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Sunday, August 1, 2004 17:19:57
GMT, 10:30am ship time Somewhere off the
Queen Charlotte Islands (Canada) 51N 132W
We are in our second day of transit to
the first dive site, and still hugging
the coast, now in Canadian waters. Later
today we will veer northwest and steam
through the night to Denson Seamount,
arriving around 0600 (ship time) tomorrow.
The ship will then spend an hour or so
sea-beaming the seamount (a kind of sonar,
I think, but I might be wrong) which will
give us a bathymetric map to show us where
to dive.
Alvin will launch around 8:30am and stay
down most of the day. The Alvin launch
and recovery are always the most interesting
parts of any day on the Atlantis, so everyone
will turn out on deck bright and early
to see it. I'll write more about that
later...
Yesterday, our first transit day, was
spent in safety and abandon ship drills.
When the bell rang for the drill, we had
to race up (or down) to our cabins, grab
a lifevest and survival suit, and muster
in the main lab. There was a roll call,
then training in use of the safety gear.
The survival suit (or "Gumby suit"
as it is fondly known) is a bright orange
foam rubber contraption that is completely
water-tight and buoyant, and essential
for survival in these high-latitude waters.
So we had to practise Gumbying and De-Gumbying,
which is quite a cumbersome and comical
process. Then we were marched out to either
port or starboard side of the main deck,
to be shown the rope ladders and liferafts
that will be quite handy if the ship is
doing the "S" word.... It was
nice to find out that we have TWICE as
much capacity as we actually need in the
liferaft, so there will be no Titanic
scenarios. Seriously speaking, I have
absolute confidence in the ability of
the captain and crew to save our lives,
they are one of the most professional
bunch of people I have ever encountered.
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Today's training was much more exciting
- an Alvin dive briefing! I was thrilled
to find out yesterday that one of the
four main science groups had generously
donated a dive seat, and Catalina (my
friend and room-mate, and the expedition
coordiator) had secured it for me. So
I am now on the list of 14 science group
members who are being prepared for diving.
The first stage of this is an external
and internal demonstration of the sub.
Gavin (Alvin Electrical Engineering Tech)
took us around the sub in pairs, showing
us the manipulators (claws), lights, and
cameras, as well as the weights that allow
Alvin to descend and ascend. No power
is used going up or down, they just attach
weights at the top, go down, and drop
them when they are ready to go up.
Next we clambered up to the top of the
sub, took off our shoes, and gingerly
descended into the titanium personnel
sphere, where Bruce (Chief Alvin pilot)
was waiting. There are endless switches
and knobs that can be tripped unknowingly,
and scratches on the inside of the hatch
(from watches, jewellry etc) can compromise
the water-tight seal, so we were EXTREMELY
careful. The sphere is tiny and cramped,
only six feet in diameter, so when you
have three people in there it is very
squished. The pilot sits up front, in
front of the controls and viewport, and
the two scientific observers plaster themselves
against the port and starboard sides of
the sphere, which have their own viewports.
The main responsibilities of the observer
are to, well, observe. Both out of the
viewport, and through the cameras. There
is continous recording of video, and still
shots get taken automatically every 15
seconds, but you have to make sure the
cameras are focused. The other responsibility
of the observer is to look out for, um,
obstacles. Because, believe it or not,
the pilot has a blind spot. So we have
to be alert for outcrops of rock, Russian
subs, giant squid...that kind of thing.
We were also introduced to page 51 of
the Alvin operation manual, conveniently
placed on a shelf behind the entry ladder.
Page 51 tells the scientists how to return
the sub to the surface if the pilot is
incapacitated. No kidding. Fortunately
it is quite easy, just flick a couple
of switches and the weights are dropped,
the sub rises to the surface. As easy
as that. We also learned how to communicate
with the ship through radio, and (the
most dramatic part) how to separate the
personnel sphere from the rest of the
sub by using a kind of crank in the floor.
This would only be necessary if the sub
were trapped by aforementioned rock or
giant squid, etc., This separation results
in the sphere being propelled at great
speed towards the surface, kind of like
if you flicked a pea off the side of the
table during dinner. Apparently they have
never had to do this with people inside.
Other, more mundane, instruction included
where our lunches would be stowed, and
the somewhat basic bathroom facilities
- a bottle, with an "adaptor"
for the ladies. Hmmm. Going to try not
to have to use that with two guys about
2 feet away from me. A lot of scientists
try to "dry out" by not drinking
much the day before, but the Alvin crew
recommend against that, as dehydration
can be a big problem, especially with
the low oxygen and high CO2 levels present
in the sphere. So I guess I will drink
normally and, in absolute necessity, try
to comport myself with dignity.
Well, I'm probably nearing my 10k-per-email
size limit for this message, so I'll sign
off.
Stay tuned for the next exciting episode..
Captain Nemo
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