Journal #8
November 30, 2004, Tuesday
Long/Lat: S0
degrees W0 degrees
[Air Temp: 4.2C/ Wind: 20-23/ Wind Chill: –12.1C/ Water Depth: 4431meters/ 4’ swell]
We performed a plankton tow at 12:30am in which we recovered some Salpa Thompsoni. This good fortune inspired the salps group to put out the Tucker Trawl to get more! (This is one way the labs work collaboratively …and stay up all night!)
One of the primary PI’s, Rudi Scheltema, has made the following contribution to the Journal. In this he shares with you how his part of the grant partnership (shared with Ken Halanych, Chief Scientist) works in the Cruise Plan. We log the raw field data, and from that Dr. Scheltema will write a report to the National Science Foundation and perhaps a paper at a later date.
“For the past three days we have been crossing Drake Passage, the seaway separating the South American and the Antarctic continents. We have been making collections of drifting planktonic organisms every four hours along a route between Staten and Elephant Islands using a fine meshed net three-quarter meter in diameter at its mouth (ca. 39”). Why do we wish to undertake such a strenuous program? We will explain.
About 100 million years ago during Jurassic and Cretaceous geologic time the single existing super continent named Pangaea became divided into two parts. One, Laurentia, “drifted” by means of plate tectonics to the north forming the continents of the northern hemisphere; the other half, Gondwanaland, moved to the south to form the continents of the southern hemisphere, namely, Africa, Australia, South America and the Antarctic. Then more recently, about 40 million years ago, Antarctica and South America separated to form the Drake Passage which we now cross on our way to the Antarctic continent.
As a consequence of this separation, the marine organisms that live in the waters surrounding the Antarctic continent (in particular the Antarctic Peninsula and South Shetland Islands) have been isolated from South America even longer. So long, in fact, that they have changed significantly and evolved into a new unique “local” fauna, different but related most recently (remember, in geologic time) to that of South America. While the majority of marine bottom dwelling organisms differ from those of South America, some groups (taxa) remain largely unchanged and are found on both the South American and Antarctica continents, including 40 to 50 percent of all mud-dwelling worms and about a third of all echinoderms (meaning “spiny skinned”), which include sea stars and brittle stars. If such species are to remain unchanged they must have had some means to maintain contact with one other, that is, ”to visit” one another. We suggest that this contact may be maintained through the dispersal of their minute larvae passively carried long distances by ocean currents (i.e., they didn’t set out to “swim” there). Such dispersal is similar to that of plant seeds, for example milkweed seeds which may be carried by the wind or “air currents”.
So we will undertake to discover if larvae might not be carried long distances maintaining genetic continuity or relationship, “a visitation of larvae,” or the “wandering babies” like those we have established for tropical oceanic waters. We shall attempt to discover larvae in the Drake Passage and to determine how the “water babies” contribute to the geographic distribution of marine invertebrate bottom-dwelling organisms.”
Lastly, I share with you a pair of photos taken by Susie Balser. One is of the beloved “Chile”, taken before he moved into his very special “condo”. The other is our first sight of Antarctic land, Elephant Island. How did Ernest Shackelton ever conceive of getting ashore here??
[Dinner: Sirloin
w/shrimp stuffing, Pork chops, rice green beans, salad]
Journal #9
December 1, 2004, Wednesday
Long/Lat: S060 degrees 47.371, W056 degrees 18.962
[Air Temp: 1.3C/ Wind: 30k/ Wind Chill: –15.1C/ Water Depth: 565meters/ 4’ swell]
We have been performing scientific data collection around Elephant Island all day. It is very cold, windy, and a little snowy. Nothing sticks, however, because it is snowing sideways!
Lots of sampling activity today. We picked up some nice, clean plankton samples in the net, sent the benthic sled trawl out for bottom sampling, and the Tucker trawl for salps. An ROV (remotely operated vehicle) was even used today, and we’ll get to see that recording, too. I understand it took some impressive footage of the ship’s propellers in the course of its trek!
Here are the changes in water depth as we traveled from the Burdwood Bank to Elephant Island:
26 Nov. 101m
27 Nov. 139m
28 Nov. 410m
29 Nov. 2009 – 4292m (Wow! That’s deep!)
30 Nov. 4032m
01 Dec. 2346 –> 436 –> 105 –> 565m
From this, you can perhaps make a mental map of the ocean floor we crossed, and see how we knew we were approaching land, even in the fog. That was quite an abyss in the middle, which is why we didn’t do any benthic trawls there!
Speaking of keeping track of depths, the other night I went to the dining hall (or “mess hall”) in the middle of the night, and in my mid-watch stupor, I heard a cricket-like chirp sound as I crossed the floor. Were my shoes squeaking? I tried scuffing and couldn’t reproduce it. Where was it coming from? I walked all around the hall’s center island. Underneath? A cricket? On the ship? Could it be a warning beep for something, like when the smoke alarm battery runs down at home? I finally gave that up and went back to my lab. But when I went to my bunk a little later, I heard it up there on 02 Deck, too! Do you know what it was yet? Sonar. The ship’s sonar had me crawling around on the dining room floor looking for a cricket. Anyway, the sonar is on all the time, “pinging” off the ocean floor and sending the depth in meters message back in the form of a “ping” (measuring time between sound out and sound return). But it especially reverberates in the ship’s hull in the shallower waters.
Catches of the Day: Octopus in benthic trawl, about 4 inches long, that “inked” when they took it out, making a mess of things (“Aw…You made me ink!”), and a brooding starfish. “Brooding” means it was a mother starfish with babies under it. The starfish mother sits over her babies as they grow, never leaving even to feed, until they are big enough to venture out on their own.
[Image by
Regina Campbell-Malone]
[Image by Susie Balser]
Here’s another activity for you. You’ll need an Atlas-like map of the ocean area we just crossed (showing longitude and latitude), and a protractor, or a good ruler, or even a piece of string. Looking at the coordinates (Long/Lat) from the last 2 midnights, make dots on the map to represent our positions. Measure the distance from dot to dot, then holding that measurement, go to the gauge on the map and using that exact measure, you can see how many miles we traveled in that 24 hours. Sometimes we steam on through, but most days we stop or slow down to a crawl to put out some collecting gear.
We will be steaming now toward King George Island and the tip of the Antarctic Peninsula.
[Editors note: If the map doesn’t have a scale, you can get distance from the latitude lines. 1 degree of latitude from North to South is equal to exactly 60 nautical miles. A nautical mile is about 6,000 feet – slightly longer than the 5,280 miles in a “normal” statute mile. You can also figure out kilometers because there are 10,000 kilometers from equator to pole – that is how they came up with the units in the first place – and there are 90 degrees of latitude, so one degree of latitude equals 10,000/90=111 km.]
Journal #10
December 2, 2004, Thursday
Long/Lat: S061 degrees 38.707 W055 degrees 50.704
(midnight)
[Air Temp: 0.6C/ Wind: 25-30k/ Water Depth: 748meters]
Long/Lat: S062 degrees 45.197 W056 degrees 45.827
(noon)
[Air Temp: 0.1C/ Wind: WNW 10k/ Water Depth: 201meters]
Sleeping is not always good during the sleeping hours. Sometimes we get lots of roll from the ocean swell, and I haven’t figured out yet how to brace myself in my bunk from the back and forth, back and forth. I “networked” with the crew a little at lunchtime, and one of the engineers said to put my life preserver (next to every bunk, along with Survival Suits) under my mattress on one side, to create sort of a pocket or trough. That’s one I’ll try next time. Fortunately, we are in much calmer waters today, and sleep was good!
The word for the day is Icebergs!!! We passed King George Island to starboard heading mostly south toward the west side of the Antarctic Peninsula, and saw the first big iceberg around noon. It was huge. It was flat. And it had blue ice making up most of the base of it. That blue, I’m told, is due to the compression of the ice over the life of the berg. The blue part is the oldest part of the iceberg (therefore, it makes sense that it’s at the bottom, right?). I noticed that the smaller floating ice (you know, the ones only the size of a Hummer!) is usually blue, so it stays compressed like that - the most compact being the last to melt, and that ice is fresh at that point. All of the salt has been ‘squeezed out’. It was interesting to look at those pieces that were just barely on the surface, bobbing up and down with the waves. When they submerged, the water often filled the crevices in them, and it would spout up almost like a whale’s blow. (Alas, no whales …yet.) We held a vote for the iceberg photos that should be represented in this letter today. You know, it isn’t easy, each gigantic sculpture of nature being more phenomenal than the last. No two are alike, and just like pieces of art, it’s impossible to state with conviction that one is more beautiful than the other, “….the eye of the beholder..” type of thing. And I must say, photographs do not do justice or make your breath catch in mid-inhale as when you’re actually standing on deck beholding the sights with your own eyes.
Iceberg Terminology: See the attached document, “Know Your Ice” – it’s posted on the wall here on the ship, so we will all be that much more educated by the time we get home. Knowing how to tell a pancake from a tabular, or a bergie bit from a growler – now that’s a lesson worth learning. Most icebergs start out tabular, or flat on top. The ones with irregular surfaces (the part we see), are icebergs that have “flipped over”. They eventually melt away, and the ice mass starts all over again the next winter season. [See Image 1 and 2 – Icebergs]
I was writing this journal in the computer room, at a computer next to ship’s crew member, Guillermo Pizarro, and he…well …it leads me to the New Spanish Word for the Day (in recognition of the multicultural group of people with whom we share the LMG):
Estornudar = To Sneeze (don’t laugh, this is a challenging verb!) [graçias, Guillermo]
Yo estornudo, tu estornudas, el/ella estornuda
nosotros estornudamos, vosotros estornudasteis, ellos
estornudaron
Catch of the Day: I’d have to say, the icebergs, although, thankfully, not in the nets.
We did do some science today, by the way. There were a couple of plankton tows that yielded several of 7 or 8 different kinds of larvae each, and that’s a good day. A Blake (“look what the cat dragged in”) Dredge brought up many, many brittle stars, all sizes, crustaceans, sea spiders and an octopus. But there was a huge (5”X2”?) scale worm and another large seastar. I though you’d rather see the star, but let me know and I’ll put up the worm photo another day (or did that go on the dinner menu?).
Dinner: Spaghetti and spicy meat sauce, pork chops, rice and canned veggies, chocolate cake with banana filling and strawberry sauce (yeah, well, the bananas were getting overripe, and…)
Journal #11
December 3, 2004, Friday
Long/Lat: S063 degrees 31.220 W056 degrees 45.382
[Air Temp:-1.8C / Wind: 20-23k / Wind Chill: -19.3C /Water Depth: 191 meters]
Esperanza Station – We Walked on the Antarctic Continent!
Icebergs are still a great presence here. We’ve taken many pictures by now, and we’re no longer running out on deck for every one we pass – but they’re still appreciated. There was one particularly large iceberg looming on the radar that I swear must have had its own zip code. It was in the path of our passage toward a narrow cut, and we had to go around it. Every so often we see penguins riding the icebergs. They swim right up to the berg, ‘fly’ out of the water, and thwap! - stick to the side of an icy slope as if their tummies were made of Velcro.
We had a large sea-bottom haul in the early afternoon, using the Blake Dredge again. So large was this load, in fact, that it was simpler to empty it out on the deck. We shoveled heaps into large buckets for rinsing and transferred sortable loads to the sorting table on deck. It took about 3 hours just to clean and sort the conglomerate of seaweed, mud, and many, many critters, most of them brittle stars, but also lots of tube worms (a main focus for a couple of scientists here). Dr. Thomas Dahlgren pulled apart a glass sponge for closer inspection, and found several amphipods (relatives of sand flees) living inside.
I think it would make a lovely holiday centerpiece, don’t you? And as long as Martha Stewart is indisposed…. We worked feverishly on finishing the job of sorting and pickling, other-shift personnel getting involved also, because we had a deadline, places to go and people to see…
The highlight of the day was our evening stop at Esperanza Station at the very tip of the Antarctic Peninsula. Esperanza (meaning “hope”, named by the first inhabitants of the site in 1903) is an Argentine military and research base, with about 60 inhabitants including 21children and teenagers. We were invited, through our captain’s relationship with the base Director there, to come ashore and share a meal with the village. Captain Mike had a special mission of his own, which was to deliver presents to the children, including tee shirts and toys, and to open communication between the base and his son’s elementary school back in Florida. There are teachers, craftsmen, a doctor, and scientists there, all living in communal and relatively primitive housing
. The base is a cluster of around 20 similar, small barn-red buildings with black roofs, all facing in the same direction – a formation not so unlike the large population of Adelie penguins that share the landscape there!
Each building that was not a home was a functioning workshop for the community. One is for “auto” repair (they have a small fleet of all-terrain snow cats as far as I could gather – this is rugged terrain!), another for carpentry (carpinteria), and still another for electronics. We saw the chapel and the infirmary. There was a really small trailer-like unit that was the laboratory for all of the science that happens there. (I think a good deal of this is penguin-watching, but some geology, too.) The school/gym is quite modest with tiny classrooms, desks all clustered together, but despite their close quarters the teachers and children appeared to have good relationships! There was even a small computer room with equipment that appeared to have been donated by Intel. Did I mention that amidst the cluster of buildings was one huge DirectTV satellite dish? Spare me.
It was a flat calm, easy steam to this site. Captain Mike was pleased with the window of weather and lack of ice in the area – a shift in the wind would have pushed ice into land, prohibiting our access to it. Not unusual at this time of year.
They started
shuttling us (and several containers of hot food!) from the LMG to the
Esperanza dock around 6:30 p.m. It was
cold but pleasant, with a light snow falling.
Did anyone notice how quiet it was?
No boat engine. We walked a
pathway through a rocky area littered with penguins in their nests, penguins
standing watch, and penguins just kickin’ back because, there was nothing
really for them to do but watch us watching them. Several birds had eggs in their “nests” (a bit more orderly
arrangement of smaller rocks), and they would stand up and roll the eggs with
their beaks, then settle back down.
They didn’t seem bothered by our presence at all, which is good, because
to disturb them or take anything from their space (feathers, rocks, eggs, bones, etc.) would draw fines of up to $25,000 for each offense.
We gathered at the Casino, where the villagers had graciously and painstakingly set 3 long tables for dinner for everybody. The families walked down the road to the Great Hall, little girls dressed in tights, dresses and party shoes for the occasion, little boys on their best behavior. Our hosts had set the Great Hall with 3 lo-o-o-ng tables with linen, ample glassware, and nice Argentine wine. Within a short time, the language barrier was overcome and there began a cacophony of at first polite and then familiar chatter – after all, time was a-wastin’. We found creative ways to communicate (mine was to sit with someone who spoke pretty good English), and became warmly acquainted in this relatively short time. I learned from my tablemates (Juan and Gabriele) that the entire group of people at this station commit there for only one calendar year, changing with another whole community in January. And the major draw? – the pay is very good. Juan has done this 4 times (says this is his last), and after this stint he will be able to buy a house. His role on the base is “Doctor” (which includes dentist and druggist), and his profession at home is – optometrist. ‘Close enough for government work’ takes on a whole new meaning here. I’m sure he did a fine job, as everyone looked well fed, happy and healthy.
Wouldn’t you know it, just as Captain Mike was getting ready to call the return to the LMG, Latin dance music came on and the partying pace kicked itself up a notch! We were destined to a delay in departure, as the dance floor filled and became the single pulse of a diverse congregation of happy, friendly and genuinely grateful revelers.
We ultimately had to say goodbye, lots of email addresses were exchanged, friendly embraces all around, and the shuttling back to the ship began. Although I saw it as a pleasant reprieve from what had now become our daily routine, Raul (the Argentinean observer on LMG) that this was especially good for the station-keepers. He said they have some occasions of people becoming depressed with this long term of relative isolation, and getting back to their home lives can be difficult. He saw this visit as a good segue for our hosts to ready themselves psychologically for the return to more urban life. Bonus! Our pleasure, entirely!
From here we steam to the King George Island and the South Shetland Islands via the Bransfield Strait. I think we’re in for a treat…
Journal #12
December 4, 2004, Saturday
Long/Lat: S062 degrees 06.323 W058 degrees 23.427
[Air Temp:-1.7C / Wind: 22-24kn / Wind Chill: -19.3C /Water Temp: -1.0C / Depth: 740 meters]
Watches have been a little off kilter for the past 2 days. We’re in very deep water, so no benthic tows. The plankton tows have been farther between, and we’ve collected some interesting larvae, but all in all, it’s been rather low key. That is, until we made our way into Admiralty Bay…
Admiralty Bay is a long harbor halfway along the south side of King George Island. When we were entering the bay, Crock (one of the chefs) came into the lab to alert us to a “scenic vista”, and what a feast to the senses it was!! The snow-covered black rock mountains totally surrounding the calm waters and eating up half the sky were a sight to behold. Because of the low, bright sun and large cloud breaks, the sunlight shone on those snowfields in ever-changing shades of black and white, with occasional blue from the sky’s reflection. You never knew there was so much personality to the shades of black and white, nor how beautiful they can be until left to the hand of Nature!!
We were cruising the bay seeking out water shallow enough to do a bottom reading (mud sample). Lucky for those of us not depending on the research that it was mostly a very deep harbor, because it gave us a good long time to drink in the views. We were walking the decks taking pictures of the same views over and over again, because they kept changing with the changing light. A shy minke whale circled us a couple of times, then disappeared for the duration (I missed it, no photos), and a flock of about 60 Cape petrels "buzzed" us in synchronized swoops the whole time we were there. The only thing better would have been to turn off all engines and blowers, and have complete silence (but then I probably would have burst out crying). Anyway, there are several (4 or 5) international outposts along the waterfront in the bay, but you practically had to have them pointed out to you, they were so small in contrast to the whole vista. (Does anyone know the purpose of those outposts? Science? Military? Quite a remote existence I imagine, except for those “mixers” on Saturday nights!)
The views here are so vast and large and ...unencumbered by human or technological interference. Pristine is hardly the word, because it looks rough and forbidding. Being the one looking at the whole picture is, I'm sure, much better than to be standing in the middle of it. But I can just ever-so-barely imagine what the lure of exploration might be for those equipped (or not) to do it.
Catch of the Day:
Grab from the bottom of Admiralty Bay yielded brittle stars and scale worms on mud and volcanic gravel. The real show was up above today.
We are moving along the South Shetlands, back in the schedule of plankton tows, and benthic tows as depth allows. The icebergs continue to catch our eye, and most of the ice we’re seeing now is coming from the Weddell Sea. We are especially awed by those bergs about the size of Fenway Park. The Green Monster has nothing on these babies!
Journal #13
December 5, 2004, Sunday
Long/Lat: S062 degrees 24.221 W058 degrees 37.757
[Wind: NW 13-15k / Air Temp:-0.3C / Wind Chill: -12.7C /Water Depth: 1432 meters]
We’re becoming more acquainted here on the ship, so I thought I’d share with the readers a few details on who’s aboard the L.M. Gould – not all at once, but a representative group or person each day I can fit them in.
Student Bios: Where they’re from, how they came to be on this cruise, and in some cases, what they hope to gain from being here.
Here are some of the lab crew on deck of the LMG (they think they look like candy corn):
(LtoR) Dr. Susie Balser (IWU), Dr. Vicke Starczak (WHOI), Regina Campbell-Malone (WHOI),
Rob Jennings (WHOI), Rebecca Belcher (Auburn), Heather Blasczyk (Auburn) and
Adriene Burnette (Auburn) [photo by Ken Halanych]
I have just graduated from URI with a degree in Ocean Engineering with a focus on remote sensing and ROV's (Remotely Operated Vehicles). Through some fortunate experiences in scientific study, my academic interests are now crossing over from engineering to biology. This spring, I will begin a master’s program in Oceanography at the University of Connecticut, with Pat Kremer as my advisor. I was invited to participate in this cruise through my academic associations with Pat and with Larry Madin. I am one of the certified scientific divers for the salps study group.
I am one of Dr. Ken Halanych's PhD students from Auburn
University. I am on this trip because the samples collected throughout
the trip will be the basis of my PhD dissertation research.
I’m a research assistant in Dr. Ken Halanych’s lab at Auburn University. I’m here to help sort and process the samples we get and to help out in any other way I can. Seeing penguins, glaciers, icebergs and Antarctica is just an added bonus!!!
I am doing a master’s degree in Molecular Phylogenetics of Polychaetes under Dr. Ken Halanych at Auburn University. Ken asked me to come and help sort samples and catalogue samples. I am also here to enjoy the experience of going to Antarctica.
Regina is a Joint Program student at MIT/WHIO. The main focus of Regina’s studies is whales,
not zooplankton, but a little
diversity of study is always desirable in the development of a well-rounded
scientist. After all, whales eat some
of the things we’re pulling up in our tows.
Rob is a ‘lifer’ in the PhD joint program at MIT/WHOI, or so it seems (he’s on what he calls “the 6 year plan”). Rob worked in Dr. Ken Halanych’s lab when Ken was at WHOI, and was invited to do…what the rest of us are doing - a lot of work, and a little comic relief.
Jon is an undergraduate student at Auburn University. He had started out in engineering, but has been bitten by the biology bug, and has hit the ground running. Besides being knowledgeable beyond his years in the laboratory, he makes an excellent “mule”, shoveling samples from the deck to the sorting table, or carrying heavy buckets of “throw away” stuff and chucking it overboard after it has been sorted and catalogued. He’s also becoming an expert at “firing off” XBT’s.
We towed the epibenthic sled in 894 meters of water and pulled up mostly mud and rocks. Now, not that that’s a bad thing, there are lots of critters in there, but they have to have a “bath” before we can tell one lump from another – unless, of course, they wiggle in the gray mush. By the way, this mud does not smell, like the mud at home does. It hardly has any smell at all. In this muck we’re finding lots of tubeworms. Dr. Thomas Dahlgren is very adept at slicing the worm’s tube (it’s like wet paper), and with lab forceps, gently retrieving the worm from its hiding place for future study. These worms are not ‘beefy and strong’ like the ones in your garden. In fact in comparison, they are quite limp and icky, but they hold a strange scientific fascination to some pretty manly men here. Perhaps it’s time one of them wrote a Journal entry about their invertebrate magnetism. Large scaleworms are also a regular player in the tows, and I can see why the boys like them! Gross!! …
A face only a mother could love: “Please send bigger forceps!” Scale worm (aka, “sea mouse”). [photo by Thomas Dahlgren]
It’s definitely getting colder here, and ‘multi-layers’ is the dress of the day. When you have enough layers to really be warm out on deck, including the “Mustang Suit”, you move sort of like a spaceman in all of that garb. (I wonder if “Michelin Man” would be the better analogy.) Anyway, it’s awkward but effective.
The word today is that we will go to Deception Island some time in the next two days. There is some exciting science planned for that harbor, using the ROV, benthic grab and dive operations. Among other things, they hope to retrieve whale bones from the harbor floor. It may also be another opportunity for us to get off the ship and explore more exotic landscapes.
Journal #14
December 6, 2004, Monday
Long/Lat: S063 degrees 23.058 W060 degrees 02.668
[Wind: NE 23kn / Air Temp: 0.3C / Wind Chill: -15.8C /Water Depth: 195 meters, lt. snow all day]
The Blake trawl at noon yielded more stuff than we could process in our 4 hours! Just to give you a window on what happens once the nets are emptied on deck, we first dive in and say “OOH!!” and “AAAH!!” and pick up all of the ‘cool stuff’ we can see on the top of the heap (huge stars, fish, octopods, scale worms, etc.). Then we each take a position around the pile and do a gross sort, pulling out the big items and putting them into large buckets (like the kinds painters use) with seawater to keep them “fresh” or alive for a later view (and perhaps return to the sea). When the pile starts looking ragged, a couple of people start putting shovelfuls of the stuff onto the sorting table, and I’ve told you all this before, right? Well, once the critters are rough sorted on deck, we take them into the Wet Lab and sort them onto large white trays (like cafeteria trays), by “family” (starfish on one, sea cucumbers and other squishy things on another, mollusks on another, etc.) and smaller containers for our little friends. The fine sorting comes next, with the up to 20 or so best specimens from each group, where the best looking one is numbered, photographed and… sliced. (Some critter families have individuals that look very much the same, but actually are not the same species, and that has to be determined under a microscope. It’s all very scientific, and well it should be, right?) This “slicing” part means two samples of the critter’s body are taken (depending on the animal, but let’s use the sea star for example), like the tip of one leg, plus the next 1-inch piece up from it, and those pieces go into vials. One vial is frozen dry, the other is filled with alcohol, and the main body goes into a large vial filled with formaldehyde (this is the voucher). Then, one piece is taken from each of the other samples from that family, and given similar numbers to the original, only in a counting sequence that separates each specimen, and those pieces are deep frozen along with the original voucher piece. All of these samples are listed by number in a log book, which is later put into an electronic database. This procedure is repeated again and again, each time there is a bottom trawl. We are halfway through the cruise, and the freezers and other bins are really starting to fill up. When it all goes back to the scientist’s ‘home base’, several things may happen to the, such as being analyzed for factors relative to their DNA (to precisely identify the organism), to help document what is living down here, and in the case of the collaboration with Dr. Scheltema, which larva belongs to which adult. There could be several years’ worth of research for many people to follow up this collection!
Jeff Godfrey is the Diving Safety Officer (DSO) on this cruise. His job is very specific – to be sure that the divers have the qualification and equipment to participate in the dives, and to be sure that every diver who goes out returns safely. Jeff describes his job in the following text:
“My job as the Diving Safety Officer is to ensure that diving operations are conducted in a safe and efficient manner so that the scientists can meet their research objectives. The planning for dive operations for this cruise started several months ago. Divers have to be qualified to dive in Antarctica. So choosing the correct people for the dive team is very important. Not only do the divers have to pass a physical before they are approved to dive, they have to meet training and proficiency requirements. At a minimum, divers have to be certified as scientific divers and have drysuit diving experience and blue water diving experience.
Drysuits are required for diving in the cold waters of Antarctica because they keep the divers warmer then the wetsuits that divers normally wear. Hypothermia (low body temperature) is an important consideration when diving because water conducts heat away from your body 25 times faster than air. Getting in the water in Antarctica without a suit would be like standing around in your underwear in –68o F weather. You wouldn’t live long [ed. note: and you wouldn’t want to die in your underwear!].
Bluewater diving refers to special techniques that we use because we are diving in the open ocean where the bottom is several hundred feet below and it is very easy to get separated from the dive team and get lost at sea. In bluewater diving we use a trapeze, which is a system of clips and weights and lines to keep all the divers tethered to a safety diver. It is the safety diver’s job to monitor the divers and provide assistance in case of an emergency. I act as the ‘safety diver’. This frees up the scientists to concentrate on collecting the animals they need for their research.
Because the bottom is several hundred or even thousands of feet below, if you drop anything, it’s gone for good. So divers must securely attach all of their equipment to themselves.
The equipment that bluewater divers generally use includes catch bags, jars, pencils, and cameras. The reason we dive on this trip is to collect gelatinous zooplankton - like jelly fish. If you try to use a net to collect gelatinous zooplankton, you kill it. Divers however can capture the zooplankton in jars and bring them back to the research vessel in perfect condition to study them. Divers can also use video and still cameras to take pictures of the animals in their natural habitat for further study. Divers use net catch bags to keep the jars in, and grease pencils to write important information on the lids of the jars.
“Most of my time between dives is spent filling SCUBA tanks, coiling the tethers and down line, fixing equipment and helping wherever else I’m needed.”
Jeff fits right into the scheme of things, takes an interest in all of the science at hand, and we are glad to have him as part of the crew.
Because it is still light (dusk-like), and the fact that salps tend to be more abundant at the top of the water column in the later hours of the day, the divers have been going out at midnight with great collection success! We hope to have a dive as part of the exploration at Deception Island. Now you know what the routine of that, as well as all of the dives to retrieve salps, entails. (By the way, have you all gone to the Uconn/Antarctica website to learn what salps are? www.marinesciences.uconn.edu/rvgould)
Cat-ches of the Day: See the Images and see for yourself!
Images:
Who caught whom?? [Sea Spider and Thomas Dahlgren, photo by Jonathan Craft]
“Happy Cat Syllid” [photo by Thomas Dahlgren]
Journal #15
Long/Lat: S062 degrees 49.714 W060 degrees 02.138
[Wind: W 25kn / Air Temp: -0.2C / Wind Chill: -19C /Depth: 934m/ Water Temp: -1.5C]
A Tucker Trawl (the jellyfish net) was done on my watch, and came up with loads of salps. This is usually good news for the salps group but it was again too windy and rough for the dive team to go out on their hunt-and-capture trek. Science is like that, and this cruise is a good example of it. You may have a plan, a very tidy schedule all laid out, but weather and other circumstances such as equipment or personnel can change everything. Things don’t go all a-flutter, however, but scientists have to be somewhat patient, and have a “Plan B” at all times. It has been very interesting for me to see how the different teams work together to adapt to changes so that everyone pretty much gets to do what they need to do or collect or see, even on a modified plan. You know what? Life is like that, too.
We did a couple of plankton tows over the day today, but they didn’t yield too much in the way of larvae. Not surprising, I’m told, for the location. But the benthic tows brought up plenty as usual, and were very muddy on this course. It took two watches’ worth of detailing to get one of the trawls done (about 7 hours). Brittle Stars and Sun Stars are no longer ‘exotic’ to me…
Dr. Ken Halanych of Auburn University in Auburn AL is the Chief Scientist of this cruise. The Chief Scientist is the top of the heap as far as the hierarchy of the science crew of the ship goes. He is the main liaison with the Captain, and mostly calls the shots for research stops (we make several a day, out here in the open sea). The general science plan goes through Ken – that is, what the other scientists on board wish to accomplish as participants on the cruise - and he coordinates the trawls and tows and even the ‘recreational stops’ with the Captain. As I said before, this is a kinetic or moveable plan, and Ken keeps the posted Plan Schedules up to date (a new one each day), even when they sometimes change from hour to hour. Can you imagine the responsibility of this job? I wonder how the man gets any sleep or keeps from looking like an unmade bed! Well, the getting sleep part, anyway. We all look like unmade beds! Today Croc, one of the chefs, baked a cake in recognition of Ken’s efforts. (A dubious honor. Yesterday he baked a cake in recognition of a wind shift, and the day before for someone’s 7/12 birthday…)
Ken has his own science agenda to accomplish during this cruise, and his focus is more on the “adult critter” populations we’re encountering here (in contrast to, but in collaboration with Rudi Scheltema’s focus on larvae). Most of what we pull up in the benthic trawls belongs to Ken and his lab at Auburn. I’ve asked him to describe for you what he is looking for in the Antarctic waters:
One of our main missions is to decide whether the strong currents that flow around Antarctica have caused some of the marine animals to be genetically different from the same types of animals in the waters near South America. As you may know, evolution is an ongoing process, and one of the things that causes new species to arise is the physical isolation of different groups from each other. When two groups of animals are separated from each other, then they can’t breed with each other any more; evolution can act slightly differently on the two groups and so, as time goes by, they can become less and less like each other. This is called ‘genetic drift’. As the two separated groups become more and more different, they can even become separate species. Currently, many of the species of organisms we’re seeing are considered endemic to Antarctica, that is, they only live in Antarctica. However, some groups of animals such as annelid (segmented) worms and sea cucumbers contain several species that are reported to occur in other areas as well as in Antarctica. If they do occur in other areas, how do individuals get from one place to the other? (see Journal #8, Rudi Scheltema’s mission)
About 30 million years ago, during the Oligocene epoch (when Antarctica and South America separated), water began flowing all the way around Antarctica (i.e., circum-Antarctic current). Before this time, the Drake Passage (which is the deep water we just crossed) was shallower, and the water didn’t flow all the way around Antarctica like it does today. We think that the stronger currents that exist there now may have isolated a lot of marine populations and created differences between those above the current and those down by Antarctica. To test this theory, we are collecting small animals of similar species from both places (and some in between, to test the swirl and eddy theory of transport) and freezing them. When we get home to our bigger laboratories, we will look at these animals’ DNA (the molecules which make up their genes) to see how significant the differences are between the groups above and below this circum-Antarctic current.
[edited text by Grant McCardell, UConn and E. Bailey, LMG]
Catch of the Day: We had enough snow overnight to build a snowman on the sorting table. There is no limit to the resourcefulness of our able ship’s crew and science personnel.
Our triangular path today started about 6 miles NE of Livingston Island, then SW and W the length of Liv. I. to Snow I., toward Smith I. Turned back due E to south side of Deception I.
