July 14, 2023 | 49.198731°N, -135.536408°W | Northern Pacific Ocean
Why do we insist on this fabricated idea of having one calling in life?
Sitting in the Data Lab aboard E/V Nautilus, I feel a flurry of emotions: excitement, exhaustion, nervousness, and a bit of disbelief.
My shipmates and I have been at sea for the past three weeks, conducting seafloor exploration and maintenance operations off the coast of British Columbia with Ocean Networks Canada. It has been a long, busy, and highly productive expedition, and everyone on board is tired and looking forward to wrapping up our work. In two days, we will return to port in Sidney and the entire science/engineering team will disembark — everyone except for myself and Lead Navigator Lynette Davis. We are staying on board for the next expedition.
And we just found out we’ll be leading it.
An hour ago, Allison Fundis called me into her cabin to ask if I would be willing to take on the position of Expedition Leader for the next leg. She explained that I would share the role with Lynette.
“Everyone has been really impressed with your leadership,” Allison said kindly. “And we wouldn’t ask you to do this if we didn’t think you could handle it.”
I recalled my first expeditions aboard Nautilus in 2019 and 2020, when the expedition leaders were Dwight Coleman and Nicole Raineault. As a newbie on Nautilus, I thought the position looked stressful. I remember thinking I’m glad that’s not my job.
But perceptions change and mentalities evolve. The further I advance in my career, the more I feel drawn to positions of leadership. During this most recent expedition (my 10th aboard Nautilus) I worked as the Communications Lead for the first time. In addition to producing content, I’ve been managing a team of four people, balancing a watch schedule, and juggling a myriad of tasks — and I’ve enjoyed it.
So when Allison asks if I’m willing to be a Co-Expedition Leader, I immediately say yes.
Now I’m sitting in the Data Lab with Allison, Renny, and Lynette, trying to wrap my head around all the new tasks and responsibilities I’ll be taking on over the next few weeks.
Allison runs through a detailed, color-coded Google doc. Lynette and I take notes and ask questions. After discussing details related to logistics, safety, communication, and conflict resolution, Allison says, “the biggest thing is just making sure everyone on board is happy, healthy, and has a positive experience.”
As we wrap up, Lynette admits she’s nervous. “I don’t know what I don’t know.”
She’s right. Being an expedition leader encompasses more than following instructions on a Google Doc. Even with all the information laid out in front of us, and first-hand knowledge from Allison and Renny, there are bound to be issues or situations we can’t anticipate right now.
Boss ladies on the back deck. So grateful to have a badass like Lynette Davis by my side during this adventure.
I muster as much confidence as I can for both Lynette and myself.
“We’ll be alright,” I say firmly. “Throughout my freelance career, my mentality has been figure it out as you go. We’ll just figure it out day by day.”
Allison nods encouragingly. “And we’ll be here for you – you’ll have plenty of support from the Captain, the Chief Officer, and from everyone on shore.”
I fist-bump Lynette. “We got this.”
Our first day is long. After a frenzied port call and impossibly fast turn-around, we set sail out of Sidney to begin our long journey to Honolulu. My to-do list doesn’t seem to end: collect passports, memorize names, review confidential medical information, take headshots, update the website, write the first Situation Report, and ensure everyone is adjusting okay to life at sea.
The majority of our team is interns (mostly in their early 20’s) and none of them have worked on a research vessel before. In the first 48 hours, I answer what feels like a million questions. Little things – like where to find toilet paper or Tylenol or laundry detergent. One of the interns is concerned about mold on the shower curtain.
I feel the urge to roll my eyes and say “yeah, we’re in the middle of the ocean. Things get moldy sometimes.” But instead, I channel the professional, diplomatic demeanor that I’ve seen Allison exhibit so often and say, “thanks for letting me know. I’ll see what we can do about it.”
——
As with every expedition, routine is key. Each morning, before I even drink coffee, I walk into the Data Lab to check in with Lynnette. She is on top of everything, methodically charting our course and managing the many technical components of navigation and mapping operations. Even when she’s feeling stressed, she never appears overwhelmed or frantic. Her calm composure and laidback attitude is exactly what you want to see in a shipmate and a leader.
A few days in, I text with one of my shipmates from the previous expedition, and he asks how things are going. I tell him it’s mostly smooth sailing so far and he says, “I’m not surprised in the least. You’re as boss as they come — I’m sure you’ve got that ship running like clockwork.”
It's not exactly clockwork, but we’re doing it.
As an expedition leader, I become much more aware of my movements throughout the day. Typically I wouldn’t think twice about going back to my room, closing the door, and enjoying some alone time for an hour or two. But as the main point person on board, I feel like I should be accessible at all times. I leave my door open. I grab my laptop and sit on the social deck or in the mess so I can be available and easy to find.
I try to be intentional about forming connections with each member of our team. On a typical expedition with dozens of people, I would gravitate towards shipmates who have similar interests, values, and demeanors — the ones who also travel constantly, the ones who love live music and extreme adventures, the ones who lean into non-traditional lifestyles and prefer the road less traveled.
But now, as one of the leaders, I need to establish connections with everyone, no matter how different we may be. When I sit down at breakfast one morning, a few of the interns are chatting about music festivals. One says they have only been to one festival, but he didn’t enjoy it much. Another says she would never go to a festival.
I eat my cereal in silence. I spent most of my 20s attending music festivals all over the country. It’s not my regular scene these days, but I would definitely still go to one and enjoy it.
During lunch the next day, the topic of conversation is baby names. One of the interns turns to me and asks if I want to have children.
“Nope,” I say immediately. “I’ve always known I don’t want children.”
Every young face at the table looks at me in disbelief — then they return to their lists of names. I can’t believe these kids would rather brainstorm baby names than consider attending a music festival. I want to yell “enjoy your youth! Stop trying to rush through life!” But I resist.
Not every topic conversation leaves me feeling exasperated though. In fact, some of the interns initiate discussions that surprise me — and challenge me.
Ask smart people hard questions. Daveenah Guise pushes me (and others on board) to share their experiences and their “wisdom”.
On one particularly frenetic morning, I sit down on the social deck and try to catch my breath. I’ve been awake since 4:30am. I’ve been on the phone with Allison Fundis and Bob Ballard, switching satellite feeds and facilitating a last-minute video interaction requested by Bob. I’m thankful I finally have a minute to review my notes for the live event I’ll be hosting in the studio in 30 minutes.
Daveenah Guise, one of our mapping interns, sits down at the table. After a minute, she says, “Marley, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” I say, absently, barely glancing up from my notes. “What’s up?”
“What wisdom do you have for me?”
Oh jeez. What a question. “For your career?” I ask. “Or for life in general?”
“Both,” she says, smiling. “That’s the main thing I’ve been wanting to get out of this internship – I want to ask everyone to share their wisdom.”
I could tell her it’s really not the best time for a life chat. I could tell her my brain is fried right now. But instead, I shut my laptop, put away my notes, and give Daveenah my full attention.
I tell her it’s important to find meaning and fulfillment in multiple facets of life – not just in a job or career path. I tell her about a fantastic article I just read titled Stop looking for The One, which argues how and why we should veer away from strict definitions of ourselves and remain open to new opportunities and affinities.
We talk about imposter syndrome. She asks me if I can point to one defining moment or experience that changed the trajectory of my career. I tell her about the very first expedition I ever joined – on a volcano in southern Chile in 2015.
I tell her it’s good to have goals and to make plans. But it’s essential to be open to different kinds of opportunities. “Don’t be surprised or disappointed when things don’t work out exactly as you might have envisioned – there are so many amazing possibilities out there.
She asks me about confidence, and where my confidence comes from. I tell her it mostly comes from experience.
“I wasn’t confident in my abilities when I first graduated from college because I didn’t have much experience,” I say. “But now I have over 10 years of professional experience, including almost six years of running my own business.”
I compliment Daveenah on her curiosity and her forthright desire to learn from people who have been doing this kind of work for a while. I remind her it’s okay to ask for help, and I tell her about the many people who have cheered for me along the way. Strong female mentors, colleagues, and friends make all the difference. In my life, some of those women have been my mom, Dee Reid, Kim Spurr, Layla Dowdy, Katelyn Bryant-Comstock, and Allison Fundis.
These are people who not only tell me they believe in me — they lead by example. They exemplify boss lady behavior, which includes lifting others up as you climb.
As I share all these reflections with Daveenah, it suddenly hits me: I have become one of these women.