August 4, 2024
“Jolee. Jolee,” I woke to the whispers of my name through the cracked door. Julie had come to wake me for the long-awaited lava channel tour that Deb was going to give us. My usual morning starts at 2:40 AM but today started at 12:30 AM. I hurried to get ready, afraid I would miss the first sights of the channel and the tour from Castle to Skadi. When I arrived upstairs, we were still in the process of descending down to 1500 meters and Julie was waiting.
We made our way to the 02 deck and stepped out into the crisp morning air. Before I stepped into the Jason control van, I glanced up. There to meet us for our early morning excursion were the stars. The first clear sky we’ve had during this leg of the cruise. Breathtaking and alive above us, the stars shimmered down, a beauty for the eyes to behold. But space wasn’t the frontier we were exploring today. We climbed into the control van and were met by 19 other scientists, engineers, and students all crammed in to watch the show. There were more bodies than normal in the van, making it warmer than usual. I was thankful for the warmth as I usually freeze when on watch in there.
When we arrived at the bottom, we traversed east to find ourselves at the lava channel. The trek was slow. Not slow in a bored kind of way, but slow in a methodical, commit-every-inch-to-memory kind of way. We zoomed in on pillow basalts, rattails, bath rings of lava frozen in time, and everything in between. Every inch of the channel was covered in something beautiful, from the life of the tubeworms bushed together around seeps in the ground to incredible basalt structures from a previous lava lake that had meandered its way along the deep ocean floor. It looked like we were traveling through ancient ruins, ones left behind and forgotten by the world, but no less stunning.
The dive lasted around three hours and ended at Skadi, a site that used to display a beautiful snowblower after the 2015 eruption. It was an incredible experience to get to go on that journey with Deb and all the people onboard the Atlantis. Something few people get to see. The dive concluded with a couple members of the team and student group getting to practice being in the hotseat (the position of the scientist running the dive) and a couple lucky people had the opportunity to pilot Jason himself.
Once the show was over and we were headed to the surface, I stepped into the hotseat to record the major events of the rest of the dive. And though the dive was over in the eyes of everyone (all had left the van at that point), there was still something special about the van. The Jason crew is one of a kind. They claim it’s the months at sea and what happens when everyone starts to get weird, like when you stay up too late and everything becomes goofy. I believe that, some have been at sea since June, but I think it’s also something more. There’s a joy, comradery, or a combination of things that exists among the crew that is beyond special.
The van is continuously full of laughter, music, jokes, stories, and pure childlike joy. A Peter Pan childlike joy in a way. I love every minute I’m in there. It is one of my favorite things about being at sea. Getting to see the personalities of the teams, hear their stories, talk with them (or even just sit in the back and listen), and getting to share the weeks at sea with them is such a gift. I can’t explain it very well. I guess, like the lava channel that morning, it’s something that is hard to put words to. One you must experience.
After the van fun, one of the students and I stepped out on the bow to witness the stars before the sun rose. It was gorgeous. Orion and Pleiades were running across the starboard side and the night was silent and still besides the lapping of the waves.
Altogether, this morning was an incredible experience. Forever etched in my memory – the beauty of the stars, the ruins of a lake of lava, and the palpable childlike fun of the van.
August 1, 2024
Roughly a year ago, I found myself with the incredible opportunity to spend two weeks aboard the UW ship the R/V Thomas G. Thompson. I was sailing with scientists and engineers from the University of Washington and an ROV team from Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution researching Axial Seamount and maintaining the Regional Cabled Array (RCA). It was an experience of a lifetime and something I never dreamed of having the chance to be a part of.
Fast forward a year, and I have found myself seven days into a two-week cruise aboard the R/V Atlantis, the Thompson’s sister ship. Not just a student, but now a student employee and member of the science team. Five months ago, Deb offered me a position on the RCA team as an undergraduate research assistant. Over the last couple months, I have learned a tremendous amount from Andrew Paley and Alex Rose, the laboratory technician and undergraduate research assistant/student ambassador (respectively). In the office, I’ve learned how to build the pumps used in the CAT flow meter and OSMO fluid sampler, sample coils filled with fluids collected from previous cruises, how to acid clean and prep sampling bags for the RAS, and perform gas chromatography, along with many other skills. The cruise has brought me into another world of learning, one that occurs a little more on the fly and keeps me active for the majority of my twelve-hour shift.
I have loved learning and have thoroughly enjoyed the adventure that each new day brings, knowing no day – whether in the office or at sea – will be the same as the last. But it’s not just the work we do that draws me to the RCA. It’s also the people. Though I stand around famous oceanographers, scientists who were part of the team who shattered the world of science with the discovery of Lost City, a lab tech certified in falconry (among many other things), and people possessing many other achievements, they live in such humility. You would never know of their achievements or status in the world of science by the way they interact with or talk to people. You only find out by listening closely to the stories they tell that hint at amazing discoveries and once-in-a-lifetime experiences. I find myself witnessing laughter, joking, and teasing throughout every day and a family of scientists who hold each other in such high respect and are passionate about the work they do, and yet, never take things too seriously – even when a dive doesn’t go their way.
I never dreamed I would have the pleasure of joining this incredible group of people, but I stopped the other day – four days into Leg 3 of our summer cruise – and realized that I stand amongst them, knowing far less and still fumbling to even make simple tie-down knots, but welcomed in with such warmth and patience.
This job is truly a chance of a lifetime. And the last couple months have changed my view of science and what it means to do science. Science is about growing and being willing to grow, with each person having something to contribute. It’s not just for those who hold a specific degree or for those who know what they’re doing. Science isn’t possible without climbing and then reaching back to pull others up, and that’s what I’ve had the blessing of experiencing since my start at the RCA. People willing to slow down, be forgiving and patient, and share all they know. When science is like this, we’re all better for it and it becomes approachable and attainable.
The cruise in 2023 introduced me to the world of field science at sea. The cruise in 2024 has been full of learning about how we do that science. It has been an immense joy getting to sail on this cruise because of the people, learning being done, and joy of being at sea. Thank you, RCA, for the opportunity to join you all on an adventure of a lifetime. An adventure I’m excited to continue down in the year to come.