on his emergency sled. We turned off our lights, and then we spotted it—the blinking lights of the AUV, trying to break through the ice surface, accompanied by its loud beeping. As a last-ditch effort, the scientists hit the command for the AUV to come home (back to the ship), and miraculously, it worked. The AUV started swimming towards us, and we saw its lights drawing closer. It reached the ship, and we handed down ice picks and spears over the side while our chief mate hammered away at the ice. However, the ice wasn’t breaking; it even broke one of the tools. In a desperate attempt, we dropped the 600-pound crane on it, but it remained unmoved. 

My mentor, Bern, found a huge ice saw in the tool shop, and that did the trick. We finally saw the AUV beneath the ice, but we weren’t done yet. Because of the boat’s position and the strong current, we had to be extremely careful not to hit our chief mate and the AUV with the ship. Our chief mate hooked it and within seconds he  got back onto his sled.  When we heard that click, like a normal procedure, I was attached to the crane hook, ensuring that the hook and the AUV didn’t swing as it was hauled over the side. However, this time, I had never pulled a rope faster in my entire life. I hoisted the AUV back onto the ship, and we finally had it on board. Our chief mate was next, and our captain was there to pull him back to the ship with a safety rope attached to the chief mate. Once the chief mate was close enough, he climbed the ladder and was safely back on board. Cheers erupted from the crew, the scientists, and from the bridge over the radios. We had successfully recovered our chief mate and the AUV together, safe and sound.

The only thing left to do was get the emergency sled back on board. My rope was once again attached to the crane hook, and I hauled the emergency sled back onto the ship. The crew unhooked my rope, and we went back to business as usual, but everyone’s adrenaline was still running high. I couldn’t sleep for a couple of hours, so I kept looking at all the photos and videos of our chief mate on the ice, ive shared a few I have below. In one of the pictures that was taken of the crew watching, you can see me in the back hoisting my fist in the air because our chief mate found the AUV and had broken it free. We had successfully completed an long walk.

 

Now, we’re heading to the upper northern latitudes to complete the last part of the mission—dropping off the AUV and the buoy. We are currently at 75 degrees North and 142 degrees West on our way to do just that, breaking through the ice. Then, we’ll start our journey home. It’s hard to believe it’s almost over. Thanks, as always, for reading.

Mari 

This week has been a bit of a catch-up for both this blog and our preparations for the cruise. Technical issues with the blog site have led me to combine updates for weeks 3 and 4. We’ve officially set sail, leaving port behind as we make our way toward the icy waters of the Arctic. Yay!  My time spent helping with lines and maneuvering the boat in Dutch Harbor however has been invaluable practice, especially in the challenging weather conditions: Hail, Rain, Sleet (you name it we had it).

This picture below (left) is the culprit and was the cause of all our problems. The other picture (right) is a picture of us lowering the engine part down from the top deck to the engine room 6 floors below us.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As we head further north, the darkness of the Arctic winter settles in. Week 3 marked the farewell to our last day of real sunshine, and we know we won’t see a clear blue sky and sunlight like that again until we complete our mission objectives and depart from the Arctic Circle in mid/late November. Below is the last picture I got of the sun. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now that we’re en route to the ice, the real work begins, and our daily routines fall into place. Each morning, I start my day by working with OLEX, our ship navigation software, to update routes, locations, and schedules, while keeping a close eye on our course. I also check and log data for our underway sea water systems, pumps and flows to ensure everything is running smoothly. Additionally, I utilize the 3D printer to produce various parts and equipment as needed. Cataloging and maintaining our technical equipment is another crucial part of my responsibilities. We regularly conduct CTD casts, using our handy CTD system, and present the resulting data to the scientists to aid them in their work. Toward the end of the day, I assist the first engineer with any additional tasks that may arise. Recently, I had the chance to fabricate and carve parts out of aluminum for the sea gliders that the scientists needed. There’s always something to do, and I thoroughly enjoy it. 

 

We’ve (being the marine technicians) encountered our fair share of technical challenges, such as fixing the Gravity meter by replacing the gyro, crucial for maintaining balance as the ship moves. Interestingly, the technology we use has connections to missile guidance systems, which was a fascinating discovery. We also had the daunting task of fixing our ice radar, just as we are getting underway. In between these big marine technician projects, our daily schedule is filled with ice briefings, boat fire/evac drills, and safety meetings.

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

 

 

 One briefing brought news of a potential change to our trip’s destination due to the extended time we spent in port for engine repairs. Originally planned to end in Nome, Alaska, we may now need to consider Seward, Alaska, as the dock in Nome might be frozen over by the time we return later in the winter. The final decision is still pending, and we find ourselves uncertain about our position next month. 

While we do have quite a bit of work to do, it’s important to find moments to relax and unwind. During my downtime, I’ve been enjoying various activities with the crew. We’ve been watching football, engaging in ‘friendly’ Mario Kart competitions (the engineering boys are really competitive), and indulging in scary movie nights with all the candy you can eat. In fact, we even managed to carve pumpkins, injecting a touch of seasonal festivity into our journey.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I am writing this we are at 74 degrees 53.799’N and 150 degrees 39.407’W and recovering gliders. I am officially writing to everyone from the top of the world, we finally made it. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

See y’all next week and to those who celebrate, happy all hallows eve, samhain, dia de los muertos, etc. 

 

 Mari  

 

During Week 2, the old scientist group officially had left to make way for the new arrivals in Dutch Harbor for the AMOS cruise. I settled into a marine tech routine, delving into the ship’s depths to clean filters, prepare the CTD for the upcoming cruise, check the niskin bottles, polish fridges, and set up the lab space for the science party. I even assisted in fixing a fume hood, an entirely new experience for me; I was feeling like a handyman onboard.

After a day of work, one of my mentors, Bern, took me into town to show me around and buy a mustang suit, although it turned out to be the wrong size. Instead, we ended up driving around the town to explore and visit attractions, such as the old Russian church and the beautiful World War II memorials and Coast Guard graveyards. It was an enjoyable day, but while in the graveyard, Bern accidentally stepped on a marble grave shaped like a book with a beautiful poem on it, which belonged to a woman named Jacqueline. Strangely, moments later, as we descended the mountain towards the car, I heard a ‘yelp!’ and turned around to see my 6’4 mentor with his entire leg stuck in a hole in the ground. I couldn’t help but wonder if Jacqueline might have been upset with him, though I’m not superstitious, just a little stitious. I made him apologize, and everything turned out fine.

Back on the ship, we learned that one of our engines was no longer working, and the science party was arriving, along with my other mentor. We were possibly going to be stuck in Dutch Harbor for at least a week or more while we ordered spare parts for the engine, and a major storm with potential 80mph winds was approaching. Despite these challenges, the engineers worked tirelessly to diagnose the engine issue and prepared to replace it.

While all this was happening, the crew and the rest of us who were temporarily stuck had some free time once our shifts ended. I explored the town with the crew, visited a saloon, went hiking, took walks around the town, enjoyed milkshakes, and indulged in my favorite pastime—visiting Alaska Dutch Harbor Supplies to check out the cool gear for sale. I ended up buying a vest, which I’m quite fond of. For those who know me, please don’t judge; my other vest had ripped, and this carhartt vest is incredibly warm.

I experienced my first Friday the 13th on a boat, and superstition prevailed as no operations were conducted that day. Good luck favored me though as I finally got my mustang suit, which would keep me warm and cozy in the icy conditions.

The setback with the engine allowed the science party time to refine their instruments, make necessary adjustments, and conduct numerous tests in the bay over the last two days. Surprisingly, this delay turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as all the instruments were now primed and ready for deployment in the ice. Confidence was at an all-time high, and witnessing the AUV deployments and recoveries was a fascinating experience. I’ve included another set of pictures from my onshore adventures exploring the islands and practice deployments and recoveries. If the engine gets fixed next week, we should finally be on our way to the ice. Fingers crossed. Thank you for reading, and see you next week!

 

Mari

On the morning of October 4th, I was awakened at 6 am in the Aurora Inn, Nome, Alaska, by our electrician and another technician. We were eager to check the weather and the status of the R/V Sikuliaq, our research vessel, but the fog, wind, and bad weather were definitely not in our favor. We couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the boat on the horizon. With no Wi-Fi in the hotel, we headed to the Polar Cub Café down the street to get online and see if there were any updates. Plus, the café provided a partial view of the dock, where we hoped to spot the ship.

(Sidenote: While at the café, the mooring technician and I almost ordered reindeer meat by mistake. That would have been an adventure.) Despite our efforts and waiting another hour, the boat remained pretty elusive in the fog. We made another attempt to reach it, riding in mud-covered vans (my first time, their second) but the boat still hadn’t arrived. But, we were greeted by a pleasant surprise: we saw beluga whales near the dock, at least four of them! I considered this unexpected wildlife encounter and the $13 spent on the trip definitely worthwhile. 

Returning to the Aurora Inn, we waited patiently for another couple hours, with periodic updates. Finally, the fog started to dissipate and sunlight came out and we spotted the ship approaching the dock from our inn’s windows. The electrician stayed behind to finish some work, but the other technician and I seized the opportunity on our third try. With bags in tow and maneuvering through mud, we embarked on the sketchiest thing I’d ever seen—a 30-foot moving ladder on wheels. It transported us safely onto the boat however. 

Once on board, I quickly took a rapid COVID test and met with my contact, who introduced me to my living quarters and explained my daily responsibilities. The entire ordeal, from our early morning start to boarding, had taken us until around 2 pm. I was ravenous, and my lunch of steak, mac and cheese, and orange juice tasted like the best meal in the world. To cap off the day, I joined the third mate in watching the end of “Young Frankenstein,” which I found hilarious. It was a great first day, and I was relieved to have finally made it on board. My room even had a large porthole, allowing me to enjoy the breathtaking Alaskan sunrises and sunsets.

I had heard rumors of the great food on the ship, and the next morning, October 5th, I eagerly looked forward to breakfast. I was not disappointed. The breakfast tacos with egg, sausage, black beans, and enchilada sauce were the best I’d ever had. I also indulged in steak with scrambled eggs, hash browns, and bacon. It had been a long time since I’d eaten like that, and to make matters worse, the food was unlimited throughout the day. I’m pretty sure I’ve gained a pound or two already from all the fresh blueberry pies, scones, cookies, and snacks.

The following days, the 5th, 6th, and 7th, passed quickly after my initial day. I focused on learning my responsibilities and familiarizing myself with boat procedures, including reading numerous SOPs and safety manuals, studying schematics, and completing paperwork. I had the chance to flush out the CTD, replace some pilons, and work with instrumentation in the ship’s bowels to prepare for the science party. Learning to identify alarms and sounds for irregularities was crucial in the rough seas, and I certainly earned my sea legs. Occasionally, I would visit the bridge to gaze at the horizon, and on my second day, as Los Lonely Boys’ “How Far Is Heaven” played, it felt fitting to witness such a stunning sunrise.

As we sailed toward Dutch Harbor, south of Nome in the Aleutian Islands, the weather warmed, and the snow became less prevalent. Currently, we are offloading gear in Dutch Harbor in preparation for the arrival of the next science party on the 10th, just two days from now. I’m excited to meet them, as I’ve read papers from almost everyone who will be on board. While I probably won’t confess that i’m a huge fan, internally, I’ll be freaking out.

This cruise primarily focuses on deploying and testing an AMOS ice-gateway buoy (heavy), or IGBH, equipped with different ocean and engineering sensors, as well as deploying, operating, and testing an Arctic-capable REMUS 600 AUV. We will also be recovering up to five SGX engineering gliders deployed from an earlier research vessel, the R/V Healy, earlier in the season. Additional glider deployments may also be on the agenda. Lastly, we will conduct over nine shipboard deep CTD casts.

This first week of the trip is really about preparation for the weeks to come, so I will be doing a big photo dump on this post of my little adventures in Nome (aka looking at all the old gold mining equipment), my work station, bridge views, etc. with whatever I have in my camera at the moment. I’ll document my experiences throughout the trip with photos and videos of all the fun things I’ll get to do listed above.

Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for more updates.

Mari 🙂

Hello!

 

My name is Marisol Figueroa, but everyone calls me Mari! I am currently a graduate student in the physical oceanography lab at Moss Landing Marine Labs in Moss Landing, CA. I study internal waves, wind, and biogeochemistry in the nearshore at the mouth of the Monterey Bay Submarine Canyon. I am going to graduate/defend in Fall 2023 and am looking forward to going on this cruise and starting the next part of my scientific journey.

I have been given the opportunity to join the R/V Sikuliaq research cruise to the Arctic with the University of Alaska, Fairbanks and I am beyond excited. I am using this internship as a launching point to get more into the fields of marine technology and ocean engineering as I want to continue in this field as a future career.

Well, my adventures aboard the Sikuliaq have finally come to an end. The story of our shakedown cruise and my last week on board was extremely eventful, to say the least. I’ll start back in Portland, before we set sail for Newport. We took on a bunch of science crew from OSU, Woods Hole, and the USCGC Healy, who were observing our science ops and sensor calibrations. We were all ready to set sail Wednesday morning; full fuel tanks, stores loaded, seasickness pills take…and then the car didn’t start. For some reason, on of our thrusters decided that it didn’t want to turn on, so we were stuck on the pier for the time being. The engineers worked all day and all night to find the problem and get us moving, but the problem was a little more devious than anybody thought, and eventually they had to admit defeat and call in the big guns. The company who manufactured the motors, Siemens, sent out a tech to help us get up and running again. We were all excited to finally get moving again, until we heard that the tech had lost all of his tools and test equipment at the airport. Seriously, Murphy’s law was having a field day with us. Despite all the setbacks we had experienced, the tech finally made it, and he and the engineers worked their butts off to get our motors functional again. 

While the crew were working to get us underway, the science party was busy getting familiar with the ship and all of the cool toys we have to offer. The other marine techs and I spent hours each day showing them all the different sensors and machinery that Sikuliaq uses to support research. It went much faster at the pier than it would have at sea, so by the time we were ready to set sail again, everyone was ready to jump right into the fun stuff. 

We set sail on the afternoon of Saturday the 19th, and we jumped right into the sensor calibrations. The ship anchored next to the shipyard, and at 5 pm, we started the calibration for our EK 80 Echosounder. Described by the techs as a “super powerful fish finder”, the ship uses it to locate biomass under the ship. It has a very narrow beam, so to calibrate it, we suspended a small metal ball under the ship using three fishing reels, and moved it until it was directly under the sensor array. Once it was in place, we had to move the ball around so it could get pinged across the sensor’s entire beam. We had to move it by reeling the three fishing reels in or out, and we could only see the ball on the sensor itself, so it was tricky trying to get it to go where we wanted to. The entire sensor is actually an array of smaller sensors, which meant that there were several different frequencies that needed to be done individually. From getting the ball in place to getting enough pings on the calibration ball, it took on average around 2 hours to finish one of these. In addition, on our last calibration, the lines kept getting tangled on debris on the bottom of the river, so it took even loger to get the ball in place. By the time we finished, it was 8 am, and none of us had slept. Despite this, we had finished the calibration, and luckily we had the entire trip upriver to catch up on sleep. 

Once we reached the ocean, we sailed out to several deep sites to run our multibeam sonar and to calibrate and commision the new 38 kHz ADCP that we had installed. This was a little less involved than the EK 80, so we just had to monitor the data coming into the computer lab while the ship did laps across the sensor sites. Also, you’ll remember that we had to rebuilt the CTD a few weeks ago. This means we also had to do a couple CTD casts to make sure everything was up to spec.

Here’s a picture of our second CTD cast. You can see the light from one of the fluorometers attached to the sensor array on the bottom. 

Ironically, even though we left port days behind schedule, we managed to get all of our work done and finish the cruise exactly on time. The fact that we were able to get everyone up to speed about the different equipment on board while we were stuck in Portland probably helped us get everything done much faster than we otherwise would have. However, our speed is mostly due to the fact that everyone worked incredibly hard to get everything done. I haven’t seen so much disregard for a proper sleep schedule since midterms last fall, and seeing the commitment everyone had for the work was truly inspiring. 

My time on Sikuliaq was really something special. I learned so much about so many different things that my brain hurts just a little with everything stuffed into it. Everyone I worked with was incredibly smart and each one of them taught me something new every day I was there. I’d like to give a shoutout to Ethan, Carmen, Bern, and Dan for dealing with all my questions and helping me be the best I could be during my time onboard. I’m really going to miss working with you guys. Now it’s time for me to get back into school mode and get back to normal, so I’ll say goodbye. If any of you reading are interested in anything I’ve talked about, I would encourage you to apply for a MATE internship and try it out. It’s definitely a unique experience, but it’s one of the most fun things I’ve ever done.

Well, we’re finally here. After a month in the shipyard getting disassembled and reassembled almost daily, the ship is ready to get back out to sea. The whole crew has been working hard to get everything cleaned up and ready to go for this shakedown cruise. The deck department repainted the deck this week, the engineers refueled the ship yesterday, and the marine techs got all of our onboard sensors up and running again. All the different observers and technicians coming on the cruise came onboard today, so we’re finally ready to leave port. That should happen tommorow morning, after a few last minute things that still need to happen.

I’ve spent the last week with the marine techs finishing up preparations for the cruise. We’re going to be using this trip to recalibrate all of our sensors, as well as test and commission the new ones we put in this winter. It will take us about 8 days to sail from Portland to Newport. We have to sail offshore about 200 miles to several deep spots to get the depth needed to calibrate our sensors. After we’ve made sure that everything is up to snuff, the ship will dock in Newport and start going on science cruises for the year.

Since we were able to finish up all of our shipyard projects really fast this year, I spent a lot of ime this week working on a project that I got before coming onboard. As I said in my first blog, I study naval architecture and marine engineering, so during my time here, I’ve spent a lot of time studying all the different machinery systems and the design of the vessel. I’ve had to draw a lot of different schematics and plans for the ship, and it’s helped me learn about the ship so much faster than I otherwise would have. Even though Sikiuliaq is a relatively small ship, it’s built to handle a really harsh life, so every system onboard is much more complicated than I thought it would be. Even though having to trace all the different systems and hunt down all the information I could about the ship was really difficult, having an insight into how everything runs and fits together was really cool as I went about my duties every day. 

To end on another happy note, another effect of finishing all our work early was that my mom got to come up to Portland on monday. I got to show her all around the ship and everything I’ve been working on, which was cool, especially since she’s never been on board before. I’m glad I was able to hang around the city with her for a while before we set out to sea. Here’s a picture of mom being really excited to come onboard.

I will post my last blog after we get in to port next week. I’ve heard that the weather will make this trip almost as memorable as our last one.. See you all then.

Breaths were held, bets were placed, and prayers were uttered last Friday as we got ready to float free. In all honesty, maybe it wasn’t as dramatic a moment as it felt like, but it was still pretty important. We had been working on the ship for a couple weeks, and it seemed like we had opened up every possible place water could leak in. Not to say that a loose bolt would have sunk the ship (Knock on wood; stranger things have happened), but it still would have been a massive pain to lift the ship back up and fix anything that went wrong. Luckily for us, the worst part about the undocking was that it started at 4:30 in the morning. Because we started early, the undocking finished pretty early, and I spent the rest of the day working on 3D printing a new soldering tray for the tech department. 

Since we went back in the water, everyone has been getting the ship ready to go back to sea. One of our biggest concerns has been getting the CTD back up and running. Carmen, one of the other techs, and I spent an entire day rebuilding the CTD sensor array. It was really interesting to see how every sensor is connected to each other and how it’s able to collect so much data. It took the two of us another whole day to get the CTD cable ready to use. Remember how we had to take the cable off the drum to lube it? To do that, we had to cut the end off, which meant losing the connection to the CTD. Luckily, the cable terminations need to be redone every few months anyway, so this gave us a good opportunity. The cable actually needed two separate terminations: one mechanical, to support the CTD and deploy it, and one electrical, to relay telemetry from the sensors to the computer lab. The electrical termination was a relatively simple matter of soldering the wires in the cable to a connector. The mechanical connection was more tricky. It works by securing a bullet-shaped piece of metal to the wire with several steel coils wrapped around it. A housing is then attached over this piece, which prevents it from moving along the cable, allowing it to hold weight without slipping. Needless to say, nothing is simpler than on paper, so actually attaching the termination was rather difficult. The metal coils didn’t want to cooperate, and it took some artful maneuvering with a lever to get them in place. Beyond that, the threads in part of the housing had become damaged, and it wasnt until we had taken the whole thing apart that we figured it out. It was frustrating, but we got it, and we all learned a lot more about terminating a cable.

The CTD was the big job this week, and it still needs to get wrapped up. Other than that, this week has been light. I designed some parts for the centerboard and cleaned out the science fridge spaces, but our shipyard work is wrapping up. We set sail in exactly one week, so I’ll check in before that.

As I recall, I promised an update on the ADCP install in my last blog post, so I’ll start off with that. To save you all from 30 seconds of laborious clicking to remind youself what our problems were, I’ll throw in a quick recap from last week. We put the new sonar in, which went swimmingly, but when we connected the cable that would connect the sensor to our computer lab, the connecter was barely too big to fit in the housing. Luckily, barely too big is better than regular too big, and it let us resort to the tried and true cheat solution of stuffing it in and hoping it doesn’t break. Despite our worries, it did fit, although the cable got bent a little more than we would have liked. It seems to work, but we’ll see when we float the ship and finally turn it on.

Anyway, finishing the ADCP project means that we completed all of our big projects for shipyards, so we’ve shifted to tackling all of the small things that got shoved aside when we drydocked. When we first got to the yard, I uninstalled a small sonar sensor from the centerboard. For some reason, using the sensor was causing the metal rods holding it in place to corrode instead of the sacrificial anode. We figured that 3D printing new rods would stop this from occuring. At first, it seemed like a genius idea, but designing and printing these rods was deceptively difficult. Each rod needed to have threaded holes on both end, but taking the support material out of the piece usually caused us to ruin the threads instead. It took us a while to figure out, but eventually the solution we used was to insert metal springs, which act as threads, into the holes. Usually these springs are used for repairing damaged threads, but it works, so I’m not going to complain. Our other centerboard project was a little easier. The centerboard isn’t watertight, and since it fills with water anyway, we wanted to use it as another intake for our seawater systems. However, the only inlets for water were two tiny holes, so we took off two hatches from the centerboard and had them turned into grates for better water flow. Although it wasn’t as big as the cable spooling or the ADCP install, the centerboard project has been going on for a while, and finally wrapping it up was very satisfying. 

Finally, we can move on to our other task this week. All of the sensors mounted to the bottom of the ship are covered by ice windows to protect them from getting damaged during cruises in the arctic. These windows are big, heavy sheets of polycarbonate, and they do a fantastic job of blocking ice. However, they’re not watertight, and being flooded for years at a time means that they tend to get a little dirty. And by a little dirty, I mean covered in a thick layer of really gross mud. So we spent several days taking down every ice window and giving each of them a much needed cleaning. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, especially once we appropriated the shipyard’s pressure washer for our cause. 

Those are the important things we covered this week. There’s also been a bunch of even smaller projects going on, but we’re all just waiting for the ship to float again so we can start some new fun things. That’s supposed to be this Friday, but we’ll see when we actually get to go back in the water.