Crustal Death and Rebirth in the Ring of Fire

It has been a while since my last entry. What has happened in the interim? Well, scientifically, quite a bit, and you can catch some highlights on the JOIDES Resolution facebook page.

As for the day-to-day business of living, I have to report that my goal of taking a picture of every sunrise has failed. Not so much in that I missed one, but in that the novelty of stunning open ocean sunrises has (predictably) diminished. And there was rain once. The core lab was briefly invaded by a shark (sadly not in a tornado), but he was easily defeated.

In lew of fending off fearsome fish, sunrise anticipation and photographic organization thereafter….and science…what else is there to pass the time? The JOIDES Resolution houses 113 residents: 50 Scientists and IODP Technical staff plus 48 personal responsible for operations and drilling and a catering crew of 15. It is these last 15 that have introduced one of their favorite pastimes: pocket pool.

Pool…on a ship? How does that work? A very good (if obvious) question. The crew has devised a one-of-a-kind ingenious ‘pool’ table. I can only describe “pocket pool” as a mixture of pool + air hockey + pinball. Every cruise this particular crew sails on has a pocket pool tournament…which I entered.

I am very glad I had a quick practice before my match.

It looks like pool. The rules are essential those of normal pool. A pool cue is used. That is, however, where the similarities end. The “balls” are smallish air-hockey style disks that grip the wooden (and admirably flat) table. The cue ball is a hockey-puck sized disk.

First and foremost pocket pool is fast. Too much weight on the shot and the pinball phenomenom fully takes over. Second, the pockets (only corners – no side pockets) are unforgiving. Perfect angles are required.

I played my best of 3 games in the first round of the tournament. I lost 2-0 against Glenn, the lead steward, but I think I conducted myself with some measure of dignity, even making a shot that resulted in surprised murmors of approval from veterans crew players (everyone has a bit of dumb luck). And all this after my 12 hour shift. A decent accomplishment.

A final special mention for my shipmate Claire, a paleomagnetist with whom I have sailed before. She provided a chocolate treat every time I sunk a…disk. However, I certainly was not full after the match so my training must continue. I wonder if she will yield similar treats for my well-honed skills of ‘sit’ and ‘speak’. I have 5 weeks left to convince her.

22 August 2014.

 [Many thanks to Marie Python for permission to use her action photos]

Read Where Cue Balls are Flat in full

Entry Three: Death by Nomenclature

Quick: tell me what the difference is between a diktytaxitic and hyalopilitic texture? No? Nesophitic vs. Intersertal? ….perhaps? Cumulate vs. Adcumulate? Ok – that was an easy one….

Let me back-up and preface this entry with my admittedly flimsy excuses. I had great undergraduate petrology classes – I remember these terms, I remember doing astonishingly well in my optical (thin sections of rocks) and petrology (just the rocks) classes. However, I realize that I actually am…..further on in my career and have taken a dark path into more geochemical realms.

Why am I bothering you with these terms? Well, in preparation for receiving rocks, the petrology group (rock-studiers for the un-initiated) have been compiling lists of terms that may be needed to describe recovered lavas. The idea behind this exercise is sound. We need to document as accurately and as completely as possible everything that is recovered. Sadly, this has necessitated some hard-core textural revision for this card-carrying isotope geochemist (those that study rock powders with little knowledge of what the rocks actually looked like, and are prone to grandiose statements of petrogenesis [how the rock formed] based on a few, somewhat obscure elemental isotope ratios….see my publication list).

However, I am happy to report that the petrologic shock is quickly wearing off and I am rediscovering the simple joy of rock examination. Funny – I do seem to recall that was the reason I became a geologist in the first place. Even more fortuitous is the great team of (proper) petrologists onboard who have tolerated my presence thus far (i.e. 2 weeks out of 8). Perhaps, with their help, I may even re-gain my petrologic form of youth.

Finally, just because the sunrise shift has the best sky shots – feast your eyes on yet another spectacular daybreak.

11^th August 2014

 

Read Death by Nomenclature in full

Entry Two: It’s all about timing

 Over the past few days,  my thoughts have been consumed with the perception of time.

But first things first. Many must be waiting with baited breath after my last informative portrayal of Japanese toilets…. so I have included a picture of their counterparts on the JR. A single button. No room for ambiguity. One every day life challenge is averted.

We boarded the JR on the 31st of July and departed Yokohama on the 4th of August. (see obligatory Yokohama bridge photo). Our JR-based port call seemed somewhat unending. When we were finally ready to depart many (including myself) felt as though we had been together for months! Do not misunderstand – this is not a negative feeling, just a surreal one.

The scientists and technical staff have got to know each other better during our 7 month (read: 4 day) JR-based port call in Yokohama. The first few days consisted of meetings, then a few more meetings, then some training, then meetings, and after that, just for a change, a few more meetings. In all seriousness, there is a vast amount of information to assimilate before we get onsite. Having been on this ride once before, I am feeling fairly confident about what I need to do, however memories of the heady mix of confusion/excitement of the first time round surface from time to time.

Walking the corridors of the JR, I feel as if I was here only months ago, not the 5 years it has actually been since my last IODP expedition. We are only mere days into Expedition 352 and already my ‘regular’ life seems a bit fuzzy, out-of-focus – as if it belongs to someone else. Again, not a negative thing. In fact, total immersion is one of the aspects of sailing IODP that I find very attractive. It is a rare environment that brings together scientists from disparate disciplines and unites them in a single set of aims. The combination of shared goals and removal of distractions creates the most exciting scientific environment I have ever encountered.

We are entering the work-horse phase. The meat of the sandwich. Up to this point, we have all been sleeping at (more or less) the same times. Yesterday/today/tonight (what day is it again?) is when we begin to ‘get on shift’. All scientists work 12 hour shifts every single day of our 55 days at sea. The ‘day’ shift runs 12pm-12am and the ‘night’ shift runs 12am-12pm. Certainly more appropriate terms would be ‘sunrise’ and ‘sunset’ shifts, but who I am to fly in the face of tradition. I am part of the sunrise shift (it’s my blog, I’ll call it what I want). My task – as I write this – is to stay awake for the next 12 hours. I was fortunate enough to be very ‘tired’ after our last night festivities in Yokohama and was, miraculously, able to sleep a straight 7 hours from 1pm-8pm yesterday (today??). I include photographic evidence of some measure of my success: the first sunrise of Expedition 352 taken around 4:50am.

What else is on our minds? Typhoons. Check out the JR website and our educator, Beth Christiansen’s blog for more information about some potentially troublesome beasts (joidesresolution.org). Our estimated time to our first drill site is about 28 hours at the time of writing. Core some 10-12 hours after that.

Finally, please do ask any questions you like in the comments section. I welcome all types and will certainly find the ‘time’ to answer them!

August 5th 2014

Read Timing in full