Settling In

"Scientists At Work"

Leaving Woods Hole, we had 8 days to get to Nuuk, Greenland where we'd pick up a team of oceanographers from the University of Washington. The HiWinGS team and I would use this transit to fine-tune our instruments. The chief scientist of HiWinGs and I would operate our instruments during the UW cruise while the rest of HiWinGS would leave Greenland by plane.

It was valuable time at sea and I felt lucky to have it. Any field researcher can tell you that most instruments take time to "settle in" to a new locations. With all their joints and circuitry, things can shift and react to new environments in unexpected ways.

Instrument are surprisingly human in that way. They can be sensitive, temperamental even unreasonable, usually at the most inopportune times. Other days, they can be simplistic and easy-going. Most of the time, you never really find out why.

Happy Hour. (Not really).

The first few days leaving New England were picturesque and unlike any weather we've seen since. We glided through flat, shimmering seas at a satisfying clip. During breaks, science and crew alike sprawled out all over the ship to bask in the bright yellow sun.

The instrument also seemed to be in a good mood, so I had time to start settling in myself. I had my own berth, a large room towards the front of the ship. Looking through the half-dozen or more impeccably placed drawers, I did a quiet fist pump for bringing three extra pairs of shoes and twice as many clothes as I probably needed. If I went crazy on this boat, it sure as hell wasn't going to be from the lack of slip-on canvas shoes or an extra pair of jeans.

I soon discovered ship meal times are strict and absolute. Breakfast at 7 was similar enough to my routine at home. Lunch followed swiftly at 11:30. By dinner at 5 PM, walking to the mess hall just felt like surrender. On top of the relentless meal schedule, the cooks on the Knorr are known for being extremely generous with their portions. As talented as they are (Filet mingon? Pecan and panko crusted eggplant?), most days I ended up tossing half my portions into the trash.

By the end of the second day, it had circulated through most of the crew that I was going to be on the ship as long as they would. One of the engineers, a barrel chested ex-football player with a handle bar mustache and aviator glasses from the 60s, approached me one day.

"Is it true?" I gave him a wary look, not sure where this was going. "Is this really your first cruise?" I nodded slowly. "Well holy shit!" he laughed. "You picked a helluva cruise for your first!"

I smiled and shrugged at his good-natured teasing, but I knew what he meant. Most of my classmates at Scripps get their first cruise experiences during an afternoon field trip our first year. They don't venture more than 45 minutes away from shore and you aren't expected to do any of the heavy lifting. Though many go on to spend months and years away from home in places as far away as Antarctica, you get a chance to decide if cruises are for you.

I'd given myself a pretty steep learning curve. Before we arrived in Nuuk, I'd learn just how steep.