August 8, 2024 | 14.2732° S, 170.7030° W | Pago Pago, American Samoa
Thick, tropical humidity feels lighter in this strong breeze. As we stand beside the gangplank, preparing to officially board E/V Nautilus, I look around the port of Pago Pago. Massive forklifts and 18-wheeler trucks pose a stark contrast to the verdant backdrop. Beyond the rows of shipping containers, we can see lush, steep mountains, rising directly from the harbor into the misty sky.
Even though we’re in a far flung corner of the South Pacific, I smile at the familiarity of this place — I’ve been here before. During my first expedition aboard Nautilus in 2019, we sailed from Pago Pago, American Samoa to Honolulu, Hawai’i. Along the way, we stopped at various seamounts to conduct ROV dives.
But this expedition is different. For the next three weeks, we will operate in American Samoan waters, and instead of sending tried and true ROV Hercules to the sea floor, we will utilize tools and technologies from the Ocean Exploration Cooperative Institute (OECI). This expedition marks the fourth year in a row that we have brought various institutions and their deep ocean assets together to conduct multi-vehicle operations with Nautilus.
In the afternoon, I join Jason Fahy, our expedition leader, and Aurora Elmore, a Cooperative Institute Manager at NOAA Ocean Exploration, for a visit to the NOAA National Marine Sanctuary of American Samoa (NMSAS) office. NOAA facilitates the protection and preservation of over a dozen marine sanctuaries across, but this one in American Samoan is currently the largest and the only one in the southern hemisphere.
At their office, we meet with Research Coordinator Valerie Brown, who has been instrumental in co-developing our expedition science plan as well as coordinating some of the logistics and local participants for this expedition.
After a few minutes, we are joined by Atuatasi Lelei Peau, the Sanctuary superintendent and High Talking Chief. He radiates profound wisdom and esteem for this special place. It is valuable to have Valerie’s assistance with expedition planning, but we’re especially fortunate to have Atuatasi’s permission and blessing for us to conduct science operations in these waters.
Atuatasi speaks and we listen. He talks about the importance of bringing cutting-edge ocean technologies to this remote part of the planet, a place where the latest and greatest advances of the modern world often take much longer to reach.
The Ocean Exploration Trust is conducting two expeditions in American Samoa this season. With support from Atuatasi and his team at NMSAS, our expeditions have been granted the name E mamana ou Gataifale, which means your waters (or shores) have power.
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The next day, our entire team gathers in the mess aboard Nautilus for a special cultural briefing. Atuatasi has brought his team from NMSAS, as well as Tialuga “Tia” Seloti. Over the next hour, they share insights about Samoan values, language, food, clothing, and customs. Tia gives us straightforward, helpful advice: remember we are visitors in a small, tight-knit community, a simple smile goes a long way here, and we should always accept food that is offered to us.
As we listen to this valuable insight, I look around the room at all of my shipmates. When Tia tells us about how Samoan people take pride in their storied seafaring tradition and call themselves navigators, I notice a few shy grins. There are some hard-working folks on our team who call themselves navigators as well.
Afterwards, several people gather around Atuatasi and Tia to thank them. I attempt to say thank you in Samoan: fa'afetai. My pronunciation is off, but they smile at my effort. I ask Tia if there is a Samoan phrase similar to one of my favorite sayings in the nautical world, fair winds and following seas.
With its rich history of wayfinding and seafaring, the Samoan language contains many phrases along those lines, but the one Tia chooses to share with me is folau ma faamanuiaga.
It means sail with blessings.
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Two days later, I stand on the deck with Magdalene Augafa-Leauanae (Maggie), the Program Director at the American Samoa Department of Education-DCI. We are officially on our way, sailing out of Pago Pago.
We lean against the railing, staring up at the steep, lush mountains, and chat about how this harbor must be one of the most beautiful in the world.
“I’ve lived here my whole life,” Maggie says, taking in the 360-degree view from the top deck. “And I’ve never seen it from this viewpoint.”
Having local community members on board Nautilus is a big part of what makes this expedition so special. In addition to Maggie (who is sailing as our Guest Educator) we are also thrilled to have Liua Le'iato, our Ocean Science intern, and Talofa Fe’a, an intern from NMSAS.
As we exit the mouth of the harbor, the motion of the ship increases. Watching American Samoa recede into the distance reminds me of the start of our expedition in 2019. While I have spent hundreds of days in the open ocean and endured some very rough seas, I have only vomited from seasickness once – and it occurred while sailing out of this harbor five years ago.
I stumble into the mess with Atuatasi’s words reverberating in my mind: these waters have power. As the ship rocks through large waves, many members of the team feel seasick. I don’t vomit this time, but I don’t feel 100 percent either. I have just enough energy to check on Talofa and Maggie, who are laying in their bunks looking miserable. I offer them ginger ale and crackers.
“It will get better,” I say. “We’ll have our sea legs soon.”
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The next morning, I walk into the Data Lab to check in with my good friend and our Lead Navigator Lynette Davis. As we peer at a 3D bathymetric map of Vailuluʻu Seamount, Lynette explains how mapping provides critical context for our operations here.
“It gives us spatial awareness for any of the vehicles we want to deploy,” she says. “We can look for active plumes and changes in bathymetry to guide sampling efforts.”
The most active submarine volcano in American Samoa, Vailuluʻu is our main study site during this expedition. Rising 13,800 feet from the seafloor, the summit is less than 2,000 feet below the surface. If its high rate of eruptions continue, Vailuluʻu may breach the surface of the ocean and officially become an island.
“Because it has been so active in the past, we’re monitoring it closely for change,” Lynette says.
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On our third day at sea, large waves continue to rock Nautilus.
Expedition Leader Jason Fahy describes the conditions as “marginal” – meaning if things get any worse, we’ll have to call it. Working closely with the vehicle teams, Jason and Aurora create an efficient, targeted plan of operations.
But efficiency means around-the-clock work for the science team in the Wet Lab.
As soon as Mesobot comes back on deck, the scientists and interns swarm the iconic robot.
Despite seasickness and sleep deprivation, Milan Sengthep, Nina Yang, and Luke McCartin crank through sample processing: eDNA, trace metals, nutrients, and cell counts.
“We’re going so hard because that’s our only option. At the end of each dive, we think these might be the last samples we get,” Nina says.
Nina points out this is the first time that she, Milan, and Luke have worked together, and despite less-than-ideal conditions, they function as a well-oiled machine. They also receive much-needed support from our interns, Ella Ashford, Talofa Fe’a and Liua Le'iato.
“Fortunately, we all click really well,” Nina says. “It’s a lot of work to take these kinds of samples at this scale.”
The evening daily report from Jason details what we’re up against:
With a limited weather window at Vailulu'u the team is pushing hard to get as many samples collected as possible. So far, we've completed two Mesobot dives and have the DAP hooked up to the crane for deployment. We hope to get in an additional Mesobot dive before heading back to Pago Pago. Seas are expected to peak at 14 feet through Friday at which time we'll reassess next steps.
After working all night, I find Nina in the Wet Lab again around midday. She is prepping materials for sample processing, but she can’t stop checking her phone. Mesobot is back in the water, boldly going to a place it has never gone before.
Nina looks up from her phone, smiling broadly.
“I’ve never tuned in for a NASA launch. I’ve never felt the need to watch rockets taking off for outer space,” she says. “But I understand that type of anticipation and excitement now.”
She’s referring to the steady stream of messages from Dana Yoerger, who is currently giving real-time updates on Mesobot’s descent into the crater of Vailulu'u.
“Knowing this little robot is going somewhere it has never gone before – it’s unlike anything else.”
In addition to the small-but-mighty Mesobot, we also have much larger tech on board — a 12-foot tall lander called the Deep Autonomous Profiler (DAP). Getting it off the deck and into the water requires a well-coordinated effort between the deck crew and the crane operator. Because DAP has a high center of gravity and contains sensitive scientific equipment, the deployment happens in three stages: first the team slowly moves DAP across the deck to attach its weights, the crane operator lifts it up and over the side, and then finally releases the weights.
“Lowering it safely in and out of the water is a complex and demanding task,” says Deck Chief Thomas Scanlon. “But the safety of the crew involved is always at the forefront.”
While deploying and recovering the largest tool in our toolbox takes patience and skill, it is well worth the effort. After DAP is back on deck, I find Julian Blanco and Roy Gilboa in the ROV hangar, peering at a laptop.
They are looking at a file they just downloaded from DAP’s hydrophone. Julian presses play and underwater sounds emanate from the computer speakers. We can hear the rumbling of the ship and the ping of the USBL, but then another unmistakable sound resonates in the background – whale songs.
“We’ve heard them every day that we’ve put DAP in the water,” Julian says.
Because sound travels so far in the ocean, the whale songs we are hearing could be from animals dozens of miles away.
“How many people get a chance to come out to a remote area like this, deploy this specialized equipment, and hear whale songs when we’re processing our data?” Julian asks. “It’s a pretty cool thing.”
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During the final days of the expedition, the conditions become much calmer, but the power of these waters (and the alofa of this team) is more evident than ever.
On the last day I stand just outside the studio in the Control Van, smiling as I watch Maggie, Talofa, and Liua talk about their experiences on Nautilus over the past few weeks. They appear poised and confident and eager to share the stories of our exploration with their communities in American Samoa.