The first several days of our journey had us steaming northward in the Bering Sea, through the Bering Strait and into the Beaufort Sea. The Bering Strait is significant because at its narrowest point (57 miles), it separates the eastern most point of Asia (Cape Dezhnev, Russia) from the most western point of North America (Cape Prince of Wales, Alaska). As we traveled through the strait, I was taken back to lessons taught in elementary school Social Studies and tried to imagine the strait as a frozen land bridge that served as a major migratory route from Asia into North Americans for nomadic humans as they followed the herds in search of food. Unfortunately it was both too dark and too foggy to see both Russia and Alaska as we passed through, I hope that on the way back that we have to opportunity to be in this unique location.
Once in the Chukchi Sea, not only had we officially left the Pacific Ocean and entered the Arctic Ocean, it was finally Team CTD’s turn to join the science fun aboard ship! CTD is an acronym for Conductivity, Temperature, and Depth and serves as the primary tool for determining essential physical properties of seawater. The data collected with the CTD includes information on the temperature, salinity, chlorophyll, and oxygen levels. The water that is collected is used to verify the computer generated numbers, as well as supply water for nutrient, methane and phytoplankton counts. The advantages of a CTD are its remote sensing capabilities and accuracy. The CTD itself is very lightweight and can be used at depths up to several thousand meters. A shipboard CTD, such as the one on the Healy, is made up of a set of small probes attached to a large metal rosette wheel. The rosette is lowered on a cable down to the seafloor, and scientists observe the water properties in real time via a conducting cable that connects the CTD to a computer on the ship. On the Healy, it is the Coast Guard crew is in charge of lowering the rosette, while I am in charge of operating the computer.
As the CTD operator, my primary responsibility is directing the winch driver as to when stop the CTD to collect the water samples. A remotely operated device allows the water bottles to be closed selectively as the instrument ascends. After the CTD is recovered, it is also our job to make sure that samples are collected in the correct order, gather the water for salt samples and set up the CTD for the next cast. A standard CTD cast, depending on water depth, takes about 15-60 minutes to complete. The whole process is then repeated at each pre-determined site along the transect line. There are nine of these transect lines throughout the Beaufort Sea that are part of different projects. As the cruise continues, I hope to understand more about each of these projects, but as it stands, I understand that the main goal of this cruise is to better understand the flow patterns of the Pacific and Atlantic currents in the Beaufort Gyre and how they are impacted throughout the year by storms and ice.
I am part of a two-person team. The other part of the team is a student from Russia, who is currently working on her PhD in oceanography from the University of Moscow in association with Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute (WHOI). My partner is also my roommate, but we rarely see each other because when I am working, she is sleeping and vice versa. When we do see each other, there is a bit of a language barrier, but her command of English is far better than my non-existent command of Russian. When each of us is on duty, there is very little down time as so much science is being done and the CTD is in high demand as it is gathering data for multiple projects. Before my first time operating the CTD, I was walked through the whole process only once, leaving me very nervous for my first shift. I, however, had a watchful and extremely helpful eye guiding me through the first few casts until I got the hang of the process. Fortunately, my fears proved to be unfounded as I, was able to pick up the important skills rather quickly and, by the end of the first day, I was able to operate the CTD pretty much independently and without any major mistakes.
The regimentation of daily life on the Healy has been quite an adjustment. Meals are served for an hour and only an hour, weekly room checks are required, and the crew is called by their last name and rank. I have yet to figure out what all of the acronyms stand for, however I have begun to understand the chain of command. Fortunately, for me I have developed several nicknames including, the girl who lost her shoes (as it turns out this was actually not my fault as another girl from the science crew had mistaken them for her own and showed up to breakfast an hour later with them on). For someone, who is not known for her neatness, the need to stow everything and leave nothing out has been quite a challenge. Furthermore, I have yet to grow accustomed to the daily drills, in which we must check in while the crew practices for emergency situations. The most recent drill included several fake fires throughout the boat, a flooding in the boiler room and one of the crew getting a piece of metal stuck in his chest. All of which is highly simulated with fake blood and all. I am absolutely impressed with the efficiency in which the boat and crew function and complete daily tasks without questions and little complaining.
As we have been underway, one thing that I am extremely grateful for is the size of the Healy as we pitch and roll through the rough seas. When I look out the window at the sometimes 10-20 ft swells all I can think about is how glad I am not trying to navigate one of our small DISL boats. Getting accustomed to this constant pitch and roll has been another major adjustment for a “balanced challenged” person such as myself. Thankfully, I have not been seasick; however, walking down a hallway without crashing into the walls is a constant struggle. The listing of the ship has also added a whole new dimension to daily tasks such as working out and showering.
Although I have yet to see a whale, I did see the Northern Lights for the first time. I have seen them many times in pictures and I have heard about how beautiful they are, but nothing compares to seeing them in person. On this particular night, I got a pounding on my door around 11:30 p.m. (just as I requested) if the Northern Lights were going to appear. At the time I was getting some much needed sleep before my next shift, which was set to begin in several hours. Although I was exhausted, I knew I didn’t want to miss the opportunity, not knowing if it would ever come again. Once up on deck, I stood with three other people in the nipping cold and was mesmerized by a giant green brushstroke that painted itself across the sky and then slowly faded away. I was so happy that I actually got to witness this natural beauty first hand. If I do get the opportunity to see them again I plan to whistle at them as I was told by a fellow scientist aboard the ship, who is an Inupiaq Native from Point Hope, Alaska, that this will encourage them to dance.