For the past few days, we have been working our way down the coastline, following a zig-zag pattern as we follow the current south. We cruise with ease, with the wind and waves are at our back. The days are mostly grey and smooth, with the occasional whale spout or pod of dolphins breaking up the endless ocean.
The group of scientists on board are studying the presence and fate of methane in our coastal waters. They extract the gas from the surface of the ocean as we cruise by, and then compress it into gas cylinders for further analysis. Methane is a greenhouse gas, with a much greater ability to retain heat than its better known cousin, carbon dioxide. This means a relatively small amount of methane may have a large affect on the global climate. This research project aims to understand the role of methane in coastal ocean processes, and then using computer modeling, project how these processes contribute to the climate on a global scale.
Initially, we planned to sail all the way to central California. To everyone’s dissappointment, the forecast is calling for a storm just around the corner of Cape Blanco. If we choose to continue, a nine foot swell awaits us, and we’ve already been struggling through less. With our hopes of eating chowder in the Golden State dashed, we turn tail and head North.
With this sudden change, we need to come up with a new game plan that fits within the limits of the weather, tide, and time. We all gather around the navigation computer, the science team points out other locations they would like to sample, shooting out new research ideas and case studies on the fly. We manage to pull together a plan that everyone seems to be happy with, and I walk away pretty amazed at everyone’s flexibility and ability to improvise on such short notice.
This kind of experience makes it clear that the nature of fieldwork taught in class just doesn’t reflect reality at all. I have yet to see a single research cruise where things go as planned, where scientists walk off the boat with the exact data and samples they expect. It is almost unfair to lead undergraduates on with the idea that fieldwork may be accomplished with a printed handout on a clipboard, and the option of a rain check if bad weather arises. The truth of it is that when the boat has been rolling nearly 180 degrees for three days straight, when your equipment keeps falling over no matter how many bungee cords you strap around them, when the prospects of weather gets even worse, you work through the nausea and figure out something better. The truth of it is, as Liz likes to say, research at sea is fast and loose.