October 29, 2001

Monday, October 29, 2001

Posted by Dr. R obert Feldman, Production Sequencing and Collaborations Manager, Amersham Biosciences. The DNA sequencing effort on the Extreme 2001 expedition is the first high-throughput genomic scale work attempted in the deep-sea environment and is laying the groundwork for future environmental genomic studies.

Well the end of the cruise is fast approaching, and everyone is looking forward to the traditional cookout on the back of the fantail. This year it happens to coincide with Halloween so the slate of events is full with the BBQ, Rose’s burial at sea (Tim’s late retriever-collie mix), a live concert featuring The Atlantis Deep-Sea Blue Water Band, and then an open-mike session with Chief Scientist Craig Cary.

Beyond that, everyone is looking forward to Manzanillo, Mexico, and a chance to blow off some steam and unwind with old and new friends. As you all can imagine, working on a research ship at sea is a highly specialized social environment. The end-of-the-cruise party back in port is an important time to wrap up and perhaps take stock of the events of the last 18 days. Many of the friendships made here on the ship will become life-long as frequently happens when people are thrown together in high-energy specialized environments. Common challenges successfully met tend to form deep bonds among people. Working on this ship is a prime example of that, and I consider many of the people I have been to sea with among my closest friends.

With these thoughts in mind, I have been reflecting on what motivates people to come out here 1,200 miles from land, far from family, news, and the World Series. For members of the science team, the reasons seem obvious to me. An Atlantis/Alvin cruise offers the chance for a once-in-a-lifetime experience. A chance to do something relatively unique. Fun. To visit, study, and collect samples from an ecosystem unimaginable just 25 years ago. Many of the scientists lucky enough to have the chance to dive in Alvin describe it as a life-changing event. One that usually has been dreamed of many years earlier. One that gives a new, or renewed sense of one’s place and humanity’s place on Earth.

For scientists, diving in Alvin gives one a greater sense of and appreciation for life on Earth, its marvelous diversity and adaptability. I certainly felt that way after my first dive in 1995, and I do even more today. I think this perspective is similar to what astronauts describe upon return from space flight. For me, understanding the motivation for crew members is more difficult. The crew maintains all life functions on the ship. From our air conditioning, to our plumbing, communication, ship safety, and cooking all of our wonderful meals, the crew makes everything out here possible. Technically gifted and under the leadership of Capt. George Silva, they get us exactly where we want to go on the dime. The crew is also responsible for our non-Alvin free vehicles. These deployments are often done after dinner, at night, when many of us are taking a short break and perhaps watching a movie. From my perspective, the crew doesn’t get the amount of respect they deserve. Many of them are here for the experience, others seem born for this type of life and couldn’t imagine doing anything else. And some seem to be here for the romantic lure of the sea. All are incredibly dedicated and make tremendous personal sacrifices to help us do our science. It seems to me the scientists don’t do enough to show our appreciation for them. Should we include them in our scientific papers? Christina (one of our Shipboard Science Support Group) said, “Naw, chocolate.” Dedication and selfless sacrifice. That pretty much describes the crew.

For the Alvin crew, motivation seems more obvious to me. Led by Pat Hickey, the team operates like a finely tuned Special Ops. unit. Highly skilled, close knit, they depend on each other for everything from tooling the sub to navigation from the top lab. They also depend on each other for their and our personal safety. The best show high levels of situational awareness. An almost uncanny (and difficult or impossible-to-teach skill) for knowing what could happen before it does, and making adjustments. Alvin pilots possess many of the same skills as fighter pilots (I know these well, as my brother was an Air Force pilot and flew the U2 spy plane). The chance to be an Alvin crew member means being part of one of the most elite and demanding teams in the world. In the 37-year history of Alvin, there have only been 30 – 40 pilots. On this cruise, I had the good fortune to be the Port observer on 2 PIT dives. These are dives dedicated to training potential Alvin pilots. The PIT (Pilot In Training) gets some bottom time and a chance to learn the ropes. If after a year or so, the PIT is deemed skilled enough, they are tested back in Woods Hole by Alvin Ops staff, Scientists, and the Navy. Then they may become a pilot.

On this cruise the PIT dives were taken by Anthony Tarantino and Noel Masias. Anthony has been training for about a year and is rapidly developing his skills. Noel took his first-ever dive on this cruise. On Noel’s dive, Pat Hickey was the pilot. Pat has been doing this “a long time” and is an absolute wizard on the bottom. He uses the manipulators like they are his own hands. What I learned from these PIT dives is the slope of the learning curve for Alvin pilots. Believe me, it is steep. This is about the ninth or tenth oceanographic cruise and maybe the sixth or seventh Atlantis/Alvin cruise that I have been on. My first was back in 1989 and lasted eight days. The seasickness lasted ten. As I have grown older and more experienced in my field, my perspective has changed. I now am in greater awe and appreciation for the people who work out here eight months a year. But for me, some things have not changed. Being out here with just the wind, sky, and vast blue still gives me a sense of place and balance. But more than ever, it’s a rush.