Category: Vessel/Laboratory Page 7 of 89

My second week on the Healy! And still no science- mostly. Our long, long transit nears conclusion, but we’re still in the scientific doldrums. Thus far the science party’s just been preparing their equipment, although a couple small buoys have been literally tossed over the side with zero fanfare. If this sounds unenthralling, it’s anything but.

WE’RE IN THE BERING STRAIT!!! The last few days in the Bering Sea have been beautiful. Not clear, but the reflection of the hazy sun on gray waters turns the sea into quicksilver, and if you’ve read my last blog post, then you know how I feel about the nights here. Looking over the prow, I can see fat puffins failing to get airborne as they half flap, half flail away from the ship. Moon jellies, lion’s mane, and sea nettle jellyfish zoom by us just below the ocean’s surface with surprising frequency.

This morning we passed Nome, and I’ve been watching OpenCPN, which tracks our ship, as we neared the Diomedes and the narrowest stretch of sea in our journey north. We were still ten miles away when Brendon encouraged me to look on deck. I bundled up, and was astounded to see Little Diomede to our port side, Big Diomede peering out of the gloom behind it. We’re quickly entering fog, but the haze only consumed the island tops in that moment. Fairway Rock, or Ugiiyaq, south of the Diomedes, shone in a runaway beam of sunlight.

Although it’s been four years since I moved to Alaska, the sense of wonderment still hasn’t eased. Climbing frozen waterfalls, watching Denali’s shadow piece the clouds during sunset, or even just dodging a moose on campus strikes me with awe and disbelief, with a Wow! I’m really in Alaska!

I got that sense as I stood on the flight deck, the last retreating rays of golden sun giving the world a hazy, heavenly feel. Disbelief at where I’ve come in life, from the dry desert, and immense gratitude to everyone who encouraged and helped me get here. I wished they could join me as I stood on the edge of the world, sailing farther north than dreams could reach. These Wow! I’m really going to the Arctic! feelings strike every time I step out on deck, and I treasure this experience and everything it offers.

And while the science party waits in anticipation for our approach to their sites, STARC has been active: troubleshooting, repairing, and, for me, getting the hang of things. Our CTD checklist is complete. Niskins have been re-gasketing, springs re-tensioned, bottles re-placed when nothing else worked. Brandon (not Brendon) walked me through the tech of the CTD, and him, Cora and I teamed up for a final blitz, rewiring and reattaching sensors.

An attempt at a polar bear I crocheted out of scrap wool for Cora. Omen of things to come?

We also tackled disassembling the multicore a few days ago. Unfortunately, the multicoring aspect of this cruise was cancelled last minute, but the multicore was already assembled on deck. It sat there like a giant spider on the back deck, gray and mourning the Arctic sediment it wouldn’t collect, for a week or so before we decided it was time to take it apart. Brandon, Cora, me and the deck crew attacked it in a flurry of activity one calm morning, and within a couple hours it was was returned to its coffin-like wooden storage boxes. I’ve done a lot of sample collected from multicores, so it was cool to get familiar with the hardware itself.

Goodbye, multicore! It was nippy out so I broke out my froglaclava. / *Cora McQuaid*

I’ve been getting familiar with the sonars lately, watching as a land based technician remotely battles the EK80, a bottom-finding sonar determined to freeze when synced externally with other sonars. I read a short manual for our multibeam, but mostly have been playing with the Knudsen Echosounder, which gives a two-dimensional profile of the seafloor as we pass over. On a previous cruise, I’ve used it (as in watched, while a martech adjusted the settings) to make crisp sub-bottom profiles, but at our high speeds, when it isn’t the primary sonar, the Knudsen doesn’t look so great. So much so, in fact, that Brendon was concerned something was wrong- maybe heave compensation? Brandon and I traced the “serial string data” of the ship’s heave all the way to the Seapath 330, one of the positioning programs, but couldn’t find an error, and we were finally forced to admit it’s probably just our speed, and the fact the Knudsen doesn’t do to well in the shallow, muddy Bering. We won’t be here much longer, and I look forward to learning the sonar settings in deeper waters- and ice!

Onward north! Cheers, Wil

A Familiar Silhouette – 13 – Micah B.

By Micah Barton

On September 9, 2025

In Host, Louisiana Universities Marine Consortium, R/V Point Sur, Vessel/Laboratory

And just like that folks, we’re back at it again! This time, I hopped aboard a flight headed for Gulfport, Mississippi! The flash temperature change from the arctic to the deep south has me feeling like a defrosting lizard, but that won’t stop me!

Ahh, what a lovely sight- I finally get to join the boat from a pier this time! My previous two journeys started with a smallboat ride and a sketchy climb up the Jacob’s ladder. This is the R/V Point Sur. Though I have not sailed on this ship before, I am all too familiar with it. The R/V Cape Hatteras, the ship I sailed on for my education, is an exact copy of the Point Sur; sister ships! It feels familiar and foreign all at once.

Work had already begun by the time I arrived. The crew was set about fabricating some metal mounting gear for the equipment that the scientists had brought on board. Crew member Todd will be wielding an oxyacetylene torch, ready for action!

The night is always young onboard a ship. As many people went off ship for dinner, I stayed behind to get settled in properly. No later than everyone left, an engine room alarm began blaring! I found this light blinking red, and sent a message out to the responsible parties. All was well, but you have to stay on your toes at all times! There is truly no telling when things can go downhill.

This cruise is focused on ROV operations. The remotely operated vehicle (ROV) will be sent to the seafloor, to collect samples and take a look around the area. Deep sea corals are the main focus for their research!

On the deck, you can see the configuration of their gear; Left is the ROV, which is attached to the yellow tether line. On the right, you have a weight package that is sent to the bottom to help control and sense the ROV. All three of these pieces are deployed together and work in tandem to complete the dive!

Our last night in port gave us a lovely sunset as we made our final preparations for sailing out to sea. We set our ‘sails’ out at exactly midnight, for a somber march out of the bay. Leaving behind the glow of the city for the inky black of the open ocean. It’s good to be back out at sea.

No time for poetry, you have a steaming plate of cable spaghetti to deal with! As an older ship, there are many bygone years of outdated technology being replaced. In the process of revitalizing the equipment, some cables get… let’s just say left behind! We installed some new monitors on the bridge for the captain to keep tabs on the ship, which meant running HDMI cables to each one of them. Many hours spent detangling, and the monitors are up and running perfectly.

Another facet of science on this trip is EDNA. Using the fancy gizmos and gadgets you see attached to our CTD, the scientists can extract environmental DNA from the water. Meaning, they can tell what critters went through the water! They can compare this data with ROV footage.

Speaking of ROV footage! Once the ROV was deployed and settled on the bottom, the real work began. Many eyes spent many hours watching the continuous stream of video. An incredible sight to behold! On it’s first descent to the seafloor, around 500 meters down, we landed right near this handsome fella- I have roughly identified it as a Gulf Hake, or Urophycis cirrata. I am by no means a biologist, but that is my semi-educated guess!

The ROV had just lighted onto the seafloor, when the operators noticed something was amiss. The systems weren’t operating as they should, and the team made the executive decision to recover immediately. Unfortunately, their suspicion was well met. A connection point on one of the attached components failed, meaning it completely flooded with water. This melted all of the components and wiring on the inside, which is something that is not repairable at sea.

After a few brainstorming sessions, adjustments to the ROV, and more than a couple prayers, the team found a temporary solution. The ROV was set up excluding the flooded components, which makes it usable but with greatly reduced function. Though it is less than ideal, it does at least mean the cruise can continue rather than heading back to port immediately.

On the second dive, the ROV was able to collect a few small coral samples and bring them back to the surface. The ‘arm’ you see pictured has an apposable hand that can be controlled from the ship, and a little container to drop samples into.

My mentor for this trip, Grace, instructed me during the first few CTD casts, and trusted me to operate the computer for the next one! Though I may have forgotten to take off my hardhat, we successfully recovered another batch of water samples. The water we bring up will be used for sampling and for storing the live coral recovered with the ROV.

During this cast, we found that bottle #9 did not close at all, meaning it came back completely empty. We investigated, and determined the bottle to be operating smoothly. The next step was to ensure that the firing mechanism worked! We disassembled the housing, and found corrosion on the magnet responsible for releasing the lid of bottle nine. A quick scrape removed the corroded material, and a deck test proved that the issue was solved. Huzzah! If only every problem was so simple…

Yikes… This is the interior of the flooded compartment from the ROV. As it turns out, delicate electronics don’t like saltwater! This not so simple problem could not be solved while offshore, as the parts and personnel necessary are simply not on board. A integral part of working at sea is repairing what you can, and working around what you can’t!

Even with some non functioning parts, the ROV process is still well underway. After each deployment and recovery, the science team jumps into action. They remove the sample compartments from the ROV housing as quickly as possible, as coral is extremely sensitive to temperature fluctuations, and they want their samples live. Once they are inside, they separate the samples into individual holding spaces, full of fresh seawater saved from the most recent CTD cast. These tubs go directly into a refrigerator, where the temperature is set to the same as their natural environment. It’s cold in the deep sea! This gives the animals the best possible chance at survival for testing and studying.

Oh hey, I know her! During ROV operations, my job has been between operating the A frame, and adding tension to the winch wire (pictured). This ensures the wire spools correctly, and makes every elses lives a bit easier. Well, my first week on the Point Sur has been busy and very exciting! I’ll be out here getting grease everywhere and pulling the line tight, while the scientists decipher hours of ROV footage; I know you’re jealous, but fear not! There is to be a public broadcast from the ROV team. Please join us to see some of the action live!

Deep Sea Corals – YouTube Live Video

Thursday, September 11th, 2pm central/3pm eastern

Micah Barton – 09/09/2025 – God Bless

Wade: Week 1

By Katie Wade

On September 8, 2025

In R/V Atlantis, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution

I just wrapped up my first week with the Alvin Team, and it’s been amazing in more ways than one. Upon arriving in Oregon, I finally got to meet the team in person. Everyone has been wonderfully patient and kind, showing me the ropes of both their operations and, of course, the engineering behind Alvin. I also met the crew of the RV Atlantis during a Labor Day picnic and cookout they hosted on the dock before we set sail.

This week, I was introduced to the sub and its critical systems. Since Alvin hadn’t been operated for about a month, we spent three days on maintenance, which I was able to observe and help with when possible. Some of the tasks I participated in included ensuring pressure compensation in the junction boxes and tubing that house communication cables, pressure testing the check valves on the main and variable ballast systems, and installing the seawater filter for the variable ballast. I also learned how the team inventories and stores spare parts, as well as the strict protocols for replacing them. Their attention to detail is remarkable—every component must meet precise standards, and even the slightest thread damage can make a part unsuitable for dive operations. I also witnessed the installation process of the batteries; they provide 120 volts to the sub. We rolled out Alvin to expose a hatch between the tracks in the hangar that allows access to the hold where the batteries are stored and maintained. The batteries were lifted into the sub using hydraulics.

In preparation for the first engineering dive, I helped remove the coral-cutting claw from the robotic arm and replace it with a three-pronged gripper more suitable for this expedition, collecting high-temperature water samples at hydrothermal vents. We also held the “weight party,” where we stacked steel plates to aid Alvin’s descent on the Juan de Fuca Ridge. Unfortunately, our first dive was canceled after a recovery buoy detached from a Canadian mooring line. Since we were nearby, the RV Atlantis was asked to recover it, which we did.

Even so, I’ve already learned so much about plumbing and mechanics in just one week, and I’m excited to see the data and pictures that Alvin collects after all our dives are complete!

Katie

Aidan Lee – Week 1

By Aidan Lee

On September 7, 2025

In R/V Atlantis, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution

Week 1 is already over, and it still feels kind of surreal to be out here. There have been so many exciting things and interesting people that I’ve encountered that it’s difficult to recount them all in one post without boring everyone who reads this, so I’ll show the most important things.

I met up with the Alvin team after flying down to Portland from Seattle, where we drove down to Newport where the Atlantis was docked together as a group. When we got there, I got to take a quick tour of the premises. As someone who’s never been on a research vessel, the Atlantis felt pretty average from the outside but was way bigger on the inside – rooms and halls were pretty spacious to move around in. Onboard amenities were much more fleshed-out than I thought they would be (there was a punching bag in the science hold?!), and the galley cooks up meals way better than I ever did in my entire college career. Shoutout to the cooks who greet me by name every meal.

I WILL be wailing on this punching bag during my time off

As for the HOV Alvin itself, it was also pretty big – maybe the size of a small whale or an orca perhaps. During our pre-cruise maintenance and housekeeping work I got to walk around the top of the sub and climb into the sphere where the pilot sits. Alvin recently got a refitting recently with an ergonomic seating area, and I have to say it was decently comfortable in there.

Me with the HOV Alvin in the upper portion of the hangar.

This is one of the submarines of all time.

Most of my work on the sub has been checking in on little things like searching for air or water bubbles in the tubes of oil inside the HOV or draining said oil from junction boxes in the front so that we can wire scientific instruments to the electronics systems. I helped with loading provisions and stores to feed us during the cruise onto the ship and checked the windows on the sub for scratches or blemishes. The two most exciting events that I helped out with were replacing one of the fridge-sized lead acid batteries and distributing and stacking steel plates which will eventually be used for ballasting.

To access the batteries in the first place, we had to move Alvin forward in its hangar to operate a crane that would open the hatch in the floor that led to the room with the battery in it, which was process that took a little time to complete. The battery that was supposed to go into the Alvin didn’t come with a casing on it, so part of our duties during the pre-cruise was to get the casing off the old battery and slide it onto the new one – main issue being that the casing is basically filled with oil. One aspect of this job I learned very quickly was that literally everything is covered in oil since it helps mitigate the effects of pressure in the deep ocean, and that I should give up on the prospect of having any unstained clothes on this cruise.

One of Alvin’s lead acid batteries returning to its designated slot via hydraulic lift.

The stacked steel plates are used for the sub used as ballast to control its buoyancy underwater, and it dives down or resurfaces by jettisoning some amount of these steel plates that we attach to it. As such, we had to prepare several stacks since every dive would have at least 3 stacks of plates weighing more than 300 pounds per stack. Picking up these rusty steel plates all morning was a decent workout for my forearms. I also got rust all over my clothes, but I brought all the clothes whose safety I didn’t care about so it was expected. It’s for that grimy mechanical engineer aesthetic anyway.

Fellow MATE intern and coworkers chatting during the weight party.

We left Newport yesterday on the 5th. Due to the size of the vessel the boat rocks pretty slowly, which is nice to fall asleep to but kind of annoying when you’re doing fine, detailed work with small instruments and tiny probes. It’s better than the smaller boats I’ve been on though. Seeing the vast expanse of water on every side of you with nothing to keep you company except the ship and the gray clouds overhead feels kind of surreal. Liminal, even.

I lied about that last part, actually. There were other things keeping us company – there was a massive pod of dolphins that swam up to the ship as it was traveling to our dive site, and they were just frolicking and being silly on either side of the ship and under the bow, racing the ship and jumping around. We guessed that they were Pacific white-sided dolphins based on their coloring and our location. Genuinely one of the most breathtaking experiences I’ve ever had.

My poor attempts at capturing the moment.

I’ve been having a lot of fun the last few days, and I expect to have even more fun when we actually get around to Alvin dives tomorrow. It’s around 9pm when I post this, and I do have to wake up at 5am for deployment preparations, so I’m going to leave it at that for the time being. Will update next week.

Aidan

Wade: Introduction

By Katie Wade

On August 30, 2025

In Host, R/V Atlantis, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution

Hello everyone! I’m Katie Wade, a recent Ocean Engineering graduate from the Florida Institute of Technology. Soon I’ll be heading to Oregon to join the WHOI Alvin Team on the RV Atlantis for a research cruise along the Juan de Fuca Ridge, where I’ll be working as a Mechanical Engineering Intern.

I grew up in Merritt Island, Florida, which fostered a deep love, respect, and curiosity for the ocean. For me, nothing beats a day on the water, so I’ve always hoped to blend fieldwork into my career. I never expected that pursuit would lead to such an incredible adventure—I’m deeply grateful to the Alvin Team and the MATE Program for this opportunity.

During my undergrad, I spent two years at the Center for Corrosion and Biofouling Control (CCBC), where I worked in a multidisciplinary environment that deepened my understanding of how marine life intersects with engineering. I also helped design and build an ROV as part of a team project, which inspired me to pursue underwater robotics. So, I’m excited to continue growing both my ecological knowledge and technical skills on this cruise to become a better engineer!

Here are some pictures of me with other students from the CCBC and working on deck the RV Hogarth during a marine field project last summer.

Talk soon!

2: The Void of Night – Wil K

By Wil Kleiner

On August 28, 2025

In Ship-based Technical Support in the Arctic (STARC) Team, USCGC Healy

Hello from the Bering Sea! I’m breaking from my weekly update plan to monologue a little bit about the quiet beauty of the ocean and the little things that make being at sea an experience like no other.

I’m in the process of waking up earlier and earlier to adjust to my 6 AM – 6 PM shift, and this is the first morning I wake up and start my shift before breakfast. I haven’t quite figured out a direct indoor route from the stateroom I share with Cora to the STARC computer lab, so I usually step out on deck and descend a stairway that feels more like a ladder to the correct deck. This early in the morning, the sun hasn’t risen yet, and it’s completely dark. The Healy goes dark at night, which means no outdoor floodlights or illuminated walkways save for dim red lamps, which are so subtle it feels like my approach to the lab relies more on muscle memory. The ship is enveloped in fog, blocking any moon or starlight or reflection from the seawater, and as I descend the staircase, the inky blackness might as well be space. And I, my center of gravity rising and falling as the ship heaves through the waves, could be floating out there in the vacuum.

An animation I made on a previous cruise.

Even in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness or Arizona desert, the darkest night is a cramped storage closet, full of leaves or sand or small creatures or just life compared to the sense of pure emptiness you get in the sea at night. It’s a feeling of complete aloneness, utter freedom, where it feels like the borders of reality are a little bit fuzzy, and maybe we’ve accidentally traveled a millennia and become a ghost ship in some distant future.

Descending the steep stairway, I near the water level, and from here the splashing of the waves dominates any lingering engine/exhaust/fan noise from higher decks. I try to discern a rhythm in the splashing, but though the rise and fall of the ship is uniform, every contact, every wave, every splash is unique, and the task is fruitless. Further aft, away from the prow of the ship, the splashing turns to hissing, as the roiling water churned up by the prow surfaces, fizzing like the Healy is a giant Alka-Seltzer tablet, bubbling away in the sea. This sound is consistent, waiting to encompass you the moment you get close enough, and it’s comforting, like holding a seashell up to your ear. I wish I could record this sound to fall asleep to every night, but the moment I leave the ship I know I’ll forget that ephemeral hissing, just strong enough for ears but too subtle, too blurry for an iPhone.

My first cruise, that planted the seed that led me to the UNOLS-MATE internship, was in the Bering. As my first watery love, something about it feels like home. I know halibut and cod drift tens of meters below us, crabs and brittle stars sifting through silty sediment. People on the coast are chasing the salmon runs, stocking chest freezers to feed themselves through the winter, and I’m sure we’re passing distant commercial fishing vessels, manned by college students and drifters and seasoned hands. This sea is cold, merciless, and unforgiving, and I know that will only intensify as we continue our journey north, to seas new to me. I know I’m just another speck in this sea, here just a moment in its aquatic eons. But the hissing bubbles whisper welcome home, and the dark, depthless night wraps me in its embrace.

I hit the deck, and am getting a little spooked by my inability to distinguish shadows from structures. On that first cruise we pulled up massive, 30+ foot jellyfish tendrils, and I’m not quite convinced there isn’t a gigantic, gelatinous leviathan waiting to pluck me from the ship as vengeance: This is for the sea nettles and moon jellies you keep yanking up on your multicore, punk! I fling myself through a door and spin into the lab, where my people, others who grasp the sea in its infinity, await, who also welcome me home.

Cheers, Wil

Aidan Lee – Introduction

By Aidan Lee

On August 26, 2025

In R/V Atlantis, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution

Hi! My name is Aidan Lee, and I am one of the interns working with the electrical team of the HOV Alvin through Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution on the R/V Atlantis in early September. I’ll be boarding in Newport, Oregon after meeting with the team in Portland, and I’m excited to get to meet everyone there! I graduated with my bachelor’s degree in Electrical and Computer Engineering at the University of Washington in Seattle, and joined a remotely operated vehicles robotics team competing in the MATE ROV Competition during my time as an undergraduate. I’m looking forward to seeing what ways my technical skills from developing ROVs can apply to the HOV Alvin at sea!

Below I’ve included a few pictures of me, some of which are during the 2025 MATE ROV Competition in Alpena, Michigan. I’ve got friends on the team who have previously been MATE interns who speak very highly of the program, so I want to make the most of my experience here.

I will be back with another update in approximately another week or so. See you guys then!

Aidan

1: Departure – Wil K

By Wil Kleiner

On August 25, 2025

In Ship-based Technical Support in the Arctic (STARC) Team, USCGC Healy

And we’re off! The Healy set sail (can I say that?) Thursday, chugging down the Aleutian Chain for science tests and drills before we start cruising up north to the Arctic for our stations.

The view as we tug-boated out of port. Fun fact, Kodiak’s powered by renewable energy, mainly from these wind turbines.

But before that: I got into Kodiak Monday night, and met up with the STARC (Ship-based Technical Support in the Arctic) team mid-transition. I met Maya, Emily, and Christina as they were leaving, and Cora, Brandon, Bowman, and Brendon, my mentor, who are on the STARC team for this cruise. We got dinner, something we’d do every night in Kodiak before leaving, along with exploring different spots of coastline- getting our fix of restaurant food, nature, and solid ground before heading off for six weeks. I’ve been thinking about doing a critter count, inspired by Kaleigh’s bear count, but within five minutes of the first beach my starfish, sorry, sea star count was already astronomical.

My rough wildlife count for this week, on land, was: two kingfishers, one bald eagle, endless sea stars, one dead rockfish, many sculpin, even more anemones, and a few chitons. Zero bears but I’m fine with that (I’m Alaskan, I’ve had enough!). I am hoping to see a polar bear from a very respectful distance, but Kodiak grizzlies can stay away. Please. I’m now resetting the critter count for being at sea, though I can already add four puffins and a guillemot that Cora ID’ed.

Anyway, the moment I got situated on board, work began, with me lending a novice hand as we replaced a damaged GPS cable. But the real mission of the last few days has been final repairs on some imploded CTD niskins, and equipment setup for the new science party. Most of the damaged ones have been fixed or replaced, but we had a couple that needed gaskets replaced or springs re-tensioned. On a previous cruise I’ve collected CTD water samples, so this wasn’t too unfamiliar, but then we moved to setting up a new flourometer. I’m new to sensor setup, but Brandon walked me through the CTD configuration and installed the new sensor. And then, our first CTD test cast! One niskin didn’t deploy, but other than that it went well.

So much more has happened at such a lightning speed that I can’t quite put it on paper- tours of the ship, winches, water wall, sonar, etc. I’ll go in depth on these aspects as I work with them in the upcoming weeks.

The next few days we’ll be transiting north, working on setting up all our sensors ands making sure things are running smoothly. I will be tagging along and familiarizing myself with the STARC duties onboard, and working on outlining my goals for the internship. Additionally, hoping to establish a gym routine- the gyms here (yes, plural) are well-stocked and calling my name. I brought hang board holds, and Cora and I have been trying to do pull-ups and push-ups on the hour to stay energized. On a previous cruise I trained for a half marathon. Maybe my goal this time will be a couple pull-ups.

Looking forward to everything I have to learn and share with y’all.

Cheers, Wil

Thanks for all the fish – STARC 06

By Kaleigh Ballantine

On August 21, 2025

In Ship-based Technical Support in the Arctic (STARC) Team, USCGC Healy

Boom! Smash! Crash! They had to get one more drill out of the way before we disembarked, and the straight-faced reading of those onomatopoeias over the pipes really set the scene for that last collision and flooding drill. Make-believe obstacles aside, the rest of the transit home was pretty smooth. At the last all-hands meeting, I was surprised and delighted to learn I had received a “Coast Guard Arctic Service Medal,” which will definitely be going on my LinkedIn accomplishments. Another highlight was the second “science talk” of the voyage, featuring a member of the Finnish Border Guard. The previous talk was from our other international guest from the French Navy. They were both a joy to listen to, and it was fascinating hearing about marine operations in other parts of the world.

Collision-free view, labelled for your convenience!

The morning we were set to arrive in Kodiak, Tyler and I woke up early to meet Maya and Micah to turn off the science systems (and hopefully to start aligning our sleep schedules a little more). Our first step was shutting off the water walls, and simply enough involved closing off the main flow valves, running a freshwater flush, and powering down the system. Of course, overachievers that we are, we also decided to take off and wash each instrument one by one so they would be squeaky clean for the next cruise. Next, we headed back to the computer lab to shut off the sonars with a simple click of a few buttons. The science data logging was officially complete!

The multibeam was showing off at the last minute…

Data collection wrapped, Micah and I quickly pivoted to more artistic endeavors. Within the next two days, we had wound up with some 3D prints, an unofficial logo for STARC in the spirit of a Coast Guard request, and a sticker design featuring an adorably wonderful sketch that Micah drew and I digitized. I feel really lucky that I was paired with such an artistic and incredibly fun buddy for this trip, and will forever treasure Micah’s daily motivational drawings of Bing Bong the cat (and my favorite, his snarky antagonist, Ding Dong), our scrappy but ever-growing intern baton, and the polar bear journal she painted me! Good luck on the next voyages, Micah, I’ll be keeping posted!

While mindlessly staring out the window as one does, unaware there was anything other than the typical expanse of ocean to see, an IT guy informed me that I was looking in the wrong direction to see Kodiak. Land ho! Having just finished reading Endurance, a novel about Shackleton’s famous Antarctic escape, I had a special appreciation for the awe of seeing land and a new cast of characters for the first time. While not so dramatic after our monthlong, penguin-meat-free voyage, imagining the wonder in their return narratives really makes you appreciate the little things, like trees and a store that sells cashews. Unfortunately, I ate all of mine in the first three days of the trip.

We were carefully bumped into the dock by two tug boats, which was a perk of being on such a huge ship and a new experience for me. And what better sight to greet us in port than a NOAA logo! Oscar Dyson was docked nearby. Time for liberty! We spent our time in Kodiak exploring town, getting fro-yo every day, visiting Walmart (I did secure cashews), hiking around the beaches, eating delicious and wildly affordable sushi, watching zombie salmon, and looking for bears. Before we knew it, we were saying our goodbyes and headed home from our Arctic adventure.

Of course we went right back to looking at the ocean.

Some big thank yous are due to everyone who supported me along the way! Thank you to Micah for the excellent camaraderie and constant supply of intriguing tidbits. Thank you to Tyler and Maya, our mentors, who not only taught us so much about the work of marine techs, but also kept things fun, light, and full of shenanigans. Thank you to Christina, Brendon, Emily, and the rest of the STARC team for giving us this opportunity in the first place and for keeping Kodiak exciting. Thank you to the Coast Guard for having us and giving us shiny certificates, and to AMOS for indulging my impromptu TED Talk requests. And, finally, thank you to all of you for reading this blog! I’ve truly grown an unexpected level of fondness for writing it, and I’m so happy it’s been a source of science and silliness for many of you.

~~Polar~~ bear count: 2!*

*Folks, it came down to the wire, but I’m ecstatic to report that we finally have two real bears to report this week! Shoutout to Brendon for surrendering our dinner table to let us go check out these two adorable Kodiak bears, who were playing, fishing, standing, and generally enamoring us. Kodiak bears are a type of brown bear that only live in this area of Alaska, and are bigger than grizzlies but smaller than polar bears. It counts!

Kodiak Horizons – 12 – Micah B.

By Micah Barton

On August 20, 2025

In Host, US Coast Guard, USCGC Healy, Vessel/Laboratory

With the ice floes far out of our sight, we began the transit into port. Our days were spent waving the ice goodbye, cleaning up our work stations and preparing for seas. The weather was predicted to pick up and become quite sporty as we headed in, so we began securing gear.

On the day we came into port, I awoke to the familiar feeling of a tug pushing along the hull of the ship. The Healy always has the aide of a tug or two to help guide them into port, as often times a novice is behind the controls up in the bridge. A little bit of help never hurts! Our team stood above on the flight deck, to watch the masters of their craft navigate. A tug boat is something akin to a glorified floating engine, with the sole purpose to push and shove other vessels around. Even so, there can be no understating the importance of their work! They are responsible for helping an endless amount of ships safely navigate water ways, and assist them to avoid running aground.

As we docked in the small marina of Kodiak, Alaska, I was taken aback by how beautiful it truly is. The mountains stand tall and imposing over the bay. From over the hills, helicopters and planes soar above in the clouds. Kodiak is a “Coast Guard City”, and has one of the largest coast guard bases in our nation. Once we docked, we finally got our first good look at the outside of the ship! When we boarded, it was via small boat shuttle, so there was no time for gawking at the sheer size of the Healy. Now, looking up from the pier, holy moly! As the largest cutter in the fleet, she is Big Red, large and in charge! She dominates the pier space, and comes uncomfortably close to the fishing ship astern to her. It was a treat to share dock space with the NOAA ship Oscar Dyson, though we sadly had no time for tours. As a NOAA nerd and lover, it is always very exciting to see them out and about! Oscar, if you ever see this, hit me up. We’ll tour and swap CTD horror stories or something.

Truly we were blessed with an awesome group of people. HUGEST shoutout to Tyler and Maya, the coolest mentors around! As they were both previously UNOLS Mate interns, it feels very full circle. From mentee to mentors, they stepped up to the plate in huge ways. Kaleigh is the coolest kat on the west coast, and it was a pleasure to sail with her! Best of luck to all three of y’all, and I am certain we will cross paths again as ships in the night (or rather, on ships in the night. It’s a small world after all).

With a spare day in port, everyone on board was given liberty. Time to explore! The town is bustling with a surprising amount of energy. We ate at local restaurants, walked by the fishing piers, and enjoyed the wild sights of mountains meeting ocean. Though we saw no polar bears, we were extremely excited to see bears on shore! They were out for a stroll, enjoying easy meals out of the dying salmon. Salmon are mostly anadromous and semelparous, which sounds fancy, but simply means two things: they begin and end their lives in fresh water, and die after spawning just one time. During the summer, they return to the river they were born in to repeat the cycle over again. After they spawn, they die, providing abundant nutrients for the next generation of salmon. It is a truly striking cycle that I have always been deeply stirred by, and witnessing it firsthand was touching. The bears and birds take advantage of the weakened salmon by scooping up some easy meals.

Though our time onboard the Healy is done, the memories made and work completed will remain. Invaluable lessons learned and lifelong friends made, I head home. Alaska, wild and enchanting, streams 30,000 feet below me. I’m sure to return.

Special thanks to the Healy, for facilitating us interns to sail with you! The crew, for dealing with our shenanigans and endless questions. To Maria and the entire UNOLS team for helping us each step of the way. To our mentors Tyler and Maya, for sharing their knowledge and encouraging our learning environment always. We are grateful beyond words.

Thank you to my family, for supporting my crazy dreams and believing in my abilities. Without their undying love and unconditional support, I would never make it to this point. Mom, Zak; I love y’all, and work everyday to make you proud! Kayla and Joyce, thank you for encouraging me so I could believe in myself. Love y’all always, my voices of reason.

Until next time, mateys!

Micah Barton – God Bless – 08/20/2025