Paddle Frenzy

More boats. The Oden back in sight after a rescue operation beyond the ice edge where the fuel tanker Gianella was caught in drifting sea ice. The research vessel Nathaniel B. Palmer (pictured) berthed yesterday afternoon then reembarked today. Gianella comes in tomorrow at eight am. Currently it's about a mile off station struggling through winds. As it was described, “When the winds get too high that superstructure acts like a giant sail. Thing can't go anywhere, maneuver worth anything right now.”

The Palmer is the primary research vessel contracted by the NSF. On the tour today, a tour directed toward post-docs, a tour on which I tagged along, the guide talked frequently about various capacities within labs. He used the term fluorometry quite often. I remember four facts well.

1) The contraption pictured here is called a CTD, as it was originally designed to measure water conductivity and temperature at various depths. Today more complex attachments provide numerous other data. Each cylinder is connected to a central cable which draws up to a lab where depth is monitored on computer. At predetermined depths a button is pressed – the controls are still manual – and hatches on both ends of the chosen cylinder pop open. When the cylinder fills they pop close and seal. This particular CTD has 24 cylinders, so 24 different depths can be sampled. On the trip down here there were a number of drops between six and eight thousand meters. I don't know when results will be in.

2) Also on the trip down a fire broke out in a safe full of flammable chemicals. At first mention this seemed pretty banal. Further discussion among the scientists and post-docs, most of it hushed, made the potential ramifications quite jarring “They think it was caused because a bottle of Acetone wasn't placed in its secondary containment. The importance of chemical safety,” our guide noted facetiously. “On rough seas the bottle probably broke open, saturated the interior of the safe, and then a spark—fwoom.” Others on the tour prodded charred ceiling tiles yet to be replaced, ran their hands along the blistered wall placards. “I'm glad I wasn't on-board for the full trip. Imagine sinking somewhere off the Antarctic Peninsula. Didn't mind missing that adventure.” One of the scientists who had been on board raised her eyebrows and shook her head.

3) Through the Drake Passage south of Punta Arenas, Chile “the seas were rough,” according to one scientist. She described standing on the bridge as the prow of the boat dug into a wave trough and the cresting wave before them splashed across the bridge windows. The first picture here is taken from the bridge. The second picture shows the bridge, the protruding, rectangular, windowed section off the starboard bow, a group of people walking below.

Yeah, rough seas.

4) Ye Olde Fashion'd Defroster: when the weather is really nasty and cold, the bridge windows freeze over faster than they can be cleared, at least safely. These devices, Clear-Vus, are failsafe assurance of a small view. They are cranked around by hand and the forming ice, by centrifugal or centripetal force (depending on your level of formality), is spun off. As the bridge was clearing, the tour at an end, I said aloud to no one in particular, “Seems like an antiquated way of defrosting.” A man on board leaning his back against the windows with arms crossed, a mate of some sort who, by appearance alone, I judged full of invaluable and perhaps incommunicable folk wisdom, shrugged and said also to no one in particular, “It's old and simple so you know it's gowna work.”