San Juan, Puerto Rico | July 24, 2022 | 18.4632° N, 66.1132° W
Finding my way around a research vessel for the first time always makes for a long day. Long, but good.
After hauling my massive duffel bag and backpack on board, I check in with Second Mate Molly Smith to receive a rapid COVID test. I wait 10 minutes, show her my negative result, and initial a sheet of paper. Then I turn to Ken Kostel, Director of Research Communications at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution (WHOI).
“Let’s go this way,” he says, pointing through the nearest watertight door. “I’ll show you my favorite places to get good shots.”
On the aft deck, Ken points out where I can and cannot go when the sub is being deployed or recovered. He also offers up some key insider info on where to get the best shots of Alvin in action.
What is Alvin?
For oceanographers, marine scientists, and anyone else with a keen interest in deep sea exploration, HOV (human occupied vehicle) Alvin is a household name.
For everyone else, here is a brief overview: named for Allyn Vine, a WHOI engineer and geophysicist who helped pioneer deep submergence research and technology, Alvin is a specialized deep sea submersible. Since it was first constructed in the late 1960’s, Alvin has been transporting some of the world’s most adventurous and curious humans (three at a time) to the seafloor. Some of its history-making adventures include discovering “black smokers” on the seafloor near the Galapagos Islands in 1979, and photographing the wreck of the Titanic in 1990.
But right now is a particularly exciting time to be working with the infamous sub. After two years of overhauls and upgrades, Alvin can now dive deeper than ever before. Its old limit was 4,500 meters, but just this past week, it earned a new official depth rating of 6,500 meters (21,350 feet).
As we meander around Atlantis, Ken introduces me to Alvin pilots and engineers, including Bruce Strickland (who I’ve heard great things about from Michelle Cusolito) and Bob Waters (who I’ve sailed with several times on Nautilus). I’m reminded of how small this world is, and I feel grateful that it includes so many good people.
On some expeditions, I am the only outreach/communications person. But for this one, I’m lucky to be working alongside Karen Romano Young, a science comic illustrator and professional explorer who I have followed on social media for years. Even though this is our first time meeting in person, Karen and I exchange enthusiastic greetings and hug like old friends.
Adam Soule, our chief scientist, also gives me a hug and we immediately begin chatting as if we’ve known each other for a long time. In a way, we have — for over a year, we’ve exchanged dozens of emails and scheduled multiple Zoom calls. Finally being here with the whole team, preparing to go on this epic adventure that we’ve been talking about for so long, feels immensely satisfying.
In the afternoon, while the science team organizes equipment in the main lab, the captain of Atlantis, Derek Bergeron, walks in and introduces himself.
“Welcome aboard!” he says, giving me a solid handshake. “Is this your first time on Atlantis?”
I tell him I’ve worked with Woods Hole folks before and I’ve spent a lot of time on other research vessels, but yes, this is my first time sailing on Atlantis.
“Fantastic. We’re happy to have you! If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask me, or any member of the crew.”
Such warm greetings are not uncommon on research vessels, but they are always appreciated – especially in a workspace that is familiar to others but completely new to me.
I smile, say thank you, and then tell Derek about a conversation I had with a member of the science team yesterday afternoon, during which we discussed the various ships we’ve both sailed on.
“Erik said of all the ships he’s worked on the Atlantis is his favorite. He said it’s got the best people.”
Derek smiles. “That’s what we like to hear!”
The next morning, Ken Kostel packs up his camera gear, and officially signs off from his role as outreach coordinator on the ship. Turning to me, he says, “if I had a baton, I would pass it to you.”
“Roger that,” I say. “I’ll send you lots of good stuff.”
Later in the afternoon, we go through ship orientation. It includes all the usual stuff: meal times, internet access, rules regarding safety, and perhaps most importantly, the importance of being a good shipmate.
Marian Tudoran, the Chief Mate, elucidates this point in a way I’ve never heard before.
“We are a small, contained society out here,” he says. “Your presence, as an individual, will never be felt more strongly than it is here.”
Less than 24 hours later, the R/V Atlantis leaves the dock. As San Juan recedes in the distance, the Caribbean sun blazes directly above us and a strong wind blows across the bow. Dolphins swim and jump in our wake. I snap a few photos, chat with my new shipmates, and embrace the unique feeling that can only come at moments like this: we are going to sea!
In the afternoon, we arrive at our first dive site and the Alvin team begins preparing for the first science dive since the new 6,500 meter certification. The Alvin group leader and most senior pilot, Bruce Strickrott, hands a clipboard to Adam.
“Ready to sign off on Alvin’s deepest science dive to date?”
Adam takes the clipboard and signs the pre-dive checklist. It’s official — we’re ready to go to work in the deep ocean.