Well hello there. Over the next three months I'm going to be going from Japan to Australia and New Zealand... via 2 months spent on a big boat in the North Pacific. I'm part of the scientific team for IODP Expedition 324, which aims to sample deep basement rocks from a giant underwater volcanic-plateau called 'Shatsky Rise'. Should you be interested, you can follow what I'm up to here...

Monday 21 September 2009

Taunting the tempest

Ever wondered what it’s like trying to climb into the top berth of a bunk bed, on a boat, in the middle of the North Pacific, as the arse-end of a super typhoon like this one passes by?


No?
Well unfortunately I’m now in a position to tell you.
It’s tricky. Real tricky.

We've had a couple of days of pretty rough weather out here, due to the remnants of typhoon Choi Wan passing by to the east of us (you can see it approaching Japan in the satellite image above). It started out as a category 5 hurricane (fyi the scale only goes up to 5...) with 156 mph winds in the Central Pacific, but luckily by the time it got up to the latitude of Japan where we were, it had been downgraded to a trifling "tropical storm" with paltry 70mph winds.
A mere gust!

So, even though the JR is a tough old girl and us hardy sailor types (ahem) are grizzled enough to take anything Neptune can throw at us, it wasn't deemed the best idea to stay connected to the seafloor by nearly 4 km of steel pipe during such a big storm. So we finished coring (having successfully punched a hole over 50 m into basement), pulled up all that pipe in double-quick time and prepared to scarper.

The eye of the storm was predicted to pass over our drilling position on Monday, traveling at about 24 knots. Well the JR can only do 13 knots on a very good day, so... you do the math. We needed a headstart. So by midnight on Saturday we were on our way south as Choi Wan thundered past us in the opposite direction.

And even though we deliberately avoided the full force of the storm, we certainly didn't escape the huge swell that it sent in our general direction. At one point on Sunday we were caught between another weaker depression to the north of us sending waves down south, and choi Wan to the south east sending even bigger waves towards us, leading to some pretty intense rolling and pitching.

Let's just say living and working in these conditions when things are rolling off the table and you can't walk in a straight line is challenging to say the least.

I had to jam myself into my bunk with my extra pillow and some jumpers to stop me rolling about in the bed, and there were lots of occasions when my feet were above my head as we pitched up and down. (If that thought makes you feel a bit sick just thinking about it, imagine trying to sleep like that. yikes).

Needless to say i've taken enough drugs in the last few days to sedate a bull elephant. I was watching the waves with a sort of bemused interest rather than the more appropriate terror. It brings to mind that bit from Fight Club where they're looking at the airplane safety manual and everyone in the illustrations looks blissfully unaware of their plight.

"Oxygen gets you high. In a catastrophic emergency, you're taking giant panicked breaths. Suddenly you become euphoric, docile. You accept your fate. It's all right here. Emergency water landing - 600 miles an hour. Blank faces, calm as Hindu cows."

I decided to go out on deck just to see how bad it was out there at one point...well, I'm not sure "rough" really sums it up.

25ft waves.
No really.
That's 7.6 metres of angry grey and white foaming water lashing the side of the boat, soaking the deck and rolling us from side to side.

And in a strange additional quirk, because we're a drilling boat we actually have a square hole about 2x2 m called the "moon pool" in the bottom of the boat, all the way to the deck, which is permanently open to the ocean.
(Yes you heard me right, there's a big-ass hole in the boat.
Evidently we still float (although this computer room is below sea level so i can hear waves above my head right now, very strange...) which is something to do with buoyancy or something. I guess it's like how one of those inflatable doughnut things you have in the pool still floats despite having no middle? I don't know, what do you take me for, a scientist?

Annnnyway, about every 2 minutes yesterday whenever we went over a particularly large swell, the water whooshed up through the moon pool like a geyser at Yellowstone park! It was phenomenal. I'll post some pictures when my camera dries out.

In the meantime, the weather has calmed down considerably and we've already arrived at our next site on the Southern Rise where we'll hopefully stay for the next 11 days or so. It seems no sooner had we got started on writing up the findings from the last site, than the new cores from this site were already on deck! These drilling boys are pretty amazing when the weather is cooperating.

So that means another round of hectic work is about to begin. It's 3.45pm here, and well past my bedtime. I wonder what inscrutable conundrums tonight's cores will provide us with..?

I guess "Early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise".

No doubt, but this girl needs her sleep.

x

2 comments:

  1. Hello Darling,
    Glad you missed the storm- a bit worried about the hole in the bottom of the boat!
    Really glad you've got over sea-sickness- been there and it was horrible!
    Really really glad I'm not on the boat with you!
    Finishing Thesis, selling house, and teaching under-grads is a doddle compared with what you're doing. Very Exciting though!
    Lots of Hugs and Kisses!!
    Mama Baby! XxXxX

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  2. Mum...?
    Well hello and welcome to the 21st century! ;)

    Everything's fine don't worry. The boat hasn't sunk yet and the seas have calmed considerably. Now it's all about the work...
    so...tired....need...sleep...ergh.

    Good luck with the thesis etc. Nearly there, push on through!
    speak soon xx

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