Friday, June 8, 2007

Cruise Log~June 8 :Water World

The compass.

One of the most valuable pieces of scientific equipment on board the Thompson.



Paul, the Chief Engineer (at control panel) gives a tour of the engine room.


The Thomas G. Thompson has two desalinating water makers and can make 8000 gallons of fresh water every day.

The control display for the ship's generator and engine #2.


The ship has 2- 3000 hp, 360 degree electric stern thrusters. There is also an 1100 hp bow thruster. The electricity for the engines is provided by three 1500 KW generators shown here. The ship can carry 248,000 gallons of fuel.


Juan de Fuca Strait (June 7, 2007): Sorry, due to technical difficulties this post has been a long time coming.

I have included pictures here from a tour of the engine room given by Paul, the Chief Engineer which some of the science group took. My great grandfather was an oiler and he died in a fire in the engine room of the steamer Mineola. I have a lot of respect for the engineering crew. The conditions are really harsh; it is hot and insanely noisy. And it seems that there are alarms going off all of the time signifying something that needs to be repaired. Almost every cruise that I have been on there is some member of the crew that I see for the first time after we have already been at sea for a week or so. Invariably, it is an engineer or an oiler. One of the oilers on this cruise that I saw quite often was Ricky because he would take a break out on the balcony of the 01 deck which was near my cabin and where I would often go at night after work to watch the sunset or look for whales. Ricky grew up in Alaska and lived in Ketchikan for a while.
Several readers have asked for more details about life on the Thomas G. Thompson. (You can email your own comments or questions to:mailto:kathleen.umaine@gmail.com)

Here is my typical routine. I wake up early in the morning, partly because I am still on east coast time, but mostly because early morning is one of the few times that I can take pictures, watch wildlife, lounge on the deck, etc. without being inconveniently interrupted by work. I usually eat breakfast at 7:30 am and the galley is on the same level as my cabin, through 2 doors and down the hall. One of the best things for me about a cruise is having someone else cook and wash the dishes. On land, my typical breakfast is 2 pieces of toast, so on the ship it is my favorite meal. After breakfast, I take a short commute down the ladder to the main deck where the labs are located and depending on what I am doing, I work in the main lab, the clean lab or out on the weather deck. Usually, I take a few minutes in the morning to make an espresso (or 2 depending on how well I slept the night before). If I don't have time to make espresso there is always coffee in the galley, 24 hours a day. Ships run on coffee and the coffee from the Thompson galley is better than on most ships I have sailed on.

Most days, I am able to take a break for lunch. On the days when I can’t, I can go to the galley fridge and find the leftovers which the galley crew leaves for those of us who have to work through lunch. The afternoon is the same. After dinner I prepare for the next day and enter and analyze data from the experiments. Most nights we are done by 9 or 10 pm, sometimes earlier. I often raid the fridge after work for snacks and drinks.

There are good things about being at sea: No cooking, no bills to pay (thanks to electronic bill paying I can usually arrange everything ahead of time), no news, no politics, no television, no phone, my commute to work is one flight of stairs, escape from the everyday routine, meeting and getting to know some really awesome people, a little bit of adventure (18-20’ seas, dodging flares, hiking in Ketchikan, for example), whales, sea bird watching, a sense of camaraderie and team work.

There are not so good things about being at sea: With the exception of a lucky few, when someone gets sick, we all get sick. Long work hours. No weekends. In bad weather, we can’t go outside and I get claustrophobic. When it is rough, we get thrown around and I am not the most graceful person. I always depart the ship with my arms covered in bruises.

Ships are really noisy: engine noise, fans from the air circulators, sonar pings, various ticks and rattles. In rough seas, ships boom and groan and shudder. This cruise I have an incredibly quiet cabin. Last cruise, my cabin was below deck next to the hull. Whenever we had any rough seas, it sounded like an enormous wooden mallet swung by the Jolly Green Giant was hitting the hull of the ship next to my bunk. It is really amazing how loud waves hitting the ship can be. We all yell at each other most of the time. I am always asking, "What did you say?".

There are 2 places that I found to be refuges from the noise. One is the bridge; the pinnacle of the ship world. From there you also have an awesome view. The other place is on the forward 02 deck in front of the ballast tank. The only sound there is the bow crashing through the waves and the ballast sloshing back and forth. It sounds like waves hitting a beach. If the sun is shining, I go out there and close my eyes and pretend….

I can understand why people speak of the ocean as a living thing because it is always changing. Sometimes quickly going from flat calm to boiling like a pot of water on a stove. Sometimes you can see a storm approaching from the horizon many miles away. At times the sea seems angry and harsh, sometimes tranquil and inviting. And every day brings new creatures; albatross, humpbacks, orcas, dolphins, porpoises, seals, sea lions, sunfish, sharks, you never know who will drop by for a visit. For me, the good aspects of working at sea for the most part outweigh the bad. Which is probably why, as much as I sometimes complain about it, I will always come back to sea one way or another.