Stanford@SEA

The Last Sunset

2011-06-10T20:13:00.000-07:00

The last week of Stanford@SEA is an endurance test. Our students finished their oceanographic project presentations which were exceptional in all regards, worked up their last star sights, and completed research papers in oceanography and a book review for conservation biology. All under conditions where the seas were a bit tougher than we hoped for, particularly as we navigated to conduct one last oceanographic station in the vicinity of Cross seamount. Here we were lucky and picked up spectacular baby swordfish and potentially our first ever 1 day old blue marlin in a 2 meter net (we will have to check with DNA). We crossed the Alenuihaha Channel (which means literally in big winds in Hawaiian) between Hawaii and Maui on a moonlit evening.

Sails up, and wind pushing us hard- with the motor to help us point in the right directions for our final port of call in Honolulu.

We arrived on a warm day after a wonderful evening where we held a "swizzle" where we played music, shared poetry, stories and emotions about the trip as the wind whipped through the rigging near Lanai. Our time together has come to a close but we're all very thrilled to have safely sailed 3000 nm to a pristine sea, to coral gardens, Palmyra, Christmas Island and the vast Pacific.

We had an exceptional team this trip aboard ship, led by Sea Scientists (Laura, Katy and Anne) and on deck Captain Phil, and Mates (Rick, Molly and Austin). The galley was made more fun with Sayzie and engineering was tough on this trip- with many small problems but super capable folks handling all aspects of the ship (Tom and Zena). We left with 38 aboard, and came home with 37 (Rob had departed in Palmyra). I particularly enjoyed having one of my mentors aboard ship from Palmyra to Honolulu-- Dr. Joe Bonaventura, who we named the "Director of Morale" Joe, listened to students, helped on projects and baked something almost daily for snacks or meals, and our sea physician Dr. Mike Lipnick (One of my former post-docs who was also inspired early on by Dr. Bonaventura made a wonderful film about the trip shared with all the last night.

We had this year aboard ship helping on every watch with students- a terrific trio of Stanford graduates teaching assistants (Dane Klinger, Chelsea Wood, Sverre Leroy) and our 3rd mate also hailed from Stanford- the IPER graduate student (Austin Becker). All and all S235 will go in the books as a wonderful trip- to pristine seas at Kingman, that provided vistas and experiences beyond expectations. We learned there were places on Earth that humans had not yet impacted and the power of these places (Kingman Reef & Palmyra Atoll) provided strength and inspiration to a new generation of ocean explorers.

B Watch

2011-06-06T06:19:00.000-07:00

B watch is currently on watch, having taken over the lab and deck from A watch at 0300. We're spread throughout the vessel, everyone doing their job and watching as the sun, not quite yet up, slowly lights the eastern horizon while the stars fade away. It's a quiet time as the rest of the ship's company sleeps. At the helm, Sverre steers the ship, powered only by sails and NE trade winds. Andrew roams between the quarterdeck and the doghouse, checking the radar and chart and fulfilling his duties as junior watch officer (J-WO) this morning. Annie stands on bow watch, no doubt lost in thought about the beauty of the morning. Julia just headed off to perform a boat check, and Laura makes an appearance on deck, taking a brief break from the galley and her job as steward for the day to join in the sunrise appreciation. Good thing she left the personalized chef hat that her watchmates surprised her with when they woke her up below decks. We would hate to see such a unique thing get blown overboard! After all, it's not every hat that comes with a homemade medallion featuring a chef cat declaring, "Only you can prevent a galley cat-tastrophe." Sarah, Aaron, and Josh have also come up on deck from below where they, as the dawn lab-watch team, have been hard at work on their science projects. Josh, this morning's junior lab officer (J-LO), has been ensuring that all lab work still gets done despite the project focus. Austin and myself, rendered nearly obsolete by the junior watch officers, just finished a morning "star frenzy,"shooting the stars with a sextant in order to determine our location. Everything besides the motion of the ship seems to pause as we wait for the sun to appear above the horizon.

Time: 1905
A posterboard recently appeared in the aft starboard head reminding us to appreciate the small moments. People have added things like, "Discovering your bunk fan has a 'high-speed' setting," and, "Using a head right after it's been cleaned." Sunsets, always looked forward to with anticipation, has also been added to the list. Once again, life pauses for a moment as we gather to watch tonight's colorful sky. As opposed to sunrise, the majority of the ship's company spreads out along the port rail gazing at the horizon and hoping to see the notorious green flash that sometimes comes with sunsets at sea. You know you're living in a differently paced world when your whole community gathers for a moment like this. B watch just started the evening watch and Sarah and Julia, the junior deck and lab officers respectively, confer over what needs to get accomplished in the next 4 hours. Laura, basking in the completion of a delicious day of cooking roasted chicken and potatoes, pauses with musical triangle in hand, before ringing up the second dinner seating. She joins the sunset patrol, while Andrew contemplates the dishes and galley clean-up that await. Aaron is at the helm, and Josh, Annie, Austin and myself join in the sunset-watching moment. A hush falls and the sun slowly dips below the horizon. Sadly no green flash tonight, but there's always tomorrow.

Till then,
-Laura Nelson (Asst. Scientist) and Austin Becker (3rd Mate)

Thoughts on the Last Leg

2011-06-05T07:39:00.000-07:00

As we begin the last leg of our journey, I would like to describe my experience aboard the Robert C. Seamans to you, but I am afraid it is inexpressible. You see, this is one of those moments in life that you have to experience for yourself.

During our journey thus far, the sea-sickness monster had its way with many of us, including me. However, we have gathered as a community and overcame our obstacles. No longer are we eating saltines and ginger ale for dinner (to all you parents, that is not what they serve us for dinner but a great option when feeling sea-sick). No longer are we awkwardly stumbling over our feet as the waves rock the boat by-and by. We have earned our sea legs. We watch each other’s backs. We heave and ho as a unit. We cook for each other. Clean for each other. Care for each other. We have learned that one strand of string can easily be broken, but a rope entwined with many is strong enough to brace a mains’l. We work as a community, not afraid to get on our hands and knees together and clean the soles (floor of the boat) with a sponge and bucket of water. [I am inclined to say that the boat is cleaner that most of the people on the boat! We keep the boat even cleaner than my home in Tennessee. My mom would be proud.] I will spare you the details (you may not know how much you will appreciate this courteous gesture) of the smell that we are acquiring as our journey progresses. It is not the smell of the ship or the oceanic specimens we have collected. My dear reader, it is that of your loved ones. It is the smell of a shirt that remains unchanged---for days; it is the smell of your child who has not bathed in a week. If you could only see the beaming smile on one who flaunts a freshly laundered shirt or washed hair after a freshwater shower (even if it lasts only a few hours).

As we embark on our journey, some of us like to imagine ourselves as sailors, others as scientists, and some as pirates. Personally, I succumb to my generation’s media and glorification of a pirate and will hesitantly admit that I find myself every so often singing “A Pirate’s Life for Me” or humming the Pirates of the Caribbean theme song while on lookout at the bow.
Epicness in its entirety.

Together, we have embarked on the ultimate adventure. I yearn to describe to you the way the world looks from the bow during a clear starry night. The way the deep velvety waters cloaks our path like an ebony satin sheet. The salty mist of the sea spraying our sun-kissed faces as the sun plays peek-a-boo with the horizon. How the stars sing to us in their own version of Morse code while the night’s shooting diamonds wish us a safe journey home. A photograph cannot capture the electric blue pigment of the ocean or the magnificent bioluminescence as the night waves crash against the side of the Seamans. Words cannot articulate how the moon manifests its mastery over the night sky or the majestic fashion in which the Milky Way transcends the heavens. I wish you could share our joy as we cry “Land ho!” together when we first see the contour of land silhouetted against the azure sky. If only I could bottle up the smell of the sea and bring home with me.

If only I could share the feeling of having absolutely nothing in sight for miles or take you along with me on the head-rig as we sail away --with dolphins swimming along our bow. Only here have I been able to watch the sun completely traverse the sky, rising in the east and setting in the west; a recurrent phenomenon I will never forget.

This is a humbling experience, to say the least. The power of the ocean dominates our course and its mystery enchants our intellect. Being one of 39 people on a boat in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, I cannot help but imagine the thousands of souls that have sailed this ocean before me and have lost their lives to the high seas. It is far too easy to look over the rail and see the water and the sun—what is viewable to the human eye—and forget about the beauty that lies beneath the ocean surface.

-Calah Hanson

Haiku Moments at Sea

2011-06-03T14:39:00.001-07:00

a tiny tuna
said “hi” to us fisherman
as I ate its heart

a giant tuna
it wanted to say “hi” too
a shark said hi first

palmyra – pristine
kingman reef – untouched beauty
sharks- TERRIFYING

one double rainbow
then, a ghostly gray moon bow
fluctuating light

swing swing a lone rope
dangling, enticing, calling
jump, jump it’s shallow

row row row your boat
gently on the “Gene” (you see)
life is but a dream

the atmosphere drops
“plitter platter” the sky falls
“HANDS TO STRIKE THE SAIL”

jig to catch a squid
caught three :“Jesus”, “Bart”, “Princess”
Princess ate Jesus

dolphins are lazy
they dance around the bow wave
frolicking all day

bonfires, dance parties
christmas in may, gift exchange
dancing life away

our watch climbed the mast
overlooking paradise
no comparison

the world is all wrong
small lights speckle the dark sea
while a squall beats us

--Josh Coronado

Following the Birds Home

2011-05-30T13:53:00.000-07:00

I grab a pair of binoculars from the wall of the lab and head out to the quarterdeck with a sometimes reluctant, sometimes excited fellow classmate. For ten minutes we scan the horizon on either side of the boat looking for any possible flap of a wing, every possible soaring bird, any sign of life over the big blue ocean. My classmate Annie and I are interested in where we see birds during our trip because we are working on a project on seabird distribution, and are interested in why we sea birds where we see them. Is it related to how far they are from land? Does it say something about how much food is in the water they soar above? Being some of the only visible organisms in this watery world, birds have the potential to answer many scientific questions about productivity and ecology in the open ocean. Being an ecologist, my interest in seabirds was purely in this ecological frame of mind until, after a chance encounter on a walk through the streets of London, Kiritimati Island, I found out that other people have considered birds important for reasons other than being ecological indicators.

A hand-painted sign along the pot-holed main thoroughfare of London, Kiritimati Island, advertised the "Wildlife Protection and Management" office. I stepped into a room devoid of decoration, save for the posters of the biology and identification of the 25 different bird species that nest and live on the atoll. I immediately wished I had brought a pen to write down all the Gilbertese words for all the birds I've been scanning the horizon for since we left Honolulu. The woman behind the counter came up and asked us if we had any questions, and we began to talk. She knew about the SSV Robert C. Seamans from previous trips SEA has taken to Kiritimati, and she knows that students onboard are often studying birds on SEA trips.

"We are interested in birds, too, because historically, Polynesian navigators used them for navigation," she tells me. " The greater frigatebird, for example, is always found near land. This is because they are lazy, and like to wait around for other birds to come home, and then they steal food from the birds that are returning. Polynesian navigators who saw frigatebirds in the sky would follow them because they would always lead their boats to land."

On the journey home over the next ten days, I'll be madly trying to input and analyze data to see if any of the trends in bird distribution Annie and I hoped to see are real. But while I'm doing that, I won't forget to scan the horizon from time to time, looking for those frigatebirds that are going to be leading the Seamans back to Hawaii.

-Ana Miller-ter Kuile

From Palmyra to Christmas Island

2011-05-27T07:12:00.000-07:00

A booby escort from Palmyra

We left Palmyra on a glorious sunny day-sailing through the deep cut of the Palmyra channel with an escort of boobies, and a few mantas. We're carrying a new passenger, Dr. Joe Bonaventura, from Duke Marine Lab, a professor who served as one of my mentors, along with Dr. Mike's who brings aboard boundless energy, and a unique view of marine biology. Joe, and the "first blood" team attempted at Palmyra to get one of the first oxygen dissociation curves of reef fish in warm waters so that we could examine if, and how these fish bind oxygen more tightly in their warm, lagoon waters.

A bit of play

For all of the sailors on this ship, Palmyra and Kingman lived up to expectations, and gave us more- a week of adventure, research and sheer spectacular beauty. I love Palmyra for its mystical qualities, the gorgeous emerald colors you only see only in the tropical Pacific, lush greens and smell of the earthy Island, the spectacular North beach where cone shells, and blacktip shark pups abound in the shallows, and the super facilities that the PARC consortium and TNC have created to allow scientists to better understand the structure of undisturbed coral ecosystems. Our students had fantastic access to unrivaled undergraduate research projects on coral reefs, snails and birds, manta ecology, and shipwrecks. We adventured throughout the protected atolls with zodiacs and our own sailing dory called Gene, and had a fantastic time.

We moved on for two days at Kingman Reef- always the highlight for me of this trip. Here one feels as remote as you can in the Pacific realm, an ominous V-shaped reef greets you- waves breaking over coral shelled spits you can barely see, a place with a powerful yet mysterious quality. Beneath the sea, there is a remarkable vibrance of colors with clams, corals, fish. My favorite here was the abundance of sharks. As if carrying a tuna attractant, every time I got in- I saw grey reef sharks, white tips or black tips. A few were a bit more than curious, potentially attracted to the shine of my weight belt- we safely negotiated our time underwater in the region with the sharks- and had a sense of their control over this spectacular reef.

Sailing through a squall

We've sailed for the past three days into the trades easterly gusts, to get to our next island stop in Kiribati -Christmas Island. It was tough at times beating into 6-8 ft seas- I took a photo from my port window on stormy wake up. Squalls at night reminded us of the challenges of taking sails down in powerful winds, students performed flawlessly, and the drenching rains cleaned the decks and felt refreshing to our often salt drenched skin and clothes. We had a first class play on board (Picture shows the cast) about "winkling", from the science watch - that helped us learn the chemistry of measuring oxygen in the water. We preformed a series of "stations", casting meter nets and Tucker trawls acquiring the final data for some transect projects looking at the oxygen minimum layer, and deep scattering layer organisms in relationship to the physical properties of the water column.

Christmas Island ahead!

Now we're about to enjoy three days in our final port of call before turning the ship North to sail home to Honolulu.

-Barb

Christmas (Kiritimati?!) Eve

2011-05-26T09:00:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone!

This is Randy again. I got a note from Dr. Block last night letting me know they're expecting to get into Christmas Island today. I'll keep updating the map and blogs this weekend - but I wanted to let you all know that all is well.

Best wishes and enjoy the holiday weekend!

(I'll leave the cool manta story up below here though!)

The Adventures of Team Manta

2011-05-24T14:00:00.000-07:00

"I'm going to swim underneath Manta rays and photograph them."

A manta ray, seen from below

When Laura Cummings presented her project to the Stanford @ SEA class during the shore component, I think everyone felt she was a little delusional. "It's not the easiest thing to swim under a 14 foot Manta in a deep channel," warned professor Barbara Block, "You might not want to base an entire project on your ability to do something so difficult." Laura was unphased, and we would all soon find out why.

I offered to help Laura with her project because I was intrigued by 1) the confidence behind her audacious claim and 2) the obsession this girl has with sharks and mantas. Laura often came to class sporting manta ray earrings and toting a laptop adorned by a large vinyl whale shark. I was far from convinced that she would be able to photograph the underside of one giant manta (much less enough of them to draw comparisons for her research), and I didn't necessarily share her enthusiasm for rays at the time. But I did admire her passion. One can't help but admire such conviction. In retrospect, I'm sure glad that this crazy project idea did draw my interest, because it led to some amazing moments in the channel of Palmyra that I will not soon forget.

-Nick

Laura's side of the story:

I would first like to preface this story by saying that I am and have always been a little bit of a fish nerd. As a child I traded good grades for trips to Sea World and constantly practiced my dolphin moves at home in the pool until I was sure I was becoming a fish myself (likely the impetus behind joining the swim team later in life). But while most little girls may favor the bright fish of the tropics, I always held a soft place in my heart for sharks and rays. By far my favorite exhibit at Sea World was the touch tank with stingrays, where I could sit for hours and excitedly inform anyone within earshot about their mucus coated skin (snot, cool!) or the optimal way to get them to approach you (always remain calm).

So a few years later when I heard about the existence of giant swimming rays, I knew I had found the love of my life. With wingspans over 7 meters and incredibly curious and peaceful personalities, manta rays are the most beautiful and dynamic creatures of the sea (in my unbiased opinion, of course). In planning for this trip, I knew I had to seize the incredible opportunity to better understand their relatively unknown life history. While some doubted the possibility of capturing individual mantas on film to get an idea for population size, my heart told me otherwise. I had perseverance and a love for mantas on my side, and there was no way I was going to give up.

The Adventures of Team Manta

The day we arrived at Palmyra atoll, excitement abounded on the Robert Seamans. Those with island-based projects checked through their equipment for the umpteenth time, preparing themselves for the unknown wonders soon to be discovered. After lunch, Team Manta gathered and went over the strategy for the mission before loading up into the rescue boat-turned-science vessel and heading out into the channel. Skepticism was still on the minds of all but the mission leader Laura. As soon as we entered the channel, the first manta appeared. Laura was immediately in the water, and with adrenaline pumping she swiftly approached her idol, filming from above, before diving down to capture the underside, just as she said she would. From that point on, all doubt was thrown out the window and over the following four days, Team Manta went on to photograph over 30 mantas, planting satellite tags on 2 of them!

However, the success of the missions cannot be attributed solely to the data brought back to the shore. By far the proudest moments came from the seamless use of teamwork, honed through the course of our time on Palmyra. With Austin at the helm and Barb spotting with her magic "manta glasses", students trolling from the side of the boat could be expertly guided to a manta, at which point a complex water ballet ensued involving Julie as manta herder, Laura as photographer, and Nick on shark watch and back-up camera. Even the most accomplished of sports teams would have been impressed by our synchronization.

By the end of our days at Palmyra we had sighted over 70 mantas, including a feeding aggregation of over 25 at once (Unfortunately no photographs of this experience were captured, as all in the water were a little too stunned to function) and an extended play session with one curious manta who was especially interested in what we were doing.

As we write this blog, the ship has returned to its swaying momentum on its way for Christmas Island. Although our manta time at Palmyra is over for this trip, the memories of seeing and swimming so closely by such magnificent creatures remain fresh as ever in our minds. I think I speak for the entire team when saying cannot wait to return someday to finish what we started.

-Laura "Manta Lady" Cummings and Nick "Converted Manta Devotee" Mendoza

Ps. I would also like to make a quick shout out to Mary, Phil, and Austin for their expert driving; Julie, Julia, Sarah, Caleb, Rick, and Nick for their invaluable assistance in the field; and of course Barb Block for sticking with me throughout the project even when she thought it may be an impossible task. You guys rock!

Two Days on Kingman Reef

2011-05-22T10:44:00.000-07:00

This teak-hulled ship washed up on Kingman in 2007.

Greetings again from Palmyra Atoll, to which we have returned after a very successful two-day trip to Kingman Reef! When I tried to imagine Kingman - one of the remotest bits of land in the world - before visiting, I pictured a single wave breaking in the middle of the ocean. After 36 hours anchored in the middle of the reef, I decided that my analysis was pretty correct. A couple of grains of sand form island strips (one of which we discovered and named Thursday!) to break up the horizon, but other than that, it's all waves and sky. The real magic happened underwater, as vista after vista of corals, reef fish and beds of hundreds of giant clams spread out before our eyes.

Giant Tridacna clams on the sea floor

We spent Thursday and Friday snorkeling around the pristine corals and clam gardens on Kingman, checking out colorful fish and locking gazes with curious grey reef sharks. A couple of us also studied the damaged reef around a teak-hulled shipwreck that washed up on Kingman in 2007. The wreck has spawned the growth of a 'black reef,' an area of reduced coral growth and cyanobacterial takeover, which looked like a pool that hadn't been chlorinated in months. In addition to cyanobacteria and metal debris from the wreck, however, there were still many beautiful corals, and hundreds of colorful wrasses, parrotfish, unicornfish and butterflyfish, as well as clownfish guarding their anemone homes (think Finding Nemo). I was reluctant to sail away from the reef last night - Kingman has a mysterious quality, at once familiar and completely other-worldly. Breakers washing over submerged corals are reminiscent of waves crashing along the California coast, but the deserted land seems somehow like a last, lost bit of earth, saved from all outside touches except for our very lucky eyes.

We have returned to Palmyra for three more days, to finish our reef-based research projects, where we have been greeted by a series of insta-showers: bursts of rain and squally weather intermittent with sunshine. The weather won't stop our missions, though (most of which are in the water anyway!).

We'll be sending out boats to study coral color and diseases, the shipwreck on Palmyra, manta ray ecology, parasitism in corals, and hopefully some recreational snorkeling and island exploration as well. We all feel incredibly lucky to have this opportunity to visit two beautiful, remote Pacific islands, places that most of us would probably never be able to see otherwise.

We were fortunate to acquire the temporary company of Amanda Meyer, the US Fish and Wildlife Service agent in charge of Palmyra and Kingman, on our trip north to Kingman. She has been a fun addition and a wealth of knowledge about the islands and their coral and fish communities. We've also taken on Joe Bonventura, a professor at Duke and Barb Block's Ph.D. advisor, as company for the rest of our trip. We have appreciated a little new blood to shake up the ship, as well as the chance to talk with Joe about his research in fish respirometry, and we look forward to his continued company. Next, we sail on to Christmas Island! But first, a few more days of science and relaxation in this tropical, coconut-and-azure paradise.

-Laura Lilly

All Well at Kingman Reef

2011-05-20T10:07:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone!

This is a note from Randy Kochevar - I am the guy who posts the blogs and updates the locations on the map. This is just to let everyone know that all is well on board the Seamans. It sounds like it has been very busy since their initial arrival at Palmyra, and their subsequent transit to Kingman Reef. I've been getting regular updates from the ship - but haven't received any new blogs. I will be checking my email regularly, including over the weekend, and will post new information as soon as it arrives.

Best wishes,

-Randy

Dr. Randy Kochevar
Science Communications Officer
Hopkins Marine Station, Stanford University

Kingslands on Kingman Reef

2011-05-19T07:58:00.000-07:00

On his thirtieth birthday, in a hospital bed in snowy New England, my father resolved to build a sailboat. He was recovering from a gruesome skiing accident, imagining palm trees and warm water in the South Pacific. Lofting, plating, and welding commenced before my parents even met. How blessed I am that fifty-feet long, fourteen-feet wide steel sailboats designed for serious world cruising do not grow in the backyards of most children. When I was a little girl, my dad would lift me up against the hollow hull of our nameless “big boat” to the spot of my future bunk on the port side of the forward cabin at the bow.

Yet faraway islands soon became a dream deferred not only to balance a fierce commitment to family and daughters’ educations, but also to develop the finest piece of floating sculpture my father’s hands could shape. Zero square corners. Marble galley countertops. A cedar closet. Bullet-proof pilothouse windows for sunbeams to stream through at anchorage. Rounded corner by rounded corner the boat progressed through my childhood until three decades later we launched Restless in Scituate Harbor, Massachusetts to the colored kazoos of more than five hundred people.

I knew Stanford @ SEA would prepare me to finally circumnavigate with my father after his impending retirement. But on his sixty-fourth birthday, the second day of the SEA shore component, he was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Our lives are terminal upon birth, I console myself, as I am uplifted by my dad’s dogged determination to fight far beyond his prognosis.

And so I sailed to the North Pacific, bringing with me part of him. Halyards clanging in the night, skipjack tunas hauled onto the quarterdeck, arching palm trees on Palmyra, the complexities of the Seamans’ engine underworld— all make me smile thinking of him.

Today, a shipmate poked me at 6:20 AM for a tranquil but tense morning watch. Not many of us were awake as Captain Phil and third mate Austin Becker navigated meticulously into the Kingman Reef lagoon— an isolated atoll of submerged corals spread between just ten minutes of longitude and four minutes of latitude on an inaccurate map unfurled across the chart table. We entered in more than 800 feet of depth where the charts read 42. I felt an unsettling sense of eeriness in a place that more sharks have seen than humans— an electrifying dose of the world’s vast unknowns, as mysterious as a cancer prognosis.

On right, the newly discovered Kingsland Island on Kingman Reef

We passed by a low-lying island Captain Phil discovered on the 2007 Stanford @ SEA cruise, a tiny strip of white sand and brown boobies wedged between grey cumulus clouds and Kingman’s sapphire lagoon. I scanned my telephoto lens to the waves breaking on the left. Something within their frosty horizontal linearity seemed amiss— a tan speck I knew the charts said did not exist. The islet appeared larger and larger as we approached, and voila!—we named it Kingsland Island in honor of my father. Approximately 06°23.1’N x 162°22.5’W. It may not have palm trees, Daddy, but it’s enough for me to keep the dream alive of sailing Restless myself to the South Pacific.

-Haley Smith Kingsland

Earth Systems master’s candidate

Arrival at Palmyra!

2011-05-17T14:45:00.000-07:00

We arrived Palmyra on schedule this morning at 0900. We doused sail and motored through the narrow cut in the reef to enter the atoll's western lagoon. After a few morning squalls the afternoon has brought back blue skies, cumulus clouds and a beautiful breeze blowing across the decks. We have reduced to half watches and everyone is either too busy, too excited, or too tired (or all of the above) to write today's blog. We have three boats exploring the lagoon and the western terrace filled with students beyond excitement to begin their research projects. Those neither on the boat missions or on watch are enjoying a walk on shore that no doubt will end at the swimming hole. With the azure water and multi-colored reefs beckoning it may be a few days before anyone is ready dry off long enough to sit at a computer and blog!

-Philip Sacks
Captain, SSV ROBERT C. SEAMANS

Final Approach to Palmyra

2011-05-16T12:57:00.000-07:00

We are on the last day of our "first leg" of out voyage, the sail from Hawaii to Palmyra. Today was a super busy day on board the ship where our scientific focus has been on the deep scattering layer (DSL) and the oxygen minimum Layer (OML). We're exploring the relationship between the DSL and OML, the biophysical characteristics, the biodiversity and how when this region shoals it impacts the characteristics of the water column.

Our budding oceanographers have cast at least 20 nets ranging from the surface to 600 meters down. Neuston, Tucker, and Meter nets go over the side, and when they come up we're examining the contents, getting the biomass, measuring the biodiversity and storing animals in vials, taking DNA samples, examining animals under microscopes and counting a lot of species. We've counted copepods, angler fish, myctophids, and gulper eels. Jellies, shrimps, ostracods and squid, amphipods, salps, halobates and octopi.

Our arrival in Palmyra is scheduled for tomorrow at 9am. This will mark a transition to our Line Islands phase- where student projects will be intertwined with the ecology of these very unique coral atolls. Its been a super first leg, great sailing, wonderful vistas, remarkable energy and real teamwork. Our class has really come together out here- and with beautiful weather its been an easy first leg!

-Dr. Barbara Block

C is for Charming

2011-05-15T09:01:00.000-07:00

AHOOOOY! This is Kevin Chow, on deck. Today’ I’ll be writing a bit about what it’s like to be part of a crew – to work as a team, to forge new friendships, and to adapt to the culture of the ship – which, for me, has been the most challenging, yet rewarding aspect of the trip so far.

Onboard the Seamans, we use a three-watch system (A, B, and C) to divide the day and its duties into manageable parts. I am a member of C Watch, which also includes Laura Nelson (Assistant Scientist), Austin Becker (3rd Mate), Sverre LeRoy (TA), Lauren Kubiak, Ana Miller-ter Kuile , Haley Kingsland, Nick Mendoza, Calah Hanson, and Sabina Perkins. Although we have only been a team for little more than a week, working and eating with these charming, calm, collected (and remarkably good-looking) individuals day in and day out has really brought us close together into a family/team/elite squadron.

Members of C Watch stand ready for action

Adhering to the relentless schedule of the ship can certainly be a struggle. Time, on the Seamans, seems to melt away – it is harder and harder for me to separate when one day starts and another begins. The mantra of SITUATIONAL AWARENESS dictates that we remain constantly vigilant of fire, men or women overboard, and Kraken attacks. But, I have found that ship life is all about taking the bad with the good. For instance, today for dawn watch we had to wake up at 0300 and scrub the heads and soles (toilets and floors) after breakfast, but oh my gosh just look at this morning’s sunrise!

I think one time I heard someone say something like “the price of enjoying the sublime is a voyage into the banal…” I guess I agree with that.

When we gather with the entire class each afternoon, the culture of the ship’s company as a whole is on display. We share stories, act, recite poems, laugh, reflect, dance, and feign cardiac arrest. Afterwards, there are wonderfully prepared snacks to enjoy together before the rhythm of the ship resumes (the science must go on!). There are lines to sweat, boat checks to perform, nets to cast, samples to process. The ebb and flow of ship life, like the ocean itself, is alive with opportunities to learn from and to teach each other.

-K. Chow

Over and out.

Today, at 15:49 ZT, we also launched 10 messages in bottles from a location of 9° 19.8’ N x 161° 33.9’ W for a group of students from Capt. Derek Esibill’s seventh and eighth grade classes in Kailua, Ohau.

Of Squid and Science...

2011-05-14T07:01:00.000-07:00

In addition to poems (sometimes amazing poems written by shipmates like Tara), at ship's meeting, we share reports from the different areas of the boat - the engine room, science lab, and navigation room. Today's most exciting report came from the science crew, because Josh Coronado led our watch in a successful squid jig. Josh caught two squid and I caught one, who I immediately named Princess (Princess is quite the aggressor as it turns out - just a few hours ago, she bit a huge chunk out of another squid's mantle). These squid led our dawn watch to research and learn about photophores for our science report, because these photophores are the source of bioluminescence in the squid. Not much compares to reading about photophores and bioluminescence in a textbook, the physiological and biochemical mechanisms, and then seeing the grand result in our live squid.
Everyday we look forward to these exciting applications of textbook science and everyday we look no further than the Seamans.

-Julie Koenig

Josh Coronado and Julie Koenig observing squid

Adventure Song

2011-05-14T06:56:00.000-07:00

Wow. This day marks the end of our first week at SEA. It has been a wondrous mix of rigorous
science and ship handling, as well as the breathtaking beauty and adventure of sails against
stars and ocean sunsets. To address the latter, we have decided to read a poem before each of
our daily ship's meetings. I offer one now, to share a bit of the spirit we are feeling on board
the Seamans.

Adventure Song

And now my feet shall pass away
Ere killdeer call the close of day
My good friend, tis my back you see
I'll come not home to ease with thee
Though sun be dappled on the road
And barley in the fields be sowed
And horses lay in straw so sweet
Still these things can't stop my feet
Though love be warm in friends so dear
Whose laughter still my mind can hear
Though milk and honey wait for tea
I cannot pause to stay with thee

The world ahead, it calls me there

Wondrous adventure if only I dare
The clouds and stars of another sky
Shall be my company by and by
My feet go on to choose a track
Not hindered by my heavy pack
They jump ahead like fleeting hare
So glad this land is wide and fair
Alone at last I'll find my way
Where night unfolds to show the day
The stars give way to morning sighs
In fields of mist and soft sunrise
Where rocky cliffs look over sea
The gulls careen and call to me
I'll ride the waves and follow the wind
And sit with creatures gilled and finned

My wanders through won't end this soon
For calm night seas can mirror the moon
There in the glass beneath our prow
I see a lady with furrowed brow
Millions of stars lace in her hair
She laughs and I see a challenge there
She watches whether I turn back
Or forge ahead to face the black
Unknown except for those who heed
The wanderlust and aching need
Of souls that know ahead there are
Blue mountains rearing high and far
Waterfalls of silver steel
Over cliffs where great birds wheel`
Or landscapes made of frozen ice
Strange with cold and wind's device
These souls know ahead must lie
The wine dark end to the evening sky

So I continue on ahead
Away from candle, home, and bed
The darkness folds as I go on
Lovely as the earth I walk upon
I'll stride ahead for years or days
Round countless corners, hills, and ways
And then one morning I may see
Beyond these wilds and into me
When there at last myself I've found
I'll then decide to turn around
And these same feet shall carry me
Across those hills and back to thee

-Tara Smithee
SEA Earth Systems masters student

Halfway to Palmyra

2011-05-13T11:24:00.000-07:00

Greetings from the central Pacific, where the Seamans has passed our halfway point to Palmyra, and the Southern Cross rises higher each night! The past 24 hours have been filled with clouds and a strong breeze, but the lack of blue sky hasn't dampened the boat's bright enthusiasm. To mark our first week in, we declared today 'Fluorescent Friday,' meaning that everyone showed up for their watch periods in highlighter green, pink and yellow clothing, complete with vibrant sunglasses and orange socks. I'm amazed we all had a similar inclination to stuff bright clothing into our duffles before the trip!

Examining the contents of a net trawl

Yesterday we deployed two Tucker Trawls, nets that are designed to open at specific depths in order to collect a sample of the biology at those depths, as part of our scientific mission is to track the biodiversity of the region we sail over. When we brought the Tucker Trawls back on board, we found lots of exciting deep-sea organisms! Some of the notable finds were a juvenile snipe eel, red shrimp, baby squid and a juvenile hatchetfish. The biology continued this morning with a sighting of pilot whales splashing in and out of the waves around our stern. We're still working on the mahi mahi catch - hopefully we'll land some fresh fish soon!

A Pacific blackdragon brought up from the depths

Julia marks the sun's position with a sextant

We are using the navigational techniques we learned at Hopkins, combined with authentic brass sextants, to mark the sun's position above the horizon in order to calculate our ship's latitude and longitude. We are beginning to feel like true sailors and are finally getting our "sea legs" as we learn the sails and lines of the boat. Time passes quickly, woven seamlessly into the pattern of the ship's watch schedule, daily afternoon classes, and snatches of sleep between moments of excitement. We can't wait to see what comes next!

-Laura Lilly

Sarah and Andrew present on deep-sea net creatures

Thoughts from a Stormy Night at Sea

2011-05-13T10:00:00.000-07:00

I was at the helm a few nights ago. It was two in the morning and it was my first working night on the boat. Rain beat down on us from the southeast while lightning lit up the otherwise pitch-black night sky. The boat was
rocking hard as we made our way across the sea and falling overboard become a very real reality.

It was silent, except for the winds, as more than thirty people slept below the deck. And yet, I was at peace. There I was, staring out into the ocean steering a massive ship in those comparatively intense conditions in the middle of the night and reflected on who and where I am.

I'M ON A BOAT.

- Josh Coronado

Life on the Seamans: A Snapshot in Time

2011-05-12T10:54:00.000-07:00

The rotating watch schedule ensures that people are always at hand to keep the ship running smoothly, and the decks are seldom not teeming with activity. The following photos, all taken today between the hours of 10 and 11 AM-10 and 11 hundred hours in nautical speak-illustrate a snippet of this activity: a snapshot of life aboard one of the greatest research vessels to ever grace the waters of the Pacific.

-Lauren Kubiak

In preparation for our daily instrument deployment,
A Watch Team hauls the main sheet.

Adrian Archambault takes a sight with the sextant to determine our location. (Don't worry, we also have GPS on board).

The CTD instrument, deployed by student Laura Cummings
and scientist Annie Scofield, collects water from different
levels in the water column to determine how
salinity, oxygen, and temperature change with depth.

The oceanographic instruments on-and deployed from-the ship
return a wealth of oceanic data. In the onboard lab,
student Tara Smithee examines bottom (left) and current profiles.

Creature Encounters

2011-05-12T08:20:00.000-07:00

Hello! Today is our fourth day on the ship and we're already well on our way to becoming excellent scientists and seamen. This morning, as we were processing our plankton tows, we were overcome with inspiration from the creatures we were finding. We caught everything from deep sea anglerfish to baby puffer fish-and, of course, a million copepods! As part of the daily ship's meeting, the dawn watch answers a question and presents the findings to the awaiting shipmates.

Caleb, Laura and Bri introduce their classmates
to the heteropod

Today we presented on a magical creature: the heteropod! A member of the snail class, heteropods make their home in the open ocean. These snails are a little different from your garden variety; their shell is reduced and their foot has evolved into an undulating fin, allowing them to thrive in the deep, blue sea.

As poetry has been a theme of our ship's meetings, we thought we would share a poem we wrote, inspired by this fantastic snail.

Song of the Heteropod

I was swimming in the ocean blue
enjoying a midnight snack
When I was captured by the Seaman's crew in a Neuston net attack

I was hauled upon the salty deck
and hurled into the tank
There the man of war had me a nervous wreck, and from his stinging grasp I shrank

"What could it be?" I heard the mammals ask "This creature is quite odd."
Then under the microscope light I did bask 'til they exclaimed, "It's a beautiful heteropod!"

Over and out!
-Bri, Caleb, and Laura C.
A Watch

First Watch

2011-05-11T11:51:00.000-07:00

After a safe departure from Honolulu Harbor, masterfully orchestrated by Captain Phil, the Seamans is 24-hours underway on its southerly course. The enthusiasm of all on board has endured through a first day that was dizzying both in terms of information volume and the steady rocking of the ship, which generated more than a few green faces and lost lunches.

Despite the intensity of the first day, I am overcome by a deep feeling of serenity after my first dawn watch (0300-0700), a feeling that I have never been more at home. Manning the ship's helm last night on a course that seemed to be marked by the overhead glow of the Milky Way is a memory I will treasure. The highlight of my first morning, though, had to be the hour I spent on bow watch leaning into the warm breeze and gazing down at the twinkling sea of bioluminescence swirling vibrantly from the ship's wake.

Our first sunrise brings the promise of many more memories like these and the opportunity to carry out some exciting science in the days to come. Hopefully, somewhere along the way, we'll all find our sea-legs as well.

-Nicolas E. Mendoza
Class of 2012

Setting off!

2011-05-08T17:42:00.000-07:00

Spirits run high as the students prepare to depart.

After weeks of study and tremendous anticipation, we have cast off our bowline and left our berth at Pier 36 at Honolulu. We've had an interesting few days, situated next to the longline fleet of Hawaii for the past few days, where fishers have been preparing to head back out to catch yellowfin, bigeye tuna and swordfish. We've loaded tons of provisions, equipment and fuel on to the ship, prepared the laboratory, run some protocols for research and now for the first time we're free from land.

We are moving out of Honolulu harbor on a day with fitful rain and only a small bit of sunshine. Seas are calm here at the dock and the winds are light to moderate.

Student Sabina Perkins takes the wheel to motor out.

In keeping with tradition, a student - Sabina Perkins - has taken the helm and carefully helped us under Phil's command to motor off the dock in a tight turning basin filled with fishing boats. We're now enjoying the vistas of Honolulu and soon we'll be in open waters. Fair winds, hopefully calm seas, and great research and adventure are ahead. 38 aboard, with the enthusiasm as high as I have seen it in this class.

-Barbara Block

The Journey Begins!

2011-05-05T16:53:00.000-07:00

Thumbs up for a safe, fun trip!

Welcome to our fifth Stanford@SEA trip- about to take off from Honolulu, HI and bound for the Line Islands. Once again we've had an enriching shore component for Stanford@SEA. Five weeks 24 Stanford undergrads and grads working together preparing with our faculty (Drs. Barbara Block, Rob Dunbar, Amy Suida and Mary Malloy) along with Captain Phil Sacks for 5 weeks at sea. We had oceanography, maritime studies which features Mary's historical perspective and literature, Barb's marine conservation and Phil's nautical science.

The 2011 Stanford@SEA class

A highlight this year were five special conservation seminars in combination withHopkins Marine Station's seminar series that brought speakers like Sylvia Earle (pictured here with our class) to Hopkins Marine Station.

We've sent more equipment than ever before and we've been preparing for weeks for a voyage now days away. I am dreaming of clear blue Pacific waters, fair breezes and the enthusiasm of my shipmates that will transform our classroom days into a voyage of discovery. Soon we will sail away from the harbor and catch the trade winds in our sails. As Mark Twain said we will explore, dream and discover.

Dr. Barbara Block

Preparations Begin for 2011 Voyage!

2010-11-12T09:32:00.000-08:00

The sailing route is being finalized and applications for the 2011 Stanford At Sea voyage are available here.

There will be an informational session next Wednesday, November 17 from 6:30-8:00 pm in Y2E2 room 299.

We'll be updating the website and the blog as the details fall into place, so keep checking back!

Thoughts at the Journey's End

2009-06-12T09:19:00.000-07:00

The Stanford At Sea 2009 Class Returns

All voyages come to an end, and we have reached our final destination - Honolulu. 38 Students and faculty, crew and Captain have sailed over 3600 nm together. It has been a successful trip, and we’re deeply touched by the strong bonds of our shipboard community and the memories of this voyage across an expansive Pacific oceanography and cultural community. We faculty have a deep admiration for our students, who have mastered sailing and navigation of this tall ship through the strong easterly trade winds which brought all of us back to safe harbor here in Honolulu. We sailed in under the guidance of Captain Phil, with Ethan Estes at the helm and all hands on deck to throw our bow and stern lines ashore.

The end of a passage is always a challenging time emotionally. There are conflicting feelings of wanting to be ashore again-to savor our terrestrial world; but also the recognition that our remarkable time together, discovering a new world for many as shipmates on this incredible sailing vessel has finally come to a close. I know for sure that each one of us who made the passage will think deeply about our time on the RCS, reflecting on our voyage of discovery, the explorations of new places, and the growth one garners from the physical, emotional and intellectual challenges of being at sea for five weeks on a tall ship. I have been thinking about how much of our time is spent outdoors in this program- and how little we experience the natural world 24/7 at home. Some students have decided to remain on board during the “Turn Around” period when the ship is made ready for the next sail from Honolulu to San Francisco. We look forward to seeing the ship again in Monterey, Ca. in the summer.

I recall as a student on Westward (w-49) the challenges at this juncture- the excitement of wanting to tell the story to others- but the difficulty of leaving a ship you’ve called home over a remarkable period of discovery. We gathered the class, and they all received their equator crossing “certificates” along with a “graduation pin” from SEA- and we took moment in this our last class gathering to open an envelope signed and sealed on the first day of class. In the envelope we had put index cards with our thoughts from day one when each one of us wrote about what we hoped to gain from the voyage. I will share below a few of these words from our students, written on day one within the first hour of meeting. It is uncanny how in March, many of us wrote down our hopes and dreams for this particular voyage - and sure enough, I think this particular cruise track truly delivered beyond expectations:

“ I’m here to understand the ocean first-hand, to feel what it is like to move a ship with only human effort and the wind, and to make myself a better, more complete person in doing so.”

“ An unparalleled sense of community. A love of the ocean and its beauty. Awesome memories: feeling of accomplishment for all we’ve done! More knowledge than I could have gained in a classroom in years. An appreciation of sleep and life’s other small blessings”

“I want to swim with a shark, and stay up on watch under the stars. I have wished and dreamed and hoped to do this all my life”

“Appreciate Earth and Oceans. Make Lasting Friendships. Know what I’m going to do with my life!

“Safe Passage, Comraderie, Discovery”

For the students and faculty of S-223, we’re home now and all of us will move on- but few of us will forget what we’ve accomplished together. Passages through expansive portions of the Pacific Ocean across two Hemispheres. A voyage through remarkable places in Polynesia where a moving and deep cultural history was shared with us by experts from Tahiti, to the Tuamotas, the Marquesas and Hawaii. It has been a super trip, and a wonderful group of students. We look forward to seeing everyone on campus, where the research, stories and memories from this voyage will be shared. Aloha and Mahalo to all.

- Dr. Barbara Block

Sailing Past Molokai

2009-06-11T13:58:00.000-07:00

The Seamans sails past the Cliffs of Molokai

We’ve been sailing along the Hawaiian Islands, finishing the science and oceanographic portion of the trip. The students have presented all of their final papers and the symposium focused on our science was outstanding. Talks ranged from Jessica and Kate’s research focusing on the Licor Carbon measurements taken across the equatorial Pacific and the Revelle buffering capacity of the ocean, to biological talks by Nik, Alex and Joe focused on the oxygen minimum zone and its affect on the biological community we sampled. We are having beautiful weather- and have taken a few swim calls in spectacular Hawaiian locales.. We are sailing along the final portion of our trip- the Cliffs of Molokai. We set sail tonight for Honolulu and should be in port and at the dock by 0900.

-Dr. Barbara Block

LAND HO!

2009-06-08T09:23:00.000-07:00

As the Seamans approaches Hawaii, we can see steam plumes where hot lava is flowing into the ocean

Sunset on the Ocean Passage

2009-06-07T13:06:00.000-07:00

Stanford At Sea student Jessica Hinojosa uses a sextant to estimate the ship's latitude

We are nearing the end of our 15 day journey from the Marquesas to Hawaii. Strong trade winds have been in our favor for the past few days, blowing 20-25 knots. The sun has been shining, and dry air has been a welcome change from the moist tropics. We've pretty much eliminated the “mung” from our clothes and the ship, which accumulates from the wetter tropical portion of our trip. We’re sailing at high speeds of up to 9 and even 10 knots, with 6h of science stations daily. We’ve been making about 110-120 nm a day.

We are within a 100 nm of reaching the Big Island of Hawaii- where potentially tomorrow we will be close enough to witness lava flowing into the sea, producing clouds of steam - giving us a visual record for this tectonic hot spot. We’re not exactly sure where the lava is going into the sea, but hope to pinpoint the volcano flow by the afternoon. It has been a long journey home to the US- we’ve passed the 3100 nm mark in our ship’s log -- a trip full of adventure, exotic natural beauty, and spectacular sailing. We’ve used the motor very little in comparison to past trips north; we came on this leg from the Marquesas a lot further to the east than our prior trips up from Palmyra. We have had the wind pushing us north with steady breezes on the beam the entire way.

We are conducting our last biological collections today- a deep Tucker trawl- probing the depths to examine the biodiversity of the Deep Scattering Layer. This station is a comparison to our low oxygen stations earlier on the leg. We will be finishing our work in the North Equatorial Current by tomorrow. We’re hydrocasting now to 1000m and putting the final touches on the oceanographic section we’ve created from sailing and sampling from about 15 S to 19N. Students are pulling together their individual projects to start the process of presenting their results in formal talks and writing up the final project papers due on Friday.

We plan to sail along the Kona coast of the Big Island on Tuesday- a remarkable coast with epic history of encounters. I could not help but wonder today how the Polynesians could sail and paddle their early vessels through the blustery conditions of the ITCZ. I understand better now how stars such as Arcturus or Vega made navigating a bit easier- but wonder what it took to make such arduous journeys. The oral history of Polynesians included a knowledge of stars that far exceeds our own- but students on this trip have made almost all their fixes home with either star or sun site positions. A contest for the student who can put the last fix on the map approaching Hawaii with the highest accuracy drew a lot of activity. And as always we’re trying to guess what time we’ll hear the shout “Land Ho!”

We’re coming in almost under full sail to Hawaii- into the areas where Captain Cook took his ships- and plan to make a stops in the vicinity of Kealekekua Bay, where Cook miscalculated returning and lost his life. This bay, with its deep waters and lush mountain views, is also an area where blue marlin spawn- where yellowfin, bigeye and albacore tunas also call home, and where tourists come to snorkel and view the historical sites of Hawaii. Should be a grand sail over the next two days.

-Dr. Barbara Block

Settling Seas in the Journey's Final Week

2009-06-06T07:43:00.000-07:00

Ship’s meeting just ended, and it marked the finale of our weekly Friday afternoon marine conservation talks from Barb and Boris. The weather cooperated for another precious day of class outside on the quarter deck – blue skies, fair-weather cumulus, and northeasterly trades seem too good to be true at times. Our greater appreciation of the beautiful weather follows our almost weeklong squally journey through the ITCZ (I think everyone onboard would agree that we overstayed our welcome). Anyway, we have about two hours until first sitting for dinner, and our two ‘COWs’ (Chief of the Week) have left us with plenty to think about. As Barb pointed out a few days ago, the students of Stanford@SEA 2009 are experiencing a very different ocean than she did on her voyage on the Westward. Despite passing through some highly productive waters, our lack of shark, turtle or marine mammal sightings throughout the cruise track is a good indication of how depleted our oceans have become in terms of biodiversity and top predators.

However, as I’m sure everyone at home can imagine, it is difficult to be a pessimist while sailing on a tall ship through the Central Pacific Ocean. So our marine conservation series ended on an appropriately optimistic note, with a nod towards the intimate experience and education we’ve had with the Pacific Ocean and how we can bring that home with us to increase awareness and even *gasp!* concern about the status of our finite and fragile marine resources.

The limited nature of these resources is even more apparent now as we approach Hawai’i and head into the more oligotrophic waters of the North Pacific Gyre. Thankfully there is still plenty to occupy us as we approach the home stretch. Our GPS continues to be concealed by a sign that says ‘Seek Guidance Elsewhere,’ so every morning and evening between Civil and Nautical Twilight, we are perfecting out celestial navigation skills through STAR FRENZYING!! During ‘Star Frenzy’ the quarter deck overflows with sextants and the air is filled with shouts of “Standby on Arcturus! Ready…and…MARK!” We have also moved into J.W.O./J.L.O. phase (junior watch officer/junior lab officer), so the 22 of us who thought a jib jigger was some sort of dance four weeks ago are now taking turns running the ship during our watches. Any offerings made to King Neptune would be greatly appreciated.

-Annie Scalmanini

Rough Seas in the ITCZ

2009-06-04T13:38:00.000-07:00

We’ve been sailing through the last of the inter tropical convergence zone (ITCZ), an area of atmospheric activity that has led to confused seas in squalls, some high wind gusts of 35 knots and heavy seas. The ITCZ has handed RCS some heavier weather-without question its been rough the last few days, cloudy and squally- some of the biggest swells of the trip. Cooler weather is a welcome relief after the heat of the tropics.

The students handle this weather with ease now – their capacity to carry on scientific station work- measuring and pouring fluids to do nitrates, phosphates and nutrient or microscopic observations, sailing the ship, creating delicious galley meals, and being up at all hours to keep the vessel going by watch, from galley to deck is remarkable. Boris and I served all day yesterday in the galley, and this reaffirmed my awareness that this job is the hardest by far on the trip. Imagine cooking three meals and three snacks in a single day in a hot galley in a rolling sea. It is not easy, and the students do this every day with the guidance of our Steward Anna. At this point, the students of Stanford@SEA (S223 in SEA terms) are primarily taking charge in all aspects of the shipboard function.

The final phase of the trip has begun when each student is a JWO, which means a Junior Watch Officer. Here they will be completely in charge- with the true watch officers standing close by. JWOs provide leadership on the watch, calling out the commands for changing sails or helm orders, and JWO will be the communications point person with science deck.

The Tucker trawl being prepared for deployment

We’ve been studying the oxygen minimum layer intensively here in this portion of the Pacific. Its shoaled up to 100m in the past few casts. Oxygen is very low below 100m - perhaps becoming a biogeographic boundary for larger vertebrates. We’re using the Tucker trawl with 3 nets to sample the mesopelagic world that lies in this low oxygen zone and we’re finding some remarkable squid, hatchet fish and other very beautiful midwater animals capable of handling the harsh environs.

A silvery hatchetfish and a variety of bright red crustaceans come up in a midwater trawl

Alex and Nick have projects that will utilize the data sets being generated by the daily tows and intensive processing. Kate Lowry’s been working up the station data from the CTD and corresponding with our shore base support from NOAA (Dr. Dave Foley) for an in situ comparison of chlorophyll from the CTD and satellite data. Students are busy analyzing data for their individual projects and final oral reports and papers which are due early next week. The ship is a bee hive of activity and everywhere you go you see students with computers either discussing data or writing up their work.

The log shows we’re past 2500 nm on this trip- and we’re about 600 nm from Southpoint, Hawaii. That’s a lot of sailing in the Pacific, with a few hundred more miles to go before we see the mountainous volcanoes of the big island.

-Dr. Barbara Block

Sampling the Deep on the Long Haul to Hawaii

2009-06-03T09:17:00.000-07:00

We're sailing and doing some motoring as we head north towards Hawaii. We have to average over 110 nm a day these days, with over 1000 nm ahead. We're doing 5-6 hours of station work, and the rest is travel time. Another large project has taken off- this time its Alex and Nik's OML project studying the remarkable shoaling of the oxygen minimal layer in this region of the inter tropical convergence zone (ITCZ), and examining the critters in the deep scattering layer. We're using a Tucker trawl which, when it works correctly, should tow a zooplankton-collecting net at a specific depth. We're pulling three nets and sending down messengers - small brass weights that slide down the line to open and close them - to sample the mesopelagic organisms at specific times and depths. We're pulling up lots of exciting fish, many of which have bioluminescent light organs and other adaptations specifically for life in the deep sea. Squalls are making things a bit blusterly at times and clouds have filled in as we course through the ITCZ.

-Dr. Barbara Block

Back in the Northern Hemisphere

2009-05-31T10:33:00.000-07:00

The pollywogs await their trial in King Neptune's Court

We successfully crossed the equator with traditional shipboard pomp and ceremony aboard the RCS. We had discussed the crossing in class back at Hopkins, but the reality of tropical breezes, a hot day, 15-20 knot winds and a ship full of traditions wowed the pollywogs (those who have not been across the equator).

King Neptune and his Court prepare for the crossing ceremony

The pollywogs were treated quite fairly by the experienced shellbacks, led by the Court of King Neptune (Rob Dunbar), Neptune’s wife (Boris Worm) and the Bayliff (our second mate Sully). After a speedy and unsuccessful legal trial for all 25 pollywogs (defended by the lawyers Barb and Liz), the crew, led by James, Mack, Anna and Erin, provided the traditional ceremonial crossing the line shipboard fun. All the pollywogs successfully made it across, solemnly promised to protect and conserve the oceans, and became shellbacks. Many aboard shaved their heads in traditional styles for first time crossings of the equator as final tributes to Neptune. Enthusiasm could not have been higher aboard the ship as we all enjoyed the day together.

We’re sailing in the Northern hemisphere now, the big dipper in front of us guiding us each night, the southern cross behind; with a fast breeze - speeds up to 8 knots - under starlit skies and a bright sliver of a moon. Once again- the rolling seas, the gorgeous weather, and the grace of a tall ship under a bright night sky has captured the imagination of another generation of sailors here in the Pacific at 0° latitude. I myself enjoy the solitude of a bow watch, where you stand alone scanning the horizon for ships or obstacles, but primarily you are vividly aware of your presence on this ship sailing within a huge sea, the sounds of the riggings and the beauty of the sails against the nighttime sky- an awesome place to be.

-Dr. Barbara Block

Crossing the Line

2009-05-28T09:00:00.000-07:00

Stanford At Sea student Kate Lowry

It’s 0900 and we are just a couple hours away from crossing the equator! According to our celestial fixes and dead reckoning, we are within 15 nautical miles of 0 degrees…the lateral center of the world! The ship is booming with excitement as we travel across the Equatorial Counter Current. So far we pollywogs (those who have never crossed the equator on a ship) have in good fun, been subject to the whims of Neptune. We’ve been left messages on our mirrors from King Neptune, labeled pollywogs, and offered cereal and milk for breakfast rather than fresh bagels and papaya. By lunch time, we will all celebrate together as shellbacks, the name for those who have crossed the equator!

Students prepare a CTD sampler on deck

It’s hard to believe we are already so far along in our journey. It’s bittersweet to leave the Southern Hemisphere. We are excited to really dig into our projects and eventually reach Honolulu, but sad to see our time south of the equator end. With more uninterrupted time at sea, it seems that everyone has acclimatized pretty well to ship life. The spirits on board seem higher than ever, and after some structured working time yesterday afternoon, everyone is well into their projects. Our knowledge of the ship increases each day, but we are now navigating without the GPS (using star and sun sites for positions) and have received high compliments from Captain Phil on our sail setting and line handling. With lots of data collection and new organisms in our net tows every day, it is an exciting time to be aboard the Robert C. Seamans!

-Kate Lowry

Last Day in the Southern Hemisphere

2009-05-27T15:24:00.000-07:00

Fair winds and fast sailing has brought the students, faculty and crew of S223 to within a day of crossing the equator. Seas are beautiful, the temperature has remained hot and muggy but the strong breezes have cooled the ship. Its almost picture perfect. Stations for science morning and evening are on going. Bird diversity is being monitored across the transect hourly, and the ship has been successful catching fish for science and the galley. The students are engaged in a variety of individual and ship-wide science projects ranging from examining squid and pteropod diversity along the transect, to collecting first-rate carbon data along the track- setting a baseline for future studies. We put an ARGO float over the side yesterday which will sample continuously to 1000m for the next five years.

Lectures during class by faculty provide a structured classroom setting during the afternoons and delicious snacks are served by the students in the galley both am and pm. The big news is the crossing of the line. At sea there is a long tradition of having a "Line Crossing Ceremony." Sailors who have not been across the line are called pollywogs and experienced veterans are Shellbacks. Of course King Neptune and his wife are sure to make an appearance and a certificate of crossing will be issued to all the pollywogs of S223.

-Dr. Barbara Block

Good Bye to the Marquesas

2009-05-26T11:10:00.000-07:00

We had a super port stop in Nuka Hiva, Marquesas- a place that is remarkable for the people, the beauty, the island culture and history. We enjoyed a spectacular hike to a waterfall, and along the way we saw historical sites, rock foundations, rich with history, marked with tikis, that echoed in a somewhat haunting way the loss of a society that once numbered hundreds of thousands of islanders. There are less than 3000 today.

We loaded the vessel with fresh produce from the island and traded fishing lures with the locals. We organized some tours to archeological sites and spent several days hiking, swimming, exploring and even fishing. The dogtooth team was ecstatic when on the third day a local Marquesan had the elusive fish mixed in with his yellowfin catch. I immediately asked for the
fish, and we're looking forward to dissecting it. To us it's almost like finding a dinosaur.

We fished again with this vessel in the early am the next day- and were able to document their fishing methodologies with students Joe Berg and Jered helping to pull fish in. It was awesome to be out on a local boat, with 6 other boats surrounding us, all working together to chum up fish; and then using traditional techniques - handlines - to catch the fish. There was a colorful Saturday market full of fish, produce, carvings and local artisan products that all members of the ship browsed through. We left Nuka Hiva full of new experiences and memories, chanting a local tune taught to us by Marquesans.

We are heading north now to the equator on the longest leg of the trip- 19 days and over 2100 sailing miles. This will be the leg that students truly sense the sea- under fair breezes sailing with all the lower sails up. On this leg, our students get to experience fully the joy of being on a tall ship- with sails up, stars overhead used for celestial navigation, and 4-6h of science stations ahead. Winds are steady, we're making good time, and everyone appears happy. Crossing the equator - a rare event for most sailors - is up next for the students of S223.

-Dr. Barbara Block

Back to Sea from Nuku Hiva

2009-05-24T09:44:00.000-07:00

Sunday at sea. After about 3½ days at anchor, we left Nuku Hiva around 1730 yesterday, and while everyone was sad to say goodbye to the magical island, I think we were all ready to go to sea again. During the night, we set our course for 355ºPSC, set sails, and shut off the main engine! Nothing like the trade winds to carry us to Hawai’i.

Some highlights from our 3 days in port:
-On Wednesday, we had an epic hike through the lush tropical vegetation to a waterfall that Captain Phil knew about. Considering the seemingly limitless surrounding vertical walls, isolated nature of the pools, and the coolness of the water, it’s no wonder that there was unanimous agreement on the boat that it was the coolest place most of us had ever been in our lives. We closed out our first day in port with a delicious barbeque dinner on deck, some sweet live music, and general merriment enjoyed by all.

-On Thursday, the “off” watches dispersed for a wide array of adventures, including tattoo-seeking, hiking, swimming, hitch-hiking, scuba diving, and pineapple-picking.

-On Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, most people on the boat had a chance to take a tour of the island from a local woman named Jocelyn. She showed us Taipivai valley (the location of and inspiration for Melville’s book Typee), countless breathtaking views, and incredible ancient archaeological ruins tucked away under the tropical canopy.

-On Saturday morning, some of us headed to the market on the wharf at 0530 to buy some fresh produce for the boat. There was a big festival that day, including an outrigger canoe race (average speed was about 10 knots, no big deal) and a dance party that unfortunately happened after we hauled up anchor.

Hard at Work

2009-05-20T09:43:00.000-07:00

It’s almost 1700, and the main salon is full of students cramming in their sun line calculations before we reach Nuku Hiva tomorrow. The deck was packed at Local Apparent Noon today as we were all trying to get our sun sights. Those of us not working up our LAN in the sweltering salon or on watch are up in the increasingly-crowded lab prepping for the MIME 4 station. We’re doing not one but two hydrocasts tonight woohoo!!! And a meter net and a neuston tow. That lab is going around the clock, that’s for sure. But we’re getting a ton of awesome data for the Marquesas Island Mass Effect project.

Wrapping up Work in the Gyre

2009-05-17T10:44:00.000-07:00

Student Stacy Aguilera counts fish on deck.

We are headed toward the Marquesas with gentle breezes and warm days. The water temperatures are the hottest we've seen, hovering about 85F, and the air temperatures are getting past the 90s. It is remarkably warm- but we're all staying well hydrated and cool with lots of water freshly made by reverse osmosis.

The ocean waters are oligotrophic -- nutrient-poor and a crystal clear. We're in our last days within the South Pacific Gyre, greeted daily by marvelous sunrises and sunsets. We'lll soon be in the Marquesas where two days of intense sampling are planned to examine the Island Mass Effect- examining howthe islands, like rocks in a stream, create vorticity and upwelling in the wake behind the strong west-flowing currents. This creates hot spots with nutrient-rich waters coming to the surface.

Eugene and Ethan will be leading the stations through this region- we anticipate up to 6 stops to sample the physics, nutrients, and biological life in the water column.

During the transit from Rangaroa to NukaHiva, Natalie Arnoldi caught some skipjack tuna for her project, which focuses on the foraging diet of these warm-water predators.

As we're crossing the water column, the carbon and climate research group - led by Jessica Hinojosa, Mara, Reese and Sam - has been getting super Total CO2 and pH in situ. The data coming in are research-grade, and everyone is excited about the opportunity to make such precise measurements that have a bearing on how oceans impact climate.

Soon we'll be at Nuka Hiva- a high pointof our stay in French Polynesia.

-Dr. Barbara Block

Science in the South Pacific Gyre

2009-05-14T08:45:00.000-07:00

Students furling a small sail aboard the Seamans.

The RCS is in the South Pacific Gyre where we can report very warm waters, oliogtrophic seas and fair breezes, minor squalls and occasionally no wind at all! We're heading toward the Marquesas and Science is in full swing. We daily are collecting CTD casts with Niskin water bottles that are collecting samples for nutrients, chlorophyll and carbon. Nets are going in daily at noon and midnight aswe target the biodiversity of the epipelagic to the mesopelagic. Diverse creatures from pteropods to porpita greet us daily.

We're heading toward Nuka Hiva and the next 3 days will be filled with stations for the Island Mass project that Ethan and Eugene are heading up. In the midst of this oligotrophic, low-productivity sea they hope to identify how and why regions of high productivity occur in association with the Islands. Satellite imagery provided by Dave Foley of NOAA has guided our approach and late tonight we start a series of 5-6 stations to see what exactly occurs in the water column around this area. Fishing has picked up, with animals as diverse as tunas, wahoo and spearfish attacking some of the baits we're towing for sampling the epipelagic.

Spirits are high among our students, and all is well aboard the RCS as we are getting into the rhythm of beingat sea.

Dr. Barbara Block

Rangaroa Atoll - which means “Long skies”

2009-05-12T13:37:00.000-07:00

Lush green coconut trees, thick vegetation, turquoise waters and crushed coral shores. After coursing through a challenging channel between the Motu Islands of this fantastic and large atoll, we came inside the lagoon to an anchorage overlooking a tranquil scene - a tropical paradise that includes a small town, a few dive shops, a pearl farm and a resort hotel.

We explored the sediments below the ship for a geological project investigating the history of the coral lagoon during the early morning hours. Using our zodiacs we made landfall and took on a variety of shore activities. Snorkel trips took off investigating the reef fish, channel explorations revealed a vast biological diversity inclusive of rays, barracuda, reef fish and sharks. The atoll’s fishers and divers know the sea well here and shared with us the Polynesian’s latest information on the state of their reef.

Missions on small boats to investigate the geology of the lagoon and students studying pelagic fish went off after the rare dogtooth tuna. Fishing on the outside of the atoll we encountered several bait balls rich with frigate birds, boobies and yellowfin tunas. We almost caught the elusive dogtooth as the sun set but lost this large reef predator right at the boat. Perhaps in the Marquesas we’ll get another opportunity. The port stop was short but allowed the students and faculty time to explore a remarkable location in the Tuamotus - the “Sea Islands”.

Dr. Barbara Block

The Class Arrives!

2009-05-10T13:29:00.000-07:00

The Stanford@SEA class arrived in Papetee Tahiti after many of the students enjoyed a few days of touring the islands of Tahiti and Moorea. We met the RCS (Robert Seamans) at the central dock in a busy downtown and casted off the lines for Moorea a nearby island. Dr. Boris Worm from Dalhousie joined the scientific team of Rob Dunbar, Barb Block and Jan Witting, and together with the captain, crew and students we casted off the lines for our 5 week adventure.

After a delightful short trip from Tahiti across gentle seas we anchored in Cook’s Bay in the center of an ancient volcano. The anchorage was surrounded by lush green, jagged peaks and a tranquil setting for our ship orientations and safety briefings. We gazed at crystal blue waters and a gorgeous sunset set while feasting on a home cooked dinner on deck.

The Robert Seamans anchored in Cook's Bay

The next morning we left in the morning for Rangaroa, the second largest Atoll in the world. Fair breezes from the west made sailing easy and by midday we had most of our lower canvas up. Students are quickly learning the rig of the RCS. Science stations have started and CTD casts (an instrument that measures physical parameters of the water column) and water samples for a variety of projects have been collected. The Class has quickly mastered many instruments as we had a rapid succession of stations collecting microbiology samples from a Long Term Ecological site off Moorea for a project funded in part by the Census of Marine Life (CoML), nutrient and carbon samples from depths along the track and than some net tows into the water column. Dr. Dunbar’s team has successfully installed a sophisticated instrument for sampling total carbon in the surface waters allowing several projects to make some major measurements along our cruise track that will inform the team about the oceans role in the carbon cycle.

It's been a quick and successful start.

Dr. Barbara Block

Stanford@SEA to set sail across the Pacific

2009-05-07T10:07:00.000-07:00

From Stanford Report, May 1, 2009

BY LOUIS BERGERON

Ask anyone who is a master at their craft, and you'll likely be told there is no substitute for hands-on experience. At some point, you have to get your feet wet if you're going to learn how it's done. Thus, the Stanford@SEA program, which takes students on a five-week voyage on the Pacific Ocean to conduct oceanographic research and heighten their awareness of the vital role the oceans play in supporting life on Earth and regulating the global climate system.

This is how you're going to get the next generation of students thinking about these problems," said Barbara Block, the Charles and Elizabeth Prothro Professor in Marine Sciences at Stanford University, Hopkins Marine Station, and one of the instructors.

The 22 undergraduates and two graduate students assisting in this year's class will fly to Tahiti the first week of May and set sail May 8 from Papeete aboard the oceanographic research vessel Robert C. Seamans. The 134-foot, two-masted brigantine will sail through part of the Society Islands before heading northeast across the Tuamoto Archipelago to the Marquesas Islands. Leaving French Polynesia, the expedition will head northwest, crossing the equator as they sail roughly 3,500 nautical miles of open ocean to Hawaii. The group will be at sea for 37 days.

Along the route, the students will be conducting oceanographic research projects they designed during the on-land half of the course at Hopkins Marine Station, as they studied oceanography, and maritime culture and nautical science, the latter taught by the ship's captain. The steel-hulled ship was built specifically for ocean research and teaching, with laboratory, library, classroom and computer facilities on board. Students' research projects this year will include investigating the role of the equatorial currents in the carbon cycle and how ocean acidity is affecting certain invertebrates.

In addition to research, the students are required to pitch in with operating and maintaining the ship—everything from swabbing the decks to standing watch to navigating and steering the ship itself. Various members of the team also will be blogging as the voyage progresses.

Christopher Hanson, now a junior, went on the voyage in 2007. He and a partner studied populations of large predators in the Line Islands in the central Pacific.

"Stanford@SEA is an incredible experience," Hanson said. One of his strongest memories is of smelling the grass and flowers of the Hawaiian Islands as they appeared on the horizon after the long sea voyage.

"You don't realize what the Earth smells like until you are away from land for weeks at a time and you are surrounded by ocean," he said.

Hanson credits the experience with helping guide him to his major in the Earth Systems Program. "Prior to that voyage, I had never even heard of [that major]," he said. But Rob Dunbar, the W. M. Keck Professor in the School of Earth Sciences and the Victoria P. and Roger W. Sant Director of the Earth Systems Program, was one of the chief scientists on the voyage. Dunbar is teaching and sailing again this year.

"Stanford@SEA is my all-time favorite teaching experience. We are able to focus and observe in ways that are never possible in a normal classroom back at Stanford," Dunbar said. "This class always ends up changing peoples lives … and even though I've been going to sea for more than 40 years I always learn something new that changes how I think about the ocean. I expect this trip will be no different." Block said a lot of students have been guided in their career choices by their time on such voyages.

Bruce Robison is one of many former students who took a similar class in the 1960s, when Stanford was using the converted luxury yacht Te Vega as an ocean-going research vessel, and was influenced.

Robison said that while the ship and program were different when he was a student, the fundamental goal was the same. "Take students to sea and let them conduct research in an environment that in many respects, both literally and virtually, was total immersion," he said. "It was the best thing that ever happened to me."

Robison is now a senior research scientist at the Monterey Bay Aquarium Research Institute in Moss Landing, but back in 1967 he wasn't sure of his direction.

"I was interested, but I didn't really know if I had any aptitude," he said. "One of the things that [a voyage like] this shows you is that oceanography, at any rate as we still practice it, is both physically challenging as well as intellectually challenging.

"When I realized, 'Hey, I can do this and I like it!' that was an important revelation," he said.

"The sea has a special capacity to kindle in many people this very transformative experience where they then move on to a career in ocean sciences," said Block, who herself was influenced in her career choice by taking a similar class as an undergraduate through the Sea Education Association (SEA), in Woods Hole, Mass., which owns and operates the Robert C. Seamans, a ship built with support from private funders as well as the National Science Foundation.

Stanford@SEA is a cooperative venture between the Massachusetts association and Stanford. In addition to Block and Dunbar, a third chief scientist on this year's voyage will be a marine biologist with the Sea Education Association, Jan Witting. Boris Worm, an ecologist from Dalhousie University, also will be on the trip, as will three additional associate scientists and five professional crewmembers.

This is the fourth session of Stanford@SEA, which has been offered alternate years, starting in 2003.

Block sees courses like Stanford@SEA as vital to the planet's future.

"Really what climate is about is how the atmosphere and the ocean are coupled, and if we don't teach this next generation about how these systems work, if we don't attract students to these types of courses and put them in touch with the ocean, I believe that we will not have enough people trained in this fashion in order to generate the type of scientific research we are going to need to pursue the questions we need to solve Earth's problems," she said.

Block and Dunbar are both senior fellows at Stanford's Woods Institute for the Environment.

WE'RE HOME!

2007-06-14T09:35:00.000-07:00

June 12, 2007. Aboard the SSV Robert C. Seamans, at dock in Honolulu. The city lights of Honolulu are so tantalizingly close, yet we are still so far away, so far detached from our land lives. The yellow flag flying on our mast indicates we have not yet cleared customs; we are still a part of the sea, an attraction of camera-flashing cruise-ship spectators. Now we celebrate our journey and prepare for our return to land.

There is something comforting about a green slab of land, rising high in the sky, up to misty clouds. We have casually cruised around the islands of Maui, Lanai and Molokai -- it has been more than a month since we have seen land higher than two meters (six feet) elevation. The green corrugated hills with white birds flitting over the soft covering of rainforest mesmerize us all while the calm waters quietly lull us out of our Pacific dream.

We have come so far on this journey, more than 3,000 nautical miles through the Pacific. In our last day of class we reflected on what we missed the most and least during our trip: the Internet, e-mail, a preoccupation with the media -- all the things that complicate our normal lives and make us lose sight of our true importance and where we are going. Here we gaze into the vast ocean and realize our insignificance against something larger than comprehension. Here the sea enlivens our passions and courses through our hearts.

Even though we may leave sight of the ocean for the first time in months, we will never forget the smiling faces of Kiribati, intricate creatures, glimmering sunsets, countless stars scattered throughout the night sky. These have shaped our thoughts of conservation and our own perceptions forever. We ecstatically await sharing our fabulous experiences, only hoping to communicate a portion of the experience that we will remember forever. -- Johnny Bartz, Stanford@SEA student

ANCHORING OFF MOLOKAI

2007-06-12T22:05:00.000-07:00

June 11, 2007. Aboard the SSV Robert C. Seamans. We're finally in the Hawaiian Islands. We passed Lanai and Maui, and had a super sail, tacking back and forth with almost full sails up, through the Pailoli channel between Maui and Molokai.

The islands look so high compared to the atolls of the Line Islands -- sharp cliffs, huge mountains hidden by clouds. Late yesterday, we had a spectacular downwind sail by the verdant cliffs of Molokai, where we could almost smell but not hear, the waterfalls that flow over the cliffs rising more than 2,000 feet from the sea.

We saw coves with the occasional person fishing the deep blue waters. With strong trade winds blowing at 25 to 30 knots, we came to a perfect place to drop anchor -- a protected coastline along a cliff with a volcanic rock and an emerald blue sea at sunset.

It is hard to believe that we've finished the journey. We've traveled more than 3,100 nautical miles, and now only a seven-hour sail separates us from Oahu, customs and our final dock.

As a community, we've been reflective of what we've gained, what we've accomplished and how our trip has affected all of us. Tomorrow, summer begins, and we will continue our journey as a Stanford community of seafaring friends. -- Barb Block, chief scientist

100 MILES FROM LAND

2007-06-10T11:22:00.000-07:00

June 10, 2007. Aboard the SSV Robert C. Seamans. We're within a day of seeing land. It's hard to imagine we've sailed 3,000 nautical miles in a triangle from Hawaii, through the Line Islands and back.

The sail home has been a good one, complete with periods of strong winds, a few squalls, some head seas that made things slightly uncomfortable, to times where we've had very little wind and had to turn on the motor to make sure we'd get back on schedule.

During the last days of the voyage, each student takes on the role of a Junior Watch Officer. This is the pinnacle of the nautical science portion of the program. The JWO is in general command of the ship, and gives commands to her or his peers. I hear students, not mates, calling out all maneuvers.

In addition, the students have all been busy preparing and presenting their scientific results from their research projects. We've heard terrific results, from a report of the phytoplankton diversity along our cruise track, to an explanation why white sharks and sea turtles might hang out in cyclonic eddies south of Hawaii or along frontal boundaries where jellies abound.

The Line Island projects showed fascinating results on predator and herbivore diversity. This year's data allows us to fill in some gaps from prior cruises. Over three cruises, we've biologically sampled all the Line Island atolls (Kiritimati, Tabuaeran, Teraina, Palmyra and Kingman).

For fun tonight, we're conducting a "styro cast". Everyone's drawing pictures on a regular coffee-size styrofoam cup. We put them all in a net bag, send them down to 3,000 meters (9,000 feet), where the pressure shrinks them -- and the illustrations -- into demitasse-size. -- Barb Block, chief scientist

GETTING CLOSER.....

2007-06-08T12:46:00.000-07:00

June 7, 2001. Aboard the SSV Robert C. Seamans. We're 250 nautical miles from Hawaii, and sailing with strong northeast trade winds. We're keeping busy doing CTD casts (which measure salinity, temperature and density of the water) at 3,000 feet (1,000 meters) below the surface, and bongo tows (which look like bongo drums with nets that are dragged behind the ship to catch plankton). All students are working on their projects, which they'll start presenting to the entire group on Friday. The students have also led conservation discussions under the stars. -- Barb Block, chief scientist

FAR AT SEA

2007-06-06T07:25:00.000-07:00

June 5, 2007. Aboard the SSV Robert C. Seamans. We're 550 nautical miles from the Hawaiian Islands and sailing with a strong northeast wind on our bow. It feels as if we're fighting to go uphill against the wind. We're working on projects, enjoying the sailing, and watching the Southern Cross sink into the nighttime horizon. Today, we are the farthest from land. Except for the occasional petrel, no seabirds are in sight. -- Barb Block, chief scientist

KINGMAN REEF

2007-06-03T22:17:00.000-07:00

June 1, 2007. Aboard the SSV Robert C. Seamans, near Kingman Reef. We’ve made it up to Kingman Reef, the northernmost point along the Line Islands. [The tiny spit of land is an unincorporated territory of the United States, and is administered by the U.S. Navy.] Bringing the Seamans within 0.15 nautical miles of this barren spit of reef is a remarkable moment for our program. Its also a bit of a tense experience. We tried to sail here during Stanford@SEA 2003, but did not make it into the channel due to squalls and cloudy weather, which made viewing of coral heads that bring up the bottom rapidly to 5 fathoms (one fathom is about six feet), and the disconcerting feeling that the charts were off.

This year, under the brilliant leadership of Captain Phil Sacks, we sailed into the reef on a spectacular sunny day. This was our Everest, taking this ship into this reef and allowing research to be conducted. It was not easy by any stretch of the imagination.
The coral cover beneath the sea surrounding the spit of land is astounding -- almost 100% in all places we’ve looked. Compared to any place in the Line Islands, the visibility is clearer and the colors of the coral reef more brillant, with the colors enhanced by giant clams everywhere.

We quickly conducted transects for predators and found the reef rich with large snappers, some groupers; black tip, gray reef and white tip sharks abounded. The herbivore fish include some of the species we’ve rarely seen, such as schools of moorish idols (Zanclus cornutus -- "Crowned Scythe"). Last night and into the early morning we had “shark night”. By chumming with leftover parts from our successful fishing endeavors, we were able to see about 16 gray reef sharks, some aggressively pursuing prey that we had attracted to our lights. We fed the sharks from the ship so that we could examine them up close. It was squally and rainy, and diligent work by the crew kept us safely away from the reef edge.

We spent the early morning using our small Avon inflatable boat to make landfalls on the spit of land. Here we were able to set foot on what I realized must be one of the most desolate places on Earth. A ghostly shipwreck loomed close to us, and we all took a picture near it. As I glanced at our ship and the shipwreck, I could not help but wonder what a forlorn situation it would be to be stranded here on a tiny spit surrounded by a shark-filled reef.

We collected two large trash bags of assorted plastics, line and buoys that may have drifted thousands of miles to land here. At noon, with a brisk wind, we sailed out of the reef for Hawaii. A 900 nautical-mile, 11-day journey over the ocean lies ahead. -- Barb Block, chief scientist

CATCHING UP...PALMYRA ATOLL

2007-06-03T22:05:00.000-07:00

May 31, 2007. Palmyra Atoll. Palmyra is the magical stop on our tour. This atoll which is owned by the Nature Conservancy has a working international research station. The intact lagoon, back reef and fore reef offer much to explore and study. We were met at Palmyra by the staff that run the research station, and scientists from Hawaii and California studying the bonefish and black tip sharks. NPR's Alex Chadwick from Radio Expeditions and Stanford News Service reporter Mark Schwartz doing stories on the atoll and the ship.

Once we were briefed on the rules of the road at Palmyra, we were allowed to explore with our skiffs filled with scientific teams. The coral reef team called the Hobo group with Sam Urmy, Johnny Bartz and Jess McNally set out to place Hobos at the various locations in the lagoon, channel and backreef. The predators group (Chris and Del) went out to Penguin Spit (formerly Tigershark point) to do some transects, along with the herbivore algae team (Visran and Kaori). Amy Briggs and Maija Leff also did some algal collections to search for diatoms that collect ciguatera toxin.

Many students and SEA staff wandered around the atoll, a place rich in palm trees, coconuts, and picturesque beaches, including one with a swimming hole complete with a rope swing.

The red-footed booby team sprung into high gear. Karen Lone, Melissa Kunz and I worked with bird researcher Scott Shaffer and graduate student Hillary. We went out every night we were in Palmyra. Wearing long shirts and pants, headlamps and packs, we trudged in rain and clear weather through mud and muck and onto the fore reef areas where the boobies were nesting in low hanging branches of trees.

We noosed the boobies with a long fishing rod that had a monofilament loop. It was challenging in moonlight to slip the noose over the head of the bird. My fishing skills transferred readily to booby catching, and, once a bird was noosed, the gals would swoop in and delicately weigh and tag the birds. The birds were quickly fitted with a GPS tag that was taped to three tail feathers.

We all marveled at holding a booby up close. I was amazed at the head structure -- the colors of the beak and feathers and the sharp serrations on the beak that help this animal catch fish and squid. We sampled some of what they ate, as they often regurgitated their meals and Hilary saved everything for future isotopic studies back at Stanford. We caught about 15 birds in 4 nights work, and instrumented 10.

I’ll forever remember the last night at Palmyra. Working in moonlight, Boris Worm, Sarah Rizk, Adam the first scientist and I tagged three mantas -- huge animals 10 feet or so across. While tagging mantas I had an encounter with a tiger shark that will last as a snapshot in my mind forever. I’ve never seen one so close, and let me tell you, there is little doubt in the water what shark you’re looking at. We sailed through the channel early in the morning on a clear day. It was a nice contrast to the squally rains that had been ever present there. A glorious exit, with mantas swimming beside us. -- Barb Block, chief scientist

CATCHING UP...TERAINA (WASHINGTON) ATOLL

2007-06-03T21:52:00.000-07:00

May 26, 2007. Washington Atoll. -- We approached Teraina (Washington) Atoll (one of the 32 islands and atolls that are part of the island nation of Kiribati) to compare this reef to Kiritimati (Christmas), Tabuaeran (Fanning) and Palmyra atolls. Teraina Atoll rises strikingly from the sea with a thick jungle of palms along the beaches. Our ship approaches to within a half-nautical mile of shore, and through the binoculars I can see kids running along the beach.
It was a remarkable moment as the ship loomed offshore with the lower sails up. I wondered what the isolated islanders thought when they saw this remarkable tall ship approaching so closely. The approach to shore at Washington Atoll was extremely steep along the beach with huge breaking waves, and we were unable to land a Zodiac ashore but we did allow four swimmers to swim through the surf zone and onto the island.

We launched our Zodiacs filled with equipment for our scientific snorkel missions. We were surprised at the lack of biodiversity in the fish -- predators (snappers, groupers and sharks) and herbivorous fishes at Washington Atoll, and assumed that the local population of about 1,000 islanders may have contributed to the decline of the reef fish.

I talked to one man who greeted me as I emerged from my swim to shore. At first he was concerned – who are you – what are you doing here? he asked. I realized we must have looked quite unusual- all of us in our neoprene swim-wear emerging from the water. I explained who we were and invited the man, whose name was Tauro, to our ship. There were numerous aluminum small craft and Tauro indicated they spearfish regularly on the reef.

His community looked significantly more isolated than at Kiritimati Island. We provided school supplies, some canned goods and I presented my favorite fishing lure and monofilament line to the boat captain who drove the aluminum skiff. As we sailed away, a triple header of yellowfin bit the lines, and we were able to sample two fish. Both had stomachs filled with very small animals, including crabs, shrimps, and small fish. -- Barb Block, chief scientist

LEAVING THE DAMP DAMP DAMP ITCZ

2007-06-02T14:51:00.000-07:00

May 31, 2007. Aboard the SSV Robert C. Seamans -- There is nothing more luxurious than a clean, dry shirt--something absent from my life this past week. We have finally left the Inter-Tropical Convergence Zone, which makes Palmyra such a damp place, allowing us to finally dry our clothes. I have never been to a place so wet, so tropical, so beautiful, with scuttling hermit crabs, scurrying rats, and miraculous reefs--a technicolor painting of the underwater world beyond the scope of imagination.

Perhaps many places used to look like Palmyra before human interaction, with numerous sea turtles, inquisitive black-tipped sharks, and graceful manta rays, several of which Barb Block tagged. Speaking of sharks, I tracked a black tip for six hours. The constant ping of the satellite tag reminded me of songs, playing in my head, a reminiscence of civilization that I left at home, under my bed. I asked about the diet of the black tips, and learned that in addition to reef fish, these sharks eat fallen booby chicks and rats! Supposedly being eaten by a shark is a 'good way to go' for a fallen chick, since the alternate fate would entail coconut crabs picking out their eyes. It's a tough life for a fallen booby chick.

Along with the damp weather, we bid adieu to Rob Dunbar, who is staying on Palmyra for coral research. Now Barb is the mother of us all, the queen bee of our Pacific colony. I should mention that the ship itself feels like home. Each day, returning from a scientific mission or a shore expedition, we receive comfort by grabbing a snack in the saloon before curling into our bunks, no matter how stifling, and regardless of the number of damp clothing articles we are trying to dry. We are truly a shipboard family, about to begin our homeward journey, preparing to grasp every last moment as we again traverse the vast Pacific. - Johnny Bartz, Stanford@SEA student

ON TOP OF THE YARD

2007-06-02T14:45:00.000-07:00

May 22nd, 2007. Aboard the SSV Robert C. Seamans. [ed. note -- This is a posting from a student on May 22.]

Aloft!

After ten long days of waiting, my dream had finally come. For months I had imagined this moment: sitting on top of the wind, 60 feet above the deck, staring in wonder at the vast blue surrounding me. I felt like I could see forever, not because we were in the middle of nowhere, but because we were in the center of something.

Studying oceanography gives one an entirely new perspective on the world - an entirely different dimension, almost invisible from the surface. A glance over the blue would yield nothing more than waves, but the flying fish and seabirds give a glimpse of the land beneath. It's impossible to be alone on the high seas with so much "something" around you.

We lay there on top of the yard, watching the people on deck so far beneath us, suddenly part of a separate layer of Earth. You don't know the troposphere until you get off the ground. Up here we were weightless. We were free. We were not as human, or at least not at an evolutionary advantage - most humans should have better common sense than to climb up the mast on a tall ship. But at that moment, all the way I had come to get here now had a purpose.

I anticipated this voyage for over a year, but the R.C. Seamans was only a means to a beginning. To be a true oceanographer, you have to understand the inhabitants of the sea, but to see beyond the science, you must understand what the ocean inhabits.

The view from the top is great. - Kat Hoffman, Stanford@SEA student

SHARKS AND BOOBIES IN PALMYRA

2007-05-29T23:48:00.001-07:00

May 29, 2007. Palmyra Atoll. We're in Palmyra now - an atoll that the Nature Conservancy has set up as a preserve and natural laboratory. A consortium of universities and museums has established this unique atoll as a research station.

Along with consortium scientists, the students of Stanford@SEA are conducting their missions in the small boats around the lagoons by running transect lines to continue their observations for comparison with Kiritimati and Washington islands. Because there are few people living on Palmyra, there is a trophic cascade that is rich with top predators (aka sharks).

We saw three-foot white tip sharks yesterday during our transects. The booby team (Karen and Melissa) began working with renowned TOPP bird researcher Scott Shaffer and a graduate student, Hillary, from Stanford. We've been out for two nights in a row using a modified fishing pole to catch the boobies as they are nesting and than quickly attach a GPS transmitter.

I found my skills with poles and monofilament transferred quickly to catching boobies out of trees. The work is done in the middle of the night. The first night we were rained on and were still getting used to being on land at night; it's a sharp contrast to being at sea. The jungle was rich with life -- crabs moving across our path, spiders, eels along the water's edge and the remarkable cries of the sooty tern colonies.

Last night we worked under moonlight and stars; it was spectacular. We've recovered the first two tags. One track shows a booby heading toward our next destination -- Kingman Reef. Our interest is in how the land and sea connect here and the relationship between one atoll and the next. We hope to recover 4 GPS tags tonight. If so, Melissa and Karen will have the key to understanding how the red-footed boobies use the ocean to feed their chicks. -- Barb Block, chief scientist

SAILING INTO PALMYRA LAGOON

2007-05-29T23:42:00.000-07:00

May 27, 2007. Palmyra Atoll. We have come to our final stop before returning to Honolulu: Palmyra Atoll. It is evident from the modernity of the facilities that we are again in a U.S. territory, the rural Kiribati behind us. A reporter from Stanford came to interview students about our experiences and projects, but words cannot fully record our journeys, neither can his sophisticated video camera. A person would have to see that deep blue ocean, wave to smiling people of Kiribati, see their faces as they smiled back, the children playing frisbee with us on the beach, learn from their simple lives that keep cohesion and happiness, reflect against the ocean waves extending into oblivion. These things, times, places that a camera cannot capture, will live in our minds forever.

I have a slight fisherman's tale to tell, if I may boast just this once. I was doing an hourly bird observation, and the fishing rod began to scream behind me, the monstrous fish almost fully spooling the line as it dove into the depths. It was an epic 45-minute battle to land the fish, involving Tuna-Queen Barb, Adam the scientist, Captain Phil, and myself, taking two gaffs to raise the 90-pound yellowfin tuna to deck, which Barb quickly dissected with relish, coercing me to take a bite of the still beating heart. Dolphins at the bow interrupted us, splashing next to our ship, accompanying the most beautiful sunset -- a perfect end to a magnificent evening.

Our entrance into the Palmyra lagoon was utterly spectacular as boobies and other birds accompanied our ship. The howling wind from a passing squall died, and soon the buzz, the drone, the shriek of thousands of nesting terns became audible as we saw the dark cloud rising into the sky and swooping down into the jungle, more birds than you have ever seen, their soothing noise continuing well into the night, all I need to lull me to sleep in tropical paradise. - Johnny Bartz, S@S student

AT KIRITIMATI....AKA CHRISTMAS ISLAND

2007-05-28T18:27:00.000-07:00

May 24, 2007. Kiritimati, Kiribati -- We arrived in the Line Islands on a gorgeous sunny afternoon and anchored offshore of Christmas Island 2 days ago. Here, emerald lagoon seas reflect green colors in the clouds, and coral sands are bleached white. Our mission has changed, as we've been conducting scientific surveys (transects), snorkeling inshore reefs, and exploring Christmas Island.

We've transitioned to Leg 2 of our voyage where the focus is on the coral reefs of the Line Islands. Our ultimate goal is to survey the status of the back reefs along the Line Islands chain to assess the impact of the local inhabitants on the health of the reef systems. By comparing along the gradient of human habitation (from 9,000 people on Kiritimati to relatively uninhabitated coral atolls at Palmyra and pristine Kingman Reef) we hope to garner a better understanding of human impact on these vital reef systems. Project science included surveying the reefs to examine the state of the biodiversity of apex predator coral reef fish by Chris Hanson and Del Rego with Barb Block and Doug McCauley swimming close by.

Visran Vischit-Vadakan and Kaori Tsukado, advised by visiting scientist Boris Worm, did transects that investigated herbivorous fishes. Sam Urmy, Jess McNally and Johnny Bartz, working with chief scientist Rob Dunbar, conducted a lagoon coral health project that placed temperature recorders along the lagoon regions to observe how the lagoon waters influence the physical characteristics of the water column and ultimately the coral reef community.

Students also participated in recreational snorkeling. I took one group out for a trip with experienced guide Kim Anderson of Dive Kiribati. Within three hours we swam with a large manta ray, dolphin, caught a barracuda and large blue trevally that we let go. We saw dolphin fish leap out of the water after flying fish, and gasped as a booby swooped in front of our boat to grab, and then lose, a flying fish that erupted pushed up into the air by our presence.
We met with Henry Genthe, a former chief scientist of SEA in the early years, who told stories of the early days of the program aboard Westward. Genthe, his family, and the students and staff at St. Francis High, a local school, hosted a spectacular gathering for our students. We all sat together in Henry's backyard -- literally the beach front -- as the sun set and students from St. Francis performed a series of welcome songs and traditional dances.

Stanford@SEA students led by Kat Hoffman performed several songs of their own. As the evening wore on, all the students danced together to local music. The evening was memorable primarily for the new friends, and exchange of new rhythms, dance and songs, but most importantly for the cultural exchange that has been on going between SEA and Stanford students and St. Francis for many trips.

We donated books we gathered back at Stanford to several schools. We pulled anchor at 1300 and left for Washington Island, a 2-day sail. We sailed through a feeding frenzy completely with diving birds, including boobies and frigates, and leaping tunas chasing flying fish. It was a super sight. We quickly dissected two of the 25-pound skipjack we caught, and found 8 squid (which we promptly called Meridith Capenter to sample), several baby tunas (which I put away for later viewing) and a variety of ocean life in their tummies. It was a great end to a fascinating day. -- Barb Block, chief scientist

AT SEA...FIRST LEG, PART FOUR

2007-05-21T23:56:00.000-07:00

May 21, 2007. Aboard the SSV Robert C. Seamans. It's hard to believe we have been on this ship for ten days without the sight of land; it feels more like one, or maybe two long days -- experiences melded together by the sea. Three months ago I never could have imagined myself sorting through plankton nets next to two world-renowned scientists, but now it is all too real as we approach Christmas Island in the central Pacific. Every minute I stay up, after my watch is over, to gaze at the bioluminescence of the waters, I find something I have never seen before, a whole mysterious world brought to the lights of our boat during the darkness. The sight of the most magnificent sunsets, boobies circling overhead, and the rolling waves of the vast Pacific all inspire me in this intimate experience with the ocean.

The transformation that the whole ship community has undergone is remarkable. I remember the first day when practically the entire boat was stricken with seasickness. The students and professors alike (well only Rob) bonded as we shared the rails to hurl our insides into the sea, food for Barb's tuna and the flying fish that we could see as we literally 'worshipped' the swells. But that is all over, rest assured to our avid readers. Now we hardly even notice a difference as the ship heels and lists while under way, our only indication is the gimbaled tables that rock to prevent our dishes spilling on the floor. It is equally amazing how close the community has come, recognizing the smell of each others' shoes on deck, or laundry as we hang it to dry.

As the excitement builds for our landfall at Christmas Island, there is also a sense of nostalgia: Our sea passage is coming to an end, one phase of our experience complete. I can remember the smell of land as we left Kaleakakua Bay, the sweet scent of plumeria, and, yet, I feel no urgent need for land, just the excitement to continue learning and experiencing the ocean's wonders. -- Johnny Bartz, Stanford@SEA student

AT SEA...FIRST LEG, PART FOUR

2007-05-21T12:51:00.000-07:00

May 19, 2007. Aboard the SSV Robert C. Seamans. Today was sunny and hot here in the tropics. The temperatures are rising. It was 83 degrees near my bunk, which I can attest is not the most comfortable temperature to sleep at. For the first time on this trip, I felt hot.

The day began with strong seas, sails full, and the largest waves of the trip. They're primarily wind-driven and long-period swells. The ship is rolling easily side to side and moving quickly across the top of these waves, sinking into the troughs and rising over the next. Its fun -
somewhat like an amusement park ride, with more roll and lean than any prior day. Speeds as high as 10 knots are helping to make up time from the heavy science stations in the first part of the leg. We're now within 400 nautical miles of our destination, Christmas Island.

Despite the high seas, students are conducting Winkler titrations in the lab, chlorophyll assays, and alkalinity titrations - a testament to the true grit of this program and the Stanford students. You have to hold on a bit more, and use your legs to steady your balance, but after 8 days, we're all experienced at maintaining our balance.

Mindy Summers has conducted her first respiration experiments which is a breakthrough for all of us. She struggled with chief scientists Jeff Schell, Rob Dunbar and Barb Block for three days as they solved software problems for this "first-time" instrument for this trip. As in any science done shipboard, there are often great rewards and challenges and, for Mindy, the disappointment of not having this unique instrument working was palpable. Finally, the microrespirometer is working, and animals such as amphipods, copepods and shrimp from the evening tows are now being placed into miniature chambers and having their metabolic energetics examined.

Kat is looking daily under the Zeiss microscope at the phytoplankton she's been collecting as she examines the species composition along the transect. The members of the turtle team are preparing for their final station now that we're deep into the productive region of the lower latitude frontal station. Satellite images from shore have extremely useful and provide guidance as we select station locations.

We're entering the most productive waters of the trip - the hottest waters - beyond the frontal edge, the region we have yet to see the sea turtles penetrate. My guess is it's just too hot for their reptilian physiology. Large body size, and retention of heat in a 1,700-pound (800 kg) sea turtle would be hard for the turtle to dissipate, and it would overheat. Remarkably, the thermocline (where the water temperature drops rapidly with depth) is shoaling and the oxygen minimum layer is as shallow as 150m. Below this depth, the water is as cold as 8 degrees C and there is less than 1% of the oxygen we have at the surface. This raises a ton of interesting questions that the students are pondering.

Chief scientist Rob Dunbar, Stanford University professor of geology and environmental sciences, gave a fascinating lecture on carbonate production and dissolution in this region of the Pacific, and provided the students with a context for understanding the vertical profiles revealed with the daily noon CTD casts. Related to these observations, Annie Scofield's project involves measuring the pH and alkalinity in samples collected from the deep ocean beneath the ship. She is studying the carbon system in this seldom-sampled part of the planet.

Guest scientist Boris Worm, an assistant professor of marine conservation biology at Dalhousie University in Halifax, Canada, and students have been recording birds daily for Juliann Schamel's project and have had their first sighting of a bird that's native to Kiritimati Island (Christmas Island). That suggests we're getting closer to our Line Island destination. The evening meal was an ono (also known as wahoo) caught on a large lure earlier in the day. -- Barb Block and Rob Dunbar, chief scientists

AT SEA...FIRST LEG, PART THREE

2007-05-21T12:37:00.000-07:00

May 18, 2007. Aboard the SSV Robert C. Seamans. The ship continues on its way south and we are experiencing the remarkable wonders of sailing a tall ship. The trade winds are blowing strong and steady and all the students of the 2007 Stanford@SEA class have their sea legs.

The routine of the ship runs now like clockwork - with watches (groups of students) rising and relieving one another with an energy and enthusiasm that reminds me of when I was a student aboard Westward. Our students are carrying on the continuous rhythm of the ship's mission: research, sailing, cooking meals, catching fish (wahoo and tuna) and simply experiencing high seas sailing.We've just passed the point where we're farthest away from land. With winds as strong as 30 knots and almost all the sails of the tall ship up, it almost feels like flying. And at night, with starlit skies, our bow is directly pointed at the Southern Cross which rises higher each night. The stars and planets are intense in the evening sky. Venus is brighter than I've ever seen it. A sliver of the moon rises early in the evening. One understands how Polynesian voyagers could use the star Arcturus to navigate as it rises prominently in the evening sky.The students have been collecting sun and star sights with their sextants and calculating our position. Jess McNally was the first to put a position on the chart, and, using astronomical math, was within 5 nautical miles of the GPS positions. This group is among the strongest we've had in navigation and nautical science, which met daily in the shore component and continues here in a practical context at sea. Their enthusiasm for using the sextant, shooting local apparent noon sights, and learning is almost insatiable. Del Rego commented today that nautical science might be the most practical course he's ever taken at Stanford - "I'm learning about the planet". Captain Phil and engineer Dusty are working daily on sextant handling, reduction of the positions and teaching how to use the stars to navigate.
Over in science, the turtle team continues sampling along the frontal boundary where the northern equatorial current meets the counter current. Using temperature and salinity along with chlorophyll as a cue, we've focused in on our second station of three. At midnight we conducted a long three-hour station. Our meter net was filled with the jelly biomass of siphonophores and pyrosomes that lit the evening with their remarkable flaming bioluminescence. While conducting the station, squid filled the evening lights and flying fish were so plentiful they were jumping right into the boat - this shows the richness of the frontal edge.

Christmas Island lies 4 days ahead and our students with Line Island projects are memorizing fish, preparing their gear, and sorting out field plans. But for now, we have fallen into a routine of sailing ever southward, with a warm breeze out of the northeast and twice daily station stops punctuated by afternoon all-hands meetings. We are a happy ship. -- Barb Block and Rob Dunbar, chief scientists

AT SEA....FIRST LEG, PART TWO

2007-05-18T08:12:00.000-07:00

May 16, 2007. Aboard the SSV Robert C. Seamans. The ship is currently approaching the halfway point between Hawaii and Christmas Island -- 14.50 of latitude on the 156.5 line of longitude.

Last night might have been one of the most exciting evenings ever on the Seamans with a Stanford@SEA class. With the help of people on shore who are providing satellite images of the ocean surface, we located and crossed a dynamic feature of oceanography and reacted quick enough to sample the physical oceanography and got a rare glimpse of what lives in the region.

The ocean is a dynamic place and when you look across the surface its often hard to "see" the distinctions between different water masses. But when we saw a booby fly over the ship at 4 p.m. so far from land, it should have been a sign that we were close to a large oasis in the sea.

After a super day of sailing at speeds as high as 8 knots we were moving steadily along on the evening watch when the science lab noticed the fluorescence climbing steadily, the surface temperatures warming and the salinity dropping. These were all signs that we were crossing from the North Equatorial Current (NEC) into a new water mass.
A satellite image from David Foley of NOAA had just come through and we recognized that we were on an extension (that green "finger" on the left in the image above) of the Inter-Tropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ), a strong frontal zone that is approximately at 11o north. This finger, which extends as much as 200 miles north of the front, was a lunch spot for a leatherback sea turtle that's wearing a satellite tag. Stanford students Larisa Lehmer and Scot McCrackan are studying how leatherback sea turtles follow the frontal zones. They hypothesize the turtles use this tactic to forage on jellies. They think that these "fingers" serve as small buffet tables for the sea turtles, allowing them to dine on the rich resources yet remain on the cooler side of the front.

Leatherbacks are "gigantotherms" and are warm-bodied. The hot waters of the ITCZ may be too warm for their huge five- to six-foot bodies, and, by nibbling on jellies at the point of the convergence of the two water masses, they possibly gain a slight energetic advantage.

The ship passed through the finger and, as the fluorescence signal declined, SEA chief scientist Jeff Schell and I asked Captain Phil Sacks to turn the ship around -- quickly! The "B" watch team (the students work in groups, and take turns being on "watch" to sail the ship) conducted a rapid jib manuver, crossing 3 sails, and within 20' we were back on the feature. Here we once again jibbed and put the ship hove to (come to a stop, in landlubber language). At midnight, we tossed the CTD profiler in the water. We also threw out a series of nets. One was 2 meter net at a depth of 150 feet (50 meters) that caught more jellies than anyone had ever seen. A second was a bongo net for squid, which student Meridith Carpenter is studying. A third net was a neuston net to capture life in the surface waters. The team worked into the early morning hours but went to bed satisfied that the mystery of why the sea turtles forage along the frontal edges had for a moment been solved. -- Barb Block, chief scientist

AT SEA....FIRST LEG, PART ONE

2007-05-18T07:51:00.000-07:00

May 15. Aboard the SSV Robert C. Seamans, Pacific Ocean. The 2007 class of Stanford@SEA has made steady progress south toward the Line Islands. We're on the "Open Sea Transect Leg" and have had tremendous success. The students, professors, and crew are working 24 hours a day conducting research, sailing the ship and providing all the necessary forage for the 38 people on board.

South of the Hawaiian Islands, we've focused on the oceanography and ecology of eddy features. We crossed the center of an anticylonic downwelling eddy and clipped a piece of a cyclonic eddy. Here we studied the ecosystems of both features with Gen Del Raye, a freshman at Stanford. His project is assisting researchers at Tagging of Pacific Predators to investigate how and why large predators such as white sharks swim thousands of miles to forage in these eddies.

Sure enough, by deploying instruments that profiled the physical elements of the water column and nets that sampled the organisms living in the water, we were able to find distinct differences between the "hot" and "cold" eddy features. Also, by sending down the CTD (an instrument that measures salinity, temperature, and chemistry of the water), we were able to see that there is a significant drop in oxygen in deeper waters, which may explain why the sharks seem to dive to depths as great 1,350 to 1500 feet (450-500 meters), but quickly resurface. Water samples taken from bottles on the CTD that took samples of this deep water were also used by Annie Scofield to study changes in ocean alkalinity, in important parameter for determining oceanic uptake of carbon dioxide. -- Barb Block and Rob Dunbar, chief scientists

FISHING, TAGGING OFF THE BIG ISLAND

2007-05-13T19:26:00.000-07:00

May 12. Aboard the SSV Robert C. Seamans. We sailed from Oahu to the island of Hawai'i. The high winds channeling between the islands made for some rough seas within a few hours of the departure. With Beaufort force 5 and 6 conditions we were able to get across to Kealakekua Bay a half day ahead of schedule.
The calm waters of the Big Island were a welcome relief to the students and crew who found the channel crossings a bit uncomfortable. Today, we split into teams: three teams went sport-fishing aboard local charter boats Sea Baby III, Silky and a third vessel, and another team went snorkeling at the Captain Cook memorial. Here scientists Rob Dunbar and Boris Worm led our students on an underwater survey in the marine preserve to study the diverse reef fish and unusually healthy corals of Kealakekua Bay.

Our students sharpened their in-the-water observational skills in advance of our field work in the Line Islands. This is the healthiest coral preserve in the Hawai'ian Islands and provides a useful reference site as we move to warmer waters near the equator.

The team aboard the Sea Baby III fished with legendary Captain Freddy Rice. Within 2 hours they hooked up to a striped marlin and the line screamed off the reel. Karen Lone, a Stanford junior, jumped into the fighting chair and reeled the fish to the boat where I quickly tagged the fish over the side with a pop-up satellite archival tag. The fish was released without any difficulties: it swished its tail and swam away. The tagging event will complement ongoing studies of striped marlin being conducted by New Zealand scientists in collaboration with the Block lab. Students aboard the fishing vessel Silky tagged and released a spearfish.
The spectacular day was capped when Herb Kane, noted Hawaiian artist and historian, mesmerized all aboard with stories of Captain Cook's encounters with native Hawai'ians in the bay in 1779, and of ancient voyages of the Polynesian voyagers. -- Barb Block, chief scientist

ON BOARD THE SEAMANS!

2007-05-10T08:18:00.000-07:00

May 9. Aboard the SSV Robert C. Seamans, Honolulu, HI. Today the 26 members of the Stanford@SEA class of 2007 -- undergraduate students, graduate students and professors -- joined the Seamans at Pier 35.

Tomorrow, we will cast off the lines and make way for the Big Island of Hawai'i and Kealakekua Bay. Here we'll be met by well known sport fishers. The students will spend the morning fishing, snorkeling and practicing transects in the bay. In the evening, we'll be joined by Herb Kawainui Kane (pronounced KAY-ney). Kane, an artist, author and historian, will describe the events that took place at the bay when British explorer Captain James Cook visited and died there in 1779.

Kane's research on Polynesian canoes and voyaging led to his participation as general designer and builder of the sailing canoe Hokule'a, on which he served as its first captain. Hokule'a has now made four round-trip voyages between Hawai'i and Tahiti, and a 16,000 mile pan-Polynesia voyage to New Zealand and back, all navigated without instruments.

We will then sail due south toward the island nation of Kiribati (pronounced Kiribas) and begin the scientific portion of the trip on the "transect leg". Here we hope to focus on a variety of student-led projects including identifying species of squid that live in the open sea, studying phytoplankton communities and ocean food webs, and why animals such as leatherback turtles and other Pacific predators use eddies -- the life-filled whirlpools that move across the ocean.

Of course, the first few days will be the hardest when all of us are learning the lines on the ship, and getting used to its pitch and roll. The trades are moderately strong, which will provide a quick sail to our destination. This hopefully will allow more time for science "on station" along the transect leg.

The enthusiasm is palpable as we prepare to set sail. -- Barb Block, chief scientist

LEAVING FOR HAWAII!!

2007-05-06T18:33:00.000-07:00

May 6. Hopkins Marine Station, Stanford University. The shore component of the Stanford@SEA program finished on Friday. For the last 5 weeks, 21 Stanford undergraduate students and three graduate students have been learning about oceanography, maritime history, marine conservation, sailing and navigation. Now they're on their way to Hawaii to join the tall ship SSV Robert C. Seamans for a voyage to the island nation of Kiribati, and up the Line Islands to the unique Palmyra Atoll and Kingman Reef. The trip will take five weeks, and end in mid-June back in Hawaii.

Under the watchful eyes of Seamans Capt. Phil Sacks and his crew, the students will be sailing the ship 'round the clock, cleaning the ship, fixing meals for all on board, and assisting in maintaining the ship. Under the tutelage of Stanford@SEA chief scientists Barb Block, Jeff Schell and Rob Dunbar, they'll be doing the fieldwork for their research and putting together the presentations that they'll do at sea on the last leg between Palmyra Atoll and Hawaii. Also on board will be guest scientist Boris Worm of Dalhousie University.

When they're able, they'll send us messages to post on the blog. They'll be boarding the ship on Wednesday, and leaving shortly thereafter.-- Jane Stevens, Stanford@SEA editor