Morrigan Havely Blog Leg 3

The puzzle Victoria and I finished. Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.
The Alvin cup, shrunk during the second CTD cast at almost 2,000 m. Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.

September 7, 2024.

With a planned 18-hour transit (looking more like 22 hours at the current moment), so there were no Jason watches to get up for. After getting a full night’s rest, I ate breakfast and combated the rockiness of the ship. Although that long transit two weeks ago was rough, I was well prepared to deal with the swells of the ocean now. I thought “sea legs” was a bit of a metaphor, but you truly become acclimated to the ship’s movement after a few days. I can’t imagine how still land will feel once we dock.

Most of the morning and afternoon was spent relaxing; demobilization is predominantly done by the crew and scientists, with the only things needed from us being clean cabins and heads. I hung out with Paige, Teal, and Will in the Main Lab for a little bit, just uploading my favorite photos from the trip.

After lunch, I went up to the library to help Victoria finish a puzzle before our science meeting, which got delayed because the communications on the deployed CTD went down. After Juliet and Kyle recovered the rosette, we all went back to the Main Lab to finish up work and idea presentations for our project.

Although having to recover a CTD before full launch time is never good, it did give me the change to deploy the rosette with Paige. Deploying is a little easier than recovery, because it only takes line and involves letting go of the ties. However, in case we needed to bring the CTD back up quickly again, we set the hooks out for recovery and turned on the air tuggers. I always wonder if our work really matters on the ship, but when I first started feeling the CTD pull on the lines as it lifts, I knew that we were vital in deployment. The rosette swung side to side, only calming down once Paige and I began tugging. Even with its smooth deployment, we only got 3 depths’ worth of water samples due to a communication error once again. The project was scrapped, but the practice deploying was helpful.

After dinner, we gave our presentations on our projects. It was really interesting to see what everyone wanted to do, and the support from the rest of the VISIONS team was overwhelming. I typically get extremely anxious before presentations, but I felt almost comfortable standing up in front of everyone and explaining how I wanted to identify animals at hydrothermal vent site Dymond. Even though I’m excited to get to work on my project in Seattle, I’ll miss my time at sea and the amazing crew that made the experience memorable.

Screen shot of our strange jelly near Dymonds. Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.
Screen shot of a purple octopus. Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.

September 6, 2004

To start, what we did yesterday after 1 p.m. Our science meeting consisted of an engine room tour, led by first engineer Greg, who showed us the main control room, thrusters, and spare winches. Although the rooms were loud, I was fascinated by the pipes and huge pieces of machinery operating the entire ship. I asked Greg after what training it took to become a first engineer, and he said that each promotion (from third to second to first) included 360 days of ship time, along with several exams. I’ve talked to the captain about his training as well, and it’s interesting to me how similar the two processes were.

I slept for an hour after my watch and woke up to Juliet telling me that we’d reached Dymonds, a hydrothermal vent site that hadn’t been visited since 2014. We both rushed upstairs to the Jason control room, then back down to grab buckets like we did for the canyon tour. Dymond’s was hands-down the most beautiful site we’ve visited, with brilliant yellow rocks, rich biota, and geologic marvels that even Deb hadn’t seen in years. The vent towered over 50 meters tall, bigger than anything we’d recorded before. We also saw a strange jelly with one eye and tentacles that looked like fingers, one of my favorite sightings so far.

I watched the tour for about an hour but knew that if I didn’t return to sleep soon, I wouldn’t get the chance to until 9 a.m. again. With a stroke of luck, I awoke to see that the crew took the rest of the night until 8:30. I stayed up for a bit to get some video of the main lab and galley, then went back to bed.

Beautiful tubeworms enclosed by mysterious (bacterial/nudibrancs) sacks. Credit: UW/NSF-OOI/WHOI; J2-1666, V24.

When the 8:30 dive rolled around, I stayed with Paige and Victoria in the control van to see what cool creatures we could find on our second Dymonds dive. Before we even properly reached the site, we spotted a beautiful, purple octopus on the seafloor. It reflected brilliantly on Jason’s lights, creating a mesmerizing purple shimmer. Other cool discoveries included a huge brittle star and octocoral.

Glassy basalt and anhydrite from the seafloor, gifted by Deb. Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.

After lunch the other undergrads and I spent some time together. Paige, Victoria, and I played cribbage while Teal watched, we attended the science meeting and worked on Deb’s arts and crafts assignments. While working, Deb passed around bits of basalt and anhydrite from 1,500 m down.

Although being in the control room feels like such an immersive experience, it becomes extremely real when a piece of the ocean floor sits in your palm. I’m excited to find a spot to put them when I get home, as true testaments to my time in VISIONS 2024.

Screen shot of feather stars on the chasm walls. Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.
Beautiful tubeworms enclosed by mysterious (bacterial/nudibrancs) sacks. Credit: UW/NSF-OOI/WHOI; J2-1666, V24.

September 5, 2024

CASM tour today! Although shift delays can be stressful for the crew, it allowed me to sleep a full six hours and take my time at breakfast. When I finally began logging Jason’s journey, it was closer to 5 a.m. than the schedule time of 1 or 2. Although descent only took an hour, we spent longer trying to navigate the seafloor without a working map and issues with the USBL navigation system. Tall, daunting basalt walls threatened to harm Jason, which made navigating almost an impossible task. The pilot crew bravely pushed through, and just as Deb was ready to call it off, we discovered a huge, hydrothermal vent with a myriad worm species. It was several meters tall, with large black smokers spewing out water at 300°C. The van joked about naming it after one of our cooks, as she popped into the van to observe the chasm with us.

Once the ascension for our CASM tour started up, I went into the main lab to kill time before lunch. Deb gave us Styrofoam cups yesterday with colorable photos of Alvin stamped on, so I colored in Alvin and spent time decorating the rim. Like the cups we designed a few days ago, these cups will be shrunk by the pressure of the ocean and returned. I’ve gotten the chance to do a lot more arts and crafts than I thought I would on this ship, and I think part of it comes from Deb’s desire for us to engage in this experience in a way unrelated to the science most of us came to do. I’ve even seen some of the crew outside of the undergrads create bracelets and make Nic’s sensors, and it’s been a good bonding experience.

The Alvin cup, colored in. Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.

When I concluded my watch this morning, I spent a little time lingering in the van to check out the hydrothermal vents. A few of the Jason crew members were also inside, just observed the vents with us. I’ve learned all their names, and I was surprised when one said “hi Morrigan” when he walked in.

VISIONS is an excellent academic opportunity, and something I think everyone in marine sciences should be required to do, but what I’ve enjoyed more than the ship experience I can put on my resume is learning how to engage with people who do different things than me and live different lives. Atlantis ages range from 19-65, from Seattle to Minnesota, and include people who have been at sea for decades and others who stepped foot on a ship for their first time on the Atlantis.

I’ve heard so many amazing stories, and I’m so grateful that I’ve learned not only what it’s like to be an oceanographer on a ship, but an engineer, marine tech, Captain, and cook.

September 4, 2024

Just when I thought the wonders of the underwater world couldn’t get any better, I wake up at one in the morning to find that we’re going through canyons. I rushed out of my room and although it was the middle of the night, the control van was already packed. Deb suggested Victoria and I grab buckets for folks to sit on to watch Jason, and one of the VISIONS members even brought a small dinosaur lawn chair.

Layers and layers of basalt stacked on top of one another, creating huge pillars. We came across structures that looked like sculptures, while microbial snow flew past us. A few star appearances from spider crabs, rattails, and even a blob sculpin added to the experience, and I learned a lot about the geologic processes that created the huge, towering structures.

In 2011, during the initial eruption, lava lakes formed in those areas. The surfaces cooled rapidly, overlain by near freezing seawater. The "rinds" of the lake stayed as the lava drained from beneath leaving  bathtub rings. Leaving hollows, the seafloor collapsed leaving  crumpled talus on the seafloor. As the lava flows over seawater  and water saturated upper crust, it is superheated and vapor rises through the molten lava lake, cooling it around it and forming hollow columns that stand alone, or form large arches.

Like most of our dives, we also got to see amazing pillow basalts, where lava flowing at 1200°C like toothpast out of a tub hits water at around 3-4°C. As the crusted over outer surfaces of the pillows are breached by issuing lava, there are small explosions created by gas emitted during the extrusion. The photos are currently being processed for the dive, and I cannot wait to see them.

Most of my morning watch was spent in ascent, which gave me some time to wake up and get ready. Afterwards, I took a nap to make up for the lost sleep and woke up just at lunch began. Waking up at an irregular time on the boat threw my already precarious sense of time out the window, but it helps that there are clocks posted in every room. Learning who’s on shift also keeps me balanced, because it narrows down my range of possibilities from 24 hours (minus the ones I’m on shift) to 8.

My sensor. Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.

Today’s science meeting included Deb asking us to fill out a survey from Nic, a PhD student exploring the benefits of mental health-oriented activities on ships, as wells as do a couple of reflective arts and crafts projects. We were asked to create a sensor that would tell people how our mood was, and what they would see inside of us. The other project was to write on two Styrofoam heads: one labeled “Surviving” and the other “Thriving.” It was cool to see what other students came up with on the heads already, and how current undergraduates did their sensors. One student did a compass pointing to four different aspects, while another worked on a tree made of binary code. I decided to draw mine as a little mouse inside of a bucket, a small part of a bigger contraption. While a little silly, it gave me the chance to stretch my thinking of how others could tell my health from the mouse, if the mouse controlled my emotions or simply regulated their effects, and how the system the mouse operated changed as I gained life experience.

Nic’s project is a great way to allow us scientists to step back for a second and remember the bigger picture. It’s easy to get caught up in the small details of data without remembering how our data wholistically impacts our career, ourselves, and even society. The best research is interdisciplinary, because it allows for fresh perspectives to diversify results and communicate findings to audiences outside of the marine bubble. I can’t wait to see what Nic does with this research.

Screen grab of a Japanese spider crab, affectionately referred to on the ship as a “nope crab.” Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.

September 3, 2024

Today included probably one of my favorite dives. We were set to take some Universal Fluid Obtainer (UFO) samples for Dr. Rika Anderson’s project, which requires Jason to descent to 1,500 m and test areas near hydrothermal vents. While we were down there, we found two huge holes brimming with all kinds of tubeworm, bacteria, and even fish. We saw rattails, spider crabs, palm tubeworms, and oxidized sulfate. Basalt slabs were piled up on top of one another, creating underwater canyons and chasms larger than Jason. We spent an hour getting videos and photos of the underwater marvel, before realizing that one of our cables was not plugged in fully so we had to abort the mission.

Outside of my exciting morning, I started filming for our undergrad video project. The other undergrads and I decided to create a video that explains a little bit about the ship before the VISIONS cruise, including where important locations are and how to reach the galley, main lab, and science berthing. I wandered through the ship and searched for empty rooms, using the video camera graciously given by Mitch. I plan on processing and starting a rough video later, but I want to talk to the other undergrads about whether the video I have is useful. With the ship running 24/7, it means that seeking out everyone can become challenging, but we’ve all been great about communicating where we’re going and what time we have our shifts.

The wet lab where Teal and I washed bottles. Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.

I killed some more time by cleaning RAS bottles for Mitch, and time went by quickly as Teal and I found a system to efficiently get through two plastic storage bins of tubes. One of my favorite parts about lab work is doing repetitive tasks with another person and finding the groove of the work.

Two days ago, I came into the lab to find it packed full of people, all rushing to process samples from the most recent dive. I grabbed a pair of purple gloves and took over for Kyle, as they had to help with something else. Julie and I were rocky at first, but after a few tries we were able to place bagged water samples into neat vials with hydrogen sulfide in just a couple of minutes. It also gives me a chance to get to know my lab partners better.

For our daily science meeting, we had APL Lead Engineer Kellen talk to us about career paths and how the cable works. Kellen’s excitement for the cable’s mechanics was contagious, and the other undergrads and I spent two hours talking about instruments, ship logistics, cable, and grad school. Kellen is a great example of the kindness and enthusiasm of the crew. He loves to talk to us about the Regional Cable Array, and I’ve learned a lot about what life is like on a ship from him. With only five days left, I’ll miss seeing everyone every day.

What most of the descent (and ascent) looks like. Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.

September 2, 2024

This morning has been off to a slow start. I spent the first hour of my shift logging the recovery events of Jason, then spent an hour waiting for us to sail back to Axial Base. I passed the time with Kyle and Teal in the van, where we shared music from our generations.

Once we reached our next location, Jason was back in the water with a target depth of 2,600 m, which meant about 2.5 hours of descent time . There isn’t much to do while Jason is descending besides grab lucky shots of cool jellies and record anything that goes wrong, so the crew turned on the party light and we listened to Japanese.

Disco ball in the Jason control room. Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.

Although they let anyone connect to the speaker in the control room, I admire the bravery of those who choose to DJ for four hours on downloaded music. I strongly believe someone’s music taste says a lot about them, and it’s been interesting to get to know the other undergrads and Jason members more through what they choose to play.

Although the dives of my morning watch were uneventful, the sunrise this morning was brilliant. Teal and I took turns stepping out of the control room to stare out at the horizon, as the waves shimmered with the pink, purple, and yellow hues of the morning sun. We weren’t the only ones; several members of the Atlantis and Jason team stood on the 2nd level to see the sunrise. With most of my day spent in rooms with little light and small windows, I forget how beautiful the middle of the ocean is. Without land and light pollution, it’s possible to see things I would’ve never seen back in Seattle.

Sunrise on the sea. Credit: J. Teal, Peninsula College, V24.

Although it’s a slow day for science for me, it’s given me time to explore the ship and build relationships with the people around me. Victoria and I wrapped Deb up in a conversation about the lights in our head, and soon we had most of the other undergrads circled around Deb’s chair talking about what a video of the ship would look like. I spent twice the amount of time I usually do in the galley talking to Julie, one of the scientists aboard. Before lunch, Juliet and I stood out on the deck and watched the waves roll by, appreciating the vastness of the ocean.

After lunch, I spent some time in the Jason control room, hanging out with the undergrads on shift and talking with the Jason crew. I’ve said it a million times in my other entries, but this trip has made me truly realize that scientists, engineers, deckhands, and mates are just people too. I’ve loved getting the chance to learn about everyone, and I cannot wait to continue doing so.

Screengrab of a rattail fish spotted on my watch this morning. Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.

September 1, 2024

After last night’s party in the Jason control room, I steeled myself to wake up feeling more lethargic than ever. However, it seems life has thrown me a nat 20, because I felt more ready than I have for any shift than my 400-800 one today. I took photos of our old CTD as we swapped it with a newer one, then watched our expert pilot Korey execute a daring maneuver by pulling out a small, tight tube with Jason’s huge claw hand. We turned on the colorful light in celebration, but I left soon after to see what was happening in the Main Lab.

A few undergrads started knotting bracelets and keychains when Deb presented us with a huge, plastic bin full of rope, paracord, tutorial books, and bracelet connectors. I was worried that I couldn’t keep up with the intricacies of the knots and instructions, so I waited to do one until I was struggling to find a souvenir of my travels for my little sister.

While it’s not a cup squashed 2,500 m down, she’d probably have more use for a bracelet than Styrofoam. I started with the simplest knot the book had, and I fell in love with the initially complex yet repetitive motions. It took me awhile to start the cobra knot, but once I had it, I spent some time staring at the videos in the Jason control room while I mindlessly redid the bracelet.

Screengrab of the small orange plug compared to Jason’s claw. Credit: Paige McKay, University of Washington, V24.

Outside of the control room, the other undergrads and I took a Bridge tour today. We got the opportunity to speak with the Captain and First Mate Andrew about their experience on the R/V Atlantis, and it was cool to see how much technology controlled the boat. Captain Derek also talked about what kind of training it took to be a Captain, and I was surprised by the amount of math and testing involved. It sounded like a driver’s test on steroids.

The Bridge is one of the only places with true windows on the ship, and it was amazing to look out and truly see no land. The small glimpses through the porthole or on the lower decks didn’t quite compare.

So many surprise events today packed my schedule full, and I’m glad I get to bond with the other undergrads. We all have different perspectives and goals for our time on the ship, and although we don’t have much time for DnD anymore, we’re still bonding through control room parties, short lab demonstrations, and late-night visits to the Galley for food. I can’t wait to see what my second week on the R/V Atlantis holds!

Screenshot of tube worms and a possible scale worm nursery. Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.

August 31, 2024

And adventure we have! We are now into the point with our Jason dives where we are not just doing routine maintenance on instruments, but exploring the beautiful yet frankly strange depths of the ocean.

At 1500 m last night, we explored local hydrothermal vent systems like “Inferno” and “Phoenix,” each full of scale worms, palm worms, microbial mats, and different kinds of smokers . Deb and Mike explained a little bit about the chemistry of the geological formations, particularly why gas-rich fluids started clear then turned into smoke, which minerals were precipitating, and how different temperatures affected the minerals created in the vents.

Party light inside Jason control van. Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.

Although I was listening intently, my mind felt 1500 m down, watching life so far removed from humanity that most people don’t even know it exists. It was mind-blowing to not only witness it for myself, but knowing that the public is also able to see this in real time.

This morning’s dive was less eventful, and the greatest challenge became combating my lack of sleep. After two hours, I started feeling more alive, which allowed me to better focus on taking good photos as we replaced the 2023 RAS.

I took a short nap after my shift and helped Julie once I awoke. We took chlorophyll samples from Niskin bottles, which gave me more experience following lab procedures. Besides my small mix-up with a filter, I was surprised I processed more samples than lost. The darkness of the lab reminded me of the Jason control room, and it amazes me how much science gets done in the dark.

My 4 p.m. shift came faster than I thought it would, but it meant that we were getting to the best part of the day: Dr. Rika Anderson’s dive. She planned on sampling hydrothermal vent fluids at local sites, which meant 12 hours of exploring some of the most beautiful and isolated places in the world. Everyone knows we’re in for a long haul when dive times span over multiple watches, and the Jason crew does their best to make it fun.

Screenshot of palm tube worms and bacterial mat at hydrothermal site “Tiny Towers.” Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.

We found a plug in light to create a colorful medley of light in the back, and a disco ball for a muted but dazzling show in the front. We passed the music between pilot and hotseat, enjoying the sounds of Ariana Grande, Taylor Swift, Bastille, Korn, Shinedown, Sofi Tukker, and more. Too many movies love portraying science as a constantly serious endeavor, with folks spending hours staring at screens in a silent room.

Science is still done by people, and the longer I stay on the boat, the more I recognize that people who love science are not always the ones shutting themselves into a dark room to run code, but those who swap jokes during ROV descents and hand paint hard hats.

Jason coming up out of the water. Credit: M. Havely, University of Washington, V24.

August 30, 2024

The boat has finally slipped into a semblance of a normal routine, as I relieved the 12-4 shift for a smooth transition to 4-8 for the first time. Before I sat to start video logging, Andrew suggested Teal and I watch Jason come up out of the water. With the pitch blackness of night, the only thing illuminating Jason was the front lights and the deck, casting cinematic shadows. We even saw a fish deep below the water, yet it didn’t turn out as well on photo as I hoped.

While in the ROV control room, I spent most of my time as video logger checking to make sure the cameras were operational and trying not to fall back asleep. The dark room and gentle rock of the boat does not help, but I did wake right back up at the excited whispers of “squid!”, only to barely miss it on video grabber. While video logging is not as constant as event logging, the times I’m asked to do something count.

Jason in the day. Credit: M. Havely, University of Washington, V24.

With everyone officially on shift, it means that we won’t get the opportunity to play a full DnD session together for quite some time, but I’m grateful for the camaraderie that we built in the beginning with it. However, if our next few dives are anything like today’s, we may very well have a chance of getting together again soon.

During a dive to the sea floor, approximately 2,500 m down, the Jason team discovered a cable wrapped  around Jason. I came into the control room to observe the pillow basalts, only to find the crew discussing  what step to take next. They eventually decided to ascend and reset, yet it takes about two hours one-way to get down. Although it put us behind schedule, it gave some of us excellent opportunities to take good photos of Jason getting out of the water during the day.

Although our schedule is now offset, this gives us many opportunities to do things other than our dives. Who knows; maybe if we all get some downtime we can truly come together for a little fantasy escape.

Jason control room student setup, with me doing video logging (right) and Teal event logging (left). Credit: P. McKay, University of Washington, V24.

August 29, 2024

As a player serves the DM contingent upon scheduling, we serve the seas contingent upon weather. The weather today was too choppy to start our Jason deployment on time, which left  opportunities to spend my watch outside of the control room. Alex, Andrew, and Jolee taught me how to create highlight videos of previous dives, a task that desperately needed to be executed. When some of the other undergrads came in, Andrew taught them while I learned some new tips and tricks .

The bad weather persisted until 7 o’clock, an hour before my shift let off. I reached the control room around 7:45, which was just enough time to learn a little bit about video logging before the shift change. When the 8-12 shift showed up, I showed Victoria how to record video, grab snaps, and change cameras.

There’s never nothing to do on the Atlantis; the trick is finding someone who needs something done. Or getting over your seasickness long enough to stay up between shifts.

I sat with Juliet and Teal in the Jason control room for a little while, watching the screens capture the cleaning device as it shucked off bacteria from a 500 m cable. The water was a deep blue and almost void of any life, save for the flutter of free bacteria and the occasional jelly. I was grateful not to be video logging for this part of the dive, as Victoria consistently tried to capture moving organisms with a delayed camera.

A photo of the video editing software. Credit: M. Havely, University of Washington, V24.

Although four hours on shift seems to go in the blink of an eye, four hours waiting for a shift is a different story. I helped Mitch  with tarping a piece of equipment, an activity I was sure took at least an hour, only to find the clock hadn’t moved more than fifteen minutes when I came in. In our precruise meeting, Deb told us that time didn’t exist on the ship (as a consolation to the few waking at 11 pm or 3 am for a shift), and I’d like to argue that time doesn’t exist properly on the ship. Hours may transform into minutes or days, but I always make sure to keep an eye out for when I’m supposed to be in a place. With weather conditions improving and transit progressing, my adventure continues.

August 28, 2024

There is always a time whenever your adventurer crosses into a situation that you are sure, with all their skills and traits, they’ll pass with ease. However, when the time comes to roll the dice and secure that nat 20, you end up instead staring down a critical fail. At four in the morning, I experienced this when I ate a scoop of yogurt and lost it three minutes later.

We began transit to Axial Seamount a 20:00 last night, a journey expected to take about 18 hours. We were halfway there when I awoke to the ship rocking like I’ve never seen it rock before. It was a struggle to open the bathroom door, let alone shower, navigate the narrow stairs up to the galley, and make coffee. After failing breakfast, I retired to my quarters, hoping that the science staterooms being near the bottom of the boat would grant me some peace.

Despite my nausea, there’s no ship I’d rather be seasick on. Everyone on the Atlantis crew has been patient and understanding about our undergrads’ rotating nausea, and I’ve been given multiple tips and tricks to mitigate the dizzying effects. Carrying around an orange bucket is seen less as a symbol of shame and more of an unpleasant yet inevitable omen of what’s to come.

The day perked up significantly after, as the other undergrads began to wake up. We spent the morning excitedly discussing our previous shifts, our hopes for the day, and what to do with all this unexpected downtime.

My shift last night was spent logging events for the first time, patiently guided by one of our VISIONS ambassadors, Alex. Ctenophores floated idly by and occasionally lit up the screen with their undulating, rainbow glow, as black cod swarmed the old Deep Profiler  and RCV01 we cleaned. As daunting as the task of event logging seemed, I was comforted by the fact that smooth jazz played in the control room, with control members discussing the next song. It was a small reminder that science is still done by people, who don’t just know everything and dutifully execute tasks in perfect, machine silence. The gap between being an undergrad and a lead engineer doesn’t seem as large when you’re both rocking back and forth to Bobby Darin.

Vast ocean. Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.

Although I didn’t get to watch Jason dive again today, the other undergrads and I found a way to keep ourselves entertained. We finally started our campaign in full swing, and with everyone on the same page, drop-in meetings will be easier to conduct. The books we used and the dice we rolled came from the Atlantis’s library, a reminder that students and crew before us killed their transit time in the exact same way.

When the rocking motion of the ship became too much, we climbed the narrow stairs to the spot right outside the Jason control room, perfect for staring at the horizon. On one of these escapades, we spotted Dall’s porpoises jumping out of the water. It was amazing to see the interaction between the ship and the wildlife in a positive light.

DnD game in library. Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.

While DnD sessions may get paused for science, the spirit of community, chaos, and camaraderie doesn’t leave. It’s not chatting up mysterious cloaked figures in bars, but finding out what music people have downloaded onto their phones for Jason dives is just as entertaining.

View looking east from the NOAA dock. Credit: Morrigan Havely, University of Washington, V24.

August 27, 2024

On our very first night (the 26th), the other undergrads and I decided to start a DnD party, as a great way to find entertainment in something vaguely familiar while having no internet and no familiarity with our surroundings. We spent a very sleep-deprived hour creating characters, explaining backstories, and finding the best way to roll the dice to decide traits. This first complete day on the boat felt similar.

I started the morning with an amazing breakfast and exploring more of the ship, still getting used to the environment. Watching the sun rise through a small galley porthole felt like the mark of a new adventure, quests still unwritten but ready to find out more. When the ship finally pulled away from Newport, I could almost hear our DM beginning the exposition. We met at 8:00 for a Safety Meeting, where ship officers led us through the process of preparing for an Abandon Ship event, using an immersion suit, and escaping our quarters if the stairs set fire. By the time lunch rolled around, we had learned almost everything we needed to know about the ship and the Jason control room. Stepping into the control room felt like entering a whole new world, a dark dimension occasionally pierced by the light from the crack of the door. It was relieving to know that we were only in charge of three monitors between two people, not the monolithic setup shown on the Atlantis website.

A group of us went up to the library after lunch to read through some of the Jason training materials and attend our daily science meeting. However, the crew was sure we were going to fail our constitution checks and none of us had the real knowledge to set up our projects, so the meeting was postponed. This gave me and my shift partner more time to unlock the secrets of the ROV, in the very same room the rest of the undergrads explored the mysteries to Ravenloft.

As my first session comes to an end, I’m excited to see what future quests I receive after finishing this tutorial. I might not have the same magical abilities as my cleric, but I’m sure that with the Atlantis team it’ll be nothing but smooth sailing.