This cruise, so far, has been quite eventful. After beginning our journey back North, we decide to turn up the Columbia River and head inland. The transition to calm water is a relief, and I am happy to have a break, however brief, from the constant rocking and rolling of the boat. A few miles upriver, we decide to lift up the boom that has been deployed over the side of the boat for a quick inspection. As the crane lifts the end of the pole up, it bends and snaps in half.
Either end of the boom was anchored by cables at the bow of the ship, which left the length subject to the weight of our forward momentum and the ocean’s waves, allowing it to bend like the flex of an archer’s bow as it is drawn. Over time, at the center of the pole, the aft end of a welded joint began to split, until only a sliver, about an inch long, was left holding it together. We had caught it just in time.
As a testament to the strength of the team here at UW, it takes us twelve hours to find a dock, find a welder, take the whole thing apart, fix it back up, and put it all back together. By one in the morning, the only thing stopping us from going back to sea is the tide. We wait till morning.
We depart the Columbia with the ebb, with the aim of surveying the river effluent as it mixes into the Pacific. As we skirt the edge of the river plume, the water changes back and forth from a muddy turquoise to a deep, clear blue. The salinity jumps between 20 to 30 parts per million, which brings the science party unbelievable excitement. They have renamed our mission “Plume Chasers” and insist that we’re the next big Discovery Channel hit. We follow its track South until all traces of the river disappear and all that’s left is endless salty blue ocean.
I awake the next morning to Brian knocking at my stateroom door. I hear him say “orcas” and I am up on deck before my eyes are even open. A pod of about a dozen whales rides in our wake. They surface, one or two at a time, and then all together at once. A few juveniles breach and playfully rub against the adults. Farther behind, a massive dorsal fin rises slowly from the sea and a dark body with two white eye patches emerge, pointed directly towards us. It must be the alpha male, taking up the rear of the pack. Words cannot describe the sense of wonder I feel. I have never interacted with animals this large before, and my heart jumps with waves of nerves and excitement. For a moment, I am no longer the apex predator, and I feel as if I am being preyed upon. Watching the family move with coordination and intention, it becomes clear that these animals are highly intelligent. I am completely overcome with admiration for these creatures, and I am reminded that the ocean is truly a humbling place to be.
