Test Conduct

Professionalism

On my first cruise as a graduate student two separate incidents occurred which have taught me a lot about professionalism. In the first, I was aware going on to the ship that graduate students were not typically held in the highest esteem by the crew. Because of this I went out of my way to make friends with a few of the crew members. I got to know one crew member, who was actually a few years younger than I was, reasonably well. (I worked for a few years before going on to graduate school.) On one early morning shift, when everyone else was asleep, we were sending the CTD (Conductivity - Temperature - Depth probe) down to the bottom - an operation that took at least 30 minutes. I was on watch at the CTD station and my friend on the crew was operating the winch. I was bored so I walked out the door to the winch station to say hello. My friend just kept his eyes on the cable being paid out and told me that he was busy. That was ridiculous, I replied, it will take at least another twenty minutes for the CTD to reach the bottom. Even so, I just wanted to chat. Again the crew member told me he was busy, and rather brusquely suggested I return to my station. I left quietly, but I was offended by his abruptness. I thought we were friends.

It took me a few days to understand that he was doing his job and that my interrupting him was wrong. If there had been some problem with the cable while the winch was paying out, then he was expected to respond immediately. A failure to respond to a problem quickly could have cost the expedition the use of the CTD or winch and would have definitely cost my friend his job. Ignoring me, and even being rude to me as he did, was in fact the height of professionalism.

The moral of this story was struck home several years ago when I had the privilege of working on a Russian research vessel. This ship was one of the finest research vessels that I have ever worked on, and working with the crew and scientists was a joy. The Russians, though, had a different view about winch operations than we in the U. S. Here, we have winch operators, like my friend from years before, and the scientists are not allowed to touch the winch. On our Russian R/V the instruments were thought to be so valuable that only scientists were allowed to run the winches. Personally I think this is a mistake. While the typical scientist's brain may be the size of a small planet, their attention span when performing a boring, mechanical operation is more typically that of a small rabbit. After all, there are a million things more interesting to think about than running a winch.

Sure enough, during our cruise, one of the scientists actually left the winch while the CTD was being brought up to the surface. One of his colleagues had asked him a question, which I am certain was very interesting, and he walked away from the winch to answer. By the time he got back to the winch, the CTD had come out of the water, arisen to the pulley on the swing-out arm, broken the cable, and fallen back into the sea. He and his research group were devastated. A few minutes after the incident, and after a good chewing out by the captain, he told me that his career was over. He explained that normally he would be expected to pay for the lost equipment, but the cost of the lost equipment, an amount that I guessed to exceed $40,000, was more than he would make in his lifetime. Despite his trepidations, the story had a good ending. The third mate had the common sense to mark the position of the accident and at the end of the experiment we were able to recover the CTD in 80 m of water using a specialized echo sounder and remotely operated vehicle that were brought on board for this purpose. In the mean time we used a backup sensor that I had brought on board just in case it was needed.

In stark contrast to the professionalism that my crew-member friend from my first cruise exhibited, I pulled one of the stupidest stunts of all times later on that same cruise. It is not something of which I am proud. And though I got away with my recklessness, I thought I'd share the story as an example of non-professionalism to the n- th degree.

After a week at sea, everyone begins to get tired and worn down, especially the people new to at-sea work. (You can hear my excuses already.) In any case, it was 3 am one night late into the cruise and I was terribly bored. I was at the CTD station monitoring the descent of the CTD. The CTD had a pinger on it that periodically produced an acoustic pulse. This pulse traveled up to the ship, where it was recorded on the echo sounder. At nearly the same time, some portion of the pulse also traveled a second path down to the bottom where it was reflected back up to the ship. The difference between the arrival times of the direct and reflected pulses told us how high the CTD was off the bottom. The echo sounder included a thermal-imaging printer, on which all of this was recorded, showing pulse times vertically on the page as the paper slowly advanced through the mechanism. The direct and reflected pulses from the CTD being lowered towards the bottom showed up as two sloped lines on the echosounder closing toward an intersection.

The typical procedure was to run the winch at full speed until the two lines on the echo sounder indicated a height above the bottom of 100 m or so. Then the winch operator was to be instructed to slow the winch for the final approach. The CTD was then stopped when it approached within 25 m or so of the bottom. The pattern that this would make on the echo sounder was a pair of lines progressing towards an intersection at a sharp angle, and then the lines became less steep as the winch was slowed until they nearly touched and the winch was stopped. Finally the lines would run parallel to each other until the first Nisken bottle sample was taken and the winch was reversed for its return trip.

After doing this several dozen times, the operation had become second nature. I even had come to know the response times of the various winch operators on the ship, with some being faster than others. I had the whole operation calibrated, as you might calibrate a video game that you had played dozens of times. And on this dark and stupid night I decided to see how good I was at this game. I decided to let the CTD go to the bottom at full speed. I watched as the lines on the echo sounder screamed towards each other at an obscene angle. Then just before disaster struck at the bottom, I yelled over the intercom to stop the winch. I had timed it perfectly and the two traces on the echo sounder were separated by the width of the trace lines. I suspect that the instrument kicked up a little mud when it halted. In any case, I popped the first bottle and instructed the winch operator to start bringing the instrument back to the surface.

Being very proud of my "accomplishment" I further compounded my folly by ripping off the paper from the echo sounder with my trace and posting it on the wall of the CTD lab. I added a note suggesting that the 4 to 8 shift was, shall we say, superior to the other shifts, challenging anyone to beat my trace. Stupid is as stupid does. The following two shifts actually made some anemic attempts at this high-priced game of chicken. The game was finally put to an end when the chief scientist awoke from a long deserved sleep to discover the mischief I had started. I got the strongest possible reprimand from the chief scientist, and rightfully so. Now, looking back at my misadventure, I realize that if I were in his place I would have thrown me overboard. This was, after all, over $60K worth of instrumentation whose loss would have ended the experiment. Ah, the stupidity of youth. The moral here is to not try this at home, or anywhere else.

The Chain of Command

In these situations I argue my views strenuously, give the chief scientist the wisdom of my counsel, and try to help out as much as possible. None-the-less, when a decision is made, even when it goes against my interests, I have to abide by it. The only exception is on safety issues on which I will not bend.

Who's Who in the Crew

• Captain or Master - The captain's foremost responsibility is for the lives and safety of all those on board his vessel. He is also responsible for the seaworthiness of his vessel and the protection of the interests of the operating institution. These are not responsibilities that are taken lightly. Failure to fulfill his duties can and often does result in a loss of the captain's license, fines to the captain and his institution, as well as other penalties. Just remember that he is the boss, the head honcho, the big cheese, the top dog,... Well, you get the idea.
• Deck Officers - The deck officers consist of the chief or first mate, followed in seniority by the second and third mates. The chief mate reports directly to the captain. The deck officers, who stand watches on the bridge, actually navigate and operate the ship. The acting deck officer must be notified before anything goes over the side of a ship or anyone goes aloft. Any course changes need to be coordinated with the deck officer. In case of difficulty, the deck officer is responsible for summoning the captain to the bridge.
• Engineering Officers - The engineering officers consist of the chief engineer, who reports directly to the captain, and a group of engineering watch officers. The chief engineer is responsible for the operation of the ship's engines and other machinery, ship's maintenance, and the work of those in the engineering department. The engineering officers stand watches, just like the deck officers, maintaining and operating the ship's equipment.
• Other crew that report directly to the captain may include the radio operator (larger vessels only), the medical officer (also larger vessels only), and the steward. The steward is responsible for the operations of the galley crew, which may include the senior cook, the second cook and one or more messman. The steward is also responsible for providing bed linen and laundry and cleaning supplies.
• Bos'n - The Bos'n, who reports to the deck officers, is directly in charge of the seamen who work on the deck crew. He is your main man when it comes to actually performing deck or over-the-side operations. When there are no deck operations, the seaman will be kept busy performing required work on the vessel, standing watches at the helm, and keeping lookout while underway. Some ships also have a day man who does not stand watch but keeps up with general ship maintenance with the assistance of the seaman.
• The remainder of the crew in the engineering department consists of the oilers and wipers who work on the ship's engines and machinery, the deck engineer who is responsible for the deck equipment, and the electrician who is responsible for the ship's electrical systems. On many ships there is also an ET, or electronics technician, who is responsible for the maintenance of the ship's electronics, including radars, navigation and computer systems.

This is quite a list, but keep in mind that while these positions are typical for larger vessels, responsibilities are combined as the crew shrinks. For example, on the Minnow, there was only the captain (The Skipper) and a chief mate (Gilligan). Of course I hope your cruises goes better than theirs did.

So with these responsibilities in mind, it is easy to determine who you need to talk to on any given problem. For example:

Now that I've given you the official version of the ship's hierarchy, let me finish this section with other versions, which though unofficial, are often closer to reality. Officially the hierarchy on board ship goes: captain, chief mate, chief engineer, deck officers, deck engineers, steward, bos'n, etc. As far as ship's morale goes, the real hierarchy is much simpler: the cook, followed distantly by everyone else. For this reason, if none other, you should be nice to the cook. Of course you don't want to get carried away with this as I once did.

I was performing an experiment in Norway, when a Norwegian submarine surfaced in the area. Informal arrangements had been made to provide the sub with newspapers and mail. I had always wanted to see a sub, so I begged a ride on the small boat that was sent over for a rendezvous. As we approached I yelled out an introduction to the young man standing on the deck. I told him I didn't want to be a bother, but asked if I could get a short tour. He agreed and I climbed aboard. I asked if he wanted to check with the captain first, as he didn't appear to be old enough to be more than a lowly lieutenant. He said that this wasn't necessary and we proceeded down the hatch into the sub. He started the tour foreward, in the living quarters, where the bunks lined the narrow aisle from floor to ceiling. We proceeded aft stopping at the galley, which took up little more than a square meter of floor space in a small alcove. Upon my introduction to the cook, I jokingly commented, "I'm glad to meet the most important man on the vessel!" The cook smiled, but the young officer muttered, "Well some people think so," and proceeded down the corridor. Just aft of the conning tower there was a small room with but a single bunk. It was clearly the captain's room as it was the only private space in the entire sub. The young officer just about floored me when he pointed into the room and said, "And this is my room." I was so embarrassed. Yet again I had put my foot into my mouth - this time because I couldn't read rank in the Norwegian navy and because I was trying to show off for the cook!

In some circumstances, the hierarchy of importance on a research vessel may shift to the following structure: bos'n, deck hands, deck officer, and everyone else. In particular, when you need to put something overboard into the water or recover something from the water, this is the hierarchy you need to be concerned with. Not that you should slight the deck officer, who is nominally in command of the operation, but typically the bos'n will be the person actually running the deployment or recovery.

This may sound more complicated than it is. If you just keep in mind that the responsibilities on the vessel are split, then you'll do just fine. And when in doubt, just ask any crew member.

The Cruise Log

Providing answers to such questions that may arise long after the test is over is made complicated by the nature of at-sea work. The physical difficulty of the undertaking combines with the mundaneness of day-in, day-out operations to make it impossible to remember everything necessary to insure success in the post-test analysis.

The solution is simple: you should keep a detailed cruise log, recording everything possible about your instruments, the cruise and the environment that you are operating in. The key is to make this log as complete as possible. You will never have a problem from taking down to much information on a cruise, but the cost of missing some seemingly minor, and yet irretrievable, fact can be costly. Your log should provide an overview of the entire experiment, as well as your place in the experiment. It should include sufficient detail to describe the environment in which you operated. It should include all measurements, calibrations and observations that you make during the cruise.

I can usually tell how long someone has been doing field work by taking a look at the level of detail and completeness of their log books. When I first began going to sea my log entries were terse and incomplete. Now I try to write down everything. For example, I regularly include periodic meteorological descriptions including wind speed and direction, air temperature and humidity, and sea state estimates in my log. These provide some context for the measurements made during a particular period and the frequency of written notes provides an overview of how quickly conditions change. I write these things down even though more precise and regular measurements of these parameters, made by finely calibrated instruments, are being recorded onto digital media. I find the written overview a helpful adjunct to the subsequent environmental parameter plots that result from the data recordings. Furthermore, my written notes are the ultimate backup to catastrophic instrument failure. I have been on cruises where a data acquisition system failure leaves written notes as the only alternative for some forms of post-test analysis.

Menard, in his book, had this to say about standing watch and keeping cruise logs:

Several new members of the scientific party had never been to sea before, and we began instruction on how to stand a scientific watch. In general this involves learning how to use and not misuse a variety of instruments, how to communicate with the ship's officers on the bridge, and to sense difficulties in time to prevent them from developing. One must learn the speeds and operating conditions to pay out instruments behind the ship and haul them in. Most important, the watch stander has to keep accurate, detailed, legible records of what is happening: the depth, the intensity of the magnetic field, the water temperature, position of the ship, direction and speed of travel, wind speed and direction, and so on. Not all of these are necessary on every cruise, but they are typical of the diverse responsibilities of a scientific watch stander.

Elsewhere Menard relates that their cruise log accumulated an average of one line of notes per minute of operation for the entire duration of a four-month cruise!

The details of log keeping are a matter of personal taste. When I am not acting as chief scientist I will keep a single personal cruise log containing my summary of the cruise and my instrumentation systems. I'll also try to record as much information as possible about my colleague's systems. On more than one occasion I have ended up with the only record of some fact important to a colleague's success. In these cases the small effort in writing down the data is richly rewarded by the goodwill generated from helping a colleague.

On those cruises where I am chief scientist and I also have responsibility for one or more instruments, I usually maintain two log books: one cruise log on the bridge and one instrument log back in the lab. The cruise log is shared with those other scientists that take over my responsibilities when I am off the bridge. In either case, I use a bound, ruled notebook for keeping the log. In this way I insure that the log is kept together and no pages are lost. I also maintain a separate set of three ring binders for keeping all of the on-board data analyses that are produced during the cruise.

Using pen and paper may sound a bit old fashioned in this day of the notebook computer, but I find it easier to initially record my logs onto paper. Computers are superior for recording straight text, but recording sketches, schematics and other graphic elements is far easier on paper. It is also easier to perform complex formatting of your notes, including the creation of tables, on paper than it is on a computer.

In this case, though, I am not being a modern day Luddite. Partially in recognition of the superiority of computer distribution of data, including cruise logs, I try to make the effort to transfer my log notes to the computer on a daily basis. While this takes extra time, it does allow me to review my notes with care and to fill in any gaps in the narrative while the day's events are still fresh in my mind. Finally, my handwriting is so bad that if I didn't transfer my logs to the computer, then no one could read them, including myself! This practice also gives me a huge advantage at the end of the cruise when it comes time to produce a ship cruise report. If I have managed to keep up with my transcription to the computer, the cruise report is essentially done when I walk off the ship.

Keeping to Schedule

Communications with the chief scientist is critical in keeping up with the evolution of the cruise. While I recommend that the chief scientist constantly promulgate (there's that word again!) status and planning information to the scientific party and crew, it is truly the responsibility of the individual scientist to know what is going on at all times. If the chief scientist is not forthcoming with status information, then seek them out to get the information you need to do your job. Don't allow a chief scientist who is wrapped up in his or her own work to prevent you from getting the most out of your cruise.

You should always keep your instruments as prepared as possible. For example, if you are working with Nisken bottle sampling, you should prepare the system for use immediately after obtaining the samples from the previous cast. In this way you will have maximized the time available to fix any problem that you may discover during the instrument preparation. This will also help insure the readiness of your instrument should a sudden, and possibly rare, data opportunity occur. Simply put, don't put things off on a cruise.

Finally, on many cruises you will be working in shifts with other scientists. A typical cruise schedule might be 12 hours on and 12 hours off. I have also been on cruises where there were three watches, each working 4 hours on and 8 hours off. At the end of your shift you will find it incredibly annoying when your replacement is late. The point is that others will feel the same when you are late, so be on time. While regularly being five minutes late may be thought of as a minor idiosyncrasy on land, that same behavior on board a several week cruise will be treated by your colleagues as a serious offense. In fact, you should arrive a few minutes early for each shift to provide some time for the person you are relieving to communicate to you the current status and any special instructions necessary to perform your watch duties.

Know Your Limits

Humans require a certain amount of sleep in order to function and survive. People's average daily requirements vary widely and depend on a number of variables including physical and mental stress. Sleep deprivation can be a wonderful and weird experience on land, but you shouldn't try it at sea. As you become more tired, your response times increase, your mental acuity decreases and you start making more mistakes. I have found that it is time to sleep when I begin to make mistakes or have difficulty thinking. When time is critical, even a few hours can act to revitalize your senses and actually speed the process of fixing the problem.

You'll have to use your own judgment in each situation. I caution though that many people misgauge how tired they are. Don't let sleep deprivation get the best of you.

Decision Making

Gathering Opinions

The only time that I will substitute one of my colleague's judgement for my own, is when that colleague is more expert in a given area than I. Even then I will ultimately maintain the responsibility for those decisions. While I think everyone should be afraid of failure, no one should be afraid of blame. Fear of blame and recriminations keep people from working at their best.

Assessing Blame when Things Go Wrong

There is a wonderful story illustrating that I am not the only person that thinks this way. Years ago, JHU/APL was running a spin test on a navigation satellite just prior to delivery of that satellite for launch. The satellite was suspended from the ceiling of a building at the lab, when a cable broke and the entire satellite crashed to the floor, sending small pieces flying in all directions. After the countless hours that had been put into building the satellite, everyone present was devastated. Evidently there was no small amount of finger pointing and arguments about who was to blame for the mishap. The director of the lab was notified and immediately rushed to the scene. When he heard the commotion about who was to blame, he commanded silence. He told everyone in the room that he wasn't at all interested in who was responsible. His only interest was in fixing the damage and readying the satellite for flight. At that, he bent down and started picking up pieces off the floor. Everyone chipped in, the squabbling stopped, and the satellite was actually repaired and delivered for a successful launch and flight several weeks later. As I said, this is a wonderful story that has been told around our lab. The only problem with this story is that, as far as I can determine, it never really happened. Still, the story is so good I thought I'd share it with you anyway.

Be Decisive

Imaginative Solutions

The Big Picture

As part of this experiment a large number of sensors were connected to a single data acquisition system. This system had 128 identical inputs, all of which accepted the same voltage range, and all of which were sampled at the same rate. The signals from the sensors had thus all been adjusted to match the range expected by the data acquisition system. The outputs of this system were recorded locally on a hard disk by the Norwegians and telemetered back to shore for recording by the American group.

Several days of operations were conducted before enough data were analyzed to indicate that a number of wiring errors had been made. Apparently the technicians that had connected the sensors to the system had made some mistakes and so a number of the channels had been connected to the wrong inputs. The result of this error was that the data files were organized in a rather odd way. Upon discovery of this error, one of the young American engineers argued strenuously that the Norwegians should go out to the remote data acquisition system and correct the wiring. The Norwegians refused. After a couple of days of discussion on the point, the engineer gave up trying to convince the Norwegians and proceeded to correct the channel wiring errors in his recording software.

So the question is, who was right? After the wiring error was made and data were taken for several days, would you have rewired the system, or would you have left it alone? It has been my experience that your answer will depend on how much experience you have had. When faced with a nearly identical problem early in my observational career, I chose to rewire the sensors part way through the experiment. I clearly recall thinking at the time that this was the correct thing to do. After all, I was acting to correct a deviation of the operation from the plan.

It was only later, when I began analyzing the data, that I understood that I had made a mistake. From the beginning of the analysis to the end, the change in the data file formats haunted me. I was always going back and checking the details of the change. I was always writing special code into my analysis programs to deal with the change. One set of routines would process data prior to the change, another dealt with the data after the change. The entire affair was a royal pain.

Now, years later, I know that the Norwegians were right and the young American engineer wrong. I am now analyzing some small portions of these data sets. I received some data from the young American and already have wasted time because he provided me with a pre-change data set but post-change documentation.

For the record, here are the rules I have learned for dealing with this type of situation. If a mistake is made in the field that affects the quality of the data, then you must endeavor to make whatever changes necessary to get the best quality data. If, on the other hand, a mistake leads to changes in the data which do not affect quality, such as a restructuring of the data files, then it is best to do nothing more than record the new structure in your cruise log. Consistency is very important in the analysis of data. Any changes which affect the data in some time varying way, such as file restructuring of half of the records or the application of time varying calibrations, should be taken care of once at the very beginning of the analysis phase. I typically will apply these changes once to the raw data files, producing a second set of corrected data, which are then used as the basis for all subsequent data analysis. (I'll emphasize here that you should never do anything to change the raw data files directly, you may need them later. The output of your programs should be to new data files, or you should only work on copies of the raw data.)

Communications

My colleague Dave Porter tells a story of a cruise he went on a number of years ago. Evidently the crew was quite unfriendly from the beginning of this cruise. Concerned about morale, Dave asked what the problem was, only to hear a story about the scientists on the previous cruise. It seems the previous cruise was doing acoustic work, periodically setting off small 0.5 kg explosive devices, called SUS charges, as underwater sound sources. These devices are designed with two pins: if the nose pin is pulled the charge goes off at 60 m depth, but if the tail pin is pulled the charge goes off at 300 m depth. Evidently, one morning at 2 AM, whether by accident or on purpose no one was sure, a SUS charge was deployed that went off at 60 m. While the crew was accustomed to the mild thud of the deeper explosions, the near-surface explosion was much louder than normal and woke everyone on board the vessel. This alone would have been but a minor annoyance but for the communication breakdown that immediately followed.

The officer of the watch, hearing the explosion, telephoned to the science lab near the aft deck and inquired as to what had happened. He should have been told that the scientists didn't know, but would check into the matter and report back immediately. Instead, the scientist who answered gave the rather short reply that it sounded like an explosion on the aft deck. With this information the officer of the watch had no choice but to sound general quarters, mustering all hands. Relations were never quite the same after that mistake, and the crew's unhappiness even spilled over into Dave's cruise. The moral of this story is to be certain of your facts and clear in your communications whenever possible.

Your Job At Sea

That conversation took place over 20 years ago, but to this day, when someone asks me what I do for a living, this is the phrase that pops into my mind. I'll admit that I usually tell them I'm an oceanographer, but in reality I do whatever needs to be done. And as it is within our lab, so it is at sea. Your job at sea is to come back with the data, and you'll be expected to do everything that is safe and prudent to achieve that goal.

You may have noticed that I didn't limit the above statement to "your data". Instead I said "the data", meaning all of the data that is necessary to meet the scientific goals of the cruise. While your first responsibility is to your systems, after they are working, you should see if you can help out someone else. Even as chief scientist I like to help out with deployment operations, or chip in to help solve engineering or software problems where I can. Helping out others at sea is a good habit to develop. There are just two cautions. First, be sure that it does not distract from your own responsibilities. And two, don't be a pest or get in the way. It is quite easy to get too many people involved with a deck operation or repair effort. My rule of thumb is to offer help once. If the answer is no, then I get out of the way and let the others do the work. On deck operations I prefer to be out of the way but nearby so that I can help if necessary.

The At-Sea Classroom

The first order of business should be training those new to life at sea in safety and ship etiquette. While much of this book is devoted to these topics, this training at sea will necessarily be an ongoing venture as there is a lot to learn. The second set of topics should be the operation and use of equipment, the techniques of standing watches, and the keeping of the cruise log. These topics represent the minimum knowledge necessary to operate at sea.

Unfortunately, too many scientists stop here, and proceed no further. Instead, I suggest that the entire cruise should be viewed as an at-sea classroom. Your top priority should be a set of seminars on the scientific issues associated with the measurements being made on the cruise. It would also be a good idea to have a willing member of the crew teach students basic seamanship, including navigation, knots, crane hand signals, and the like. Finally, I think it a good idea to try to teach students how to conduct an oceanographic experiment. Here are the words of Menard on the subject:

A few days earlier it had occurred to me that our teaching program on the expedition was flawed. We were teaching the students how to survey submarine topography, stand scientific watches, take cores and dredge, measure heat flow, and live on an oceanographic expedition. What we were not doing was teaching anybody how to manage expedition operations. In fact we had never taught anybody how to run an expedition since our general procedure was evolved in the early 1950s. Some people had a knack for it and ran expeditions and some didn't. Usually a student was chief scientist only when he was lucky enough to be working with a small group of fellow students and friends on his own thesis problem. No one ever ran a ship with a teacher watching the operations. A "chief scientist of the day" was forthwith appointed for the next three days and three students were successively in charge of operations. It seemed to work very well.

...Each of the students made mistakes but they were of such a nature as to reveal that no other method of teaching would work.

When thinking about an at-sea training program, remember that hands-on experience offers unique opportunities for learning that cannot be duplicated on land. Even the most trivial events at sea offer the opportunity for learning. I recall an incident on the first cruise that I was ever on. We had just brought a rosette back on board from a cast to the bottom of the Carribean. It was a warm, sunny day and I was out on the deck in shorts and flip-flops. (I know this wasn't particularly bright, but I was new to working at sea.) A post-doc had been asked to show me how to take the water samples from the Nisken bottles and to prepare the rossette for its next cast. After taking the samples, we had to empty the remaining water and re-arm the bottles. The post-doc, smiling, instructed me to grab the bottom cover on bottle number one, the deepest sample, and pull to release the water. I did as instructed and several liters of frigid bottom water poured onto the deck and my feet. I let out a scream and jumped several meters. "Damn that's cold," I shouted. The post-doc laughed, and put his arm around my shoulder. "What year of graduate school are you in?" he asked. "Second" I replied. "And how cold is the water at the bottom of the ocean," he continued. "A few degrees ," was my response. "Well that is what a few degrees feels like," he replied. While it is a trivial example, intellectually I knew how cold bottom water is, but I never really understood until that warm Carribean day. Opportunities for this kind of learning abound. Whether you are the instructor or the student, don't let them pass by.

Seasickness

There are at least two ways to avoid seasickness. The first is to choose your chromosomes wisely. Some people never get sick. If this is not an option for you, then I suggest that you take drugs. I favor Transderm Scop, a behind the ear scopolamine patch that works wonders on me.

Still, there are a variety of other choices. While I am not a medical doctor, and I don't play one on TV, I have prepared a list of available motion sickness drugs for your perusal. I caution that I am not recommending any of these drugs. The list is provided for your guidance only, and I strongly recommend that you see your physician before taking any medication. Just three of these medications are available over-the-counter: Dramamine, Marazine, and Benadryl.

There are several important points to note regarding these drugs:

• Note that virtually all of these drugs list drowsiness as an adverse side effect. Individual reactions can vary widely, so I suggest you try a new drug on shore, before going to sea, to determine how your system will react.
• The list distinguishes between drugs that act to prevent nausea and those that treat nausea. Those that prevent nausea must be taken prior to going to sea. Such drugs will not aid you once you are afflicted.

Motion Sickness Drugs

• Buclizine Hydrochloride (Bucladin)

  50 mg tablets. Acts centrally to suppress nausea, vomiting, and dizziness associated with motion sickness. Contraindicated for use in early pregnancy. Adverse reactions: occaisionally drowsiness, dryness of mouth, headache, jitters. Adult dosage: One tablet 1/2 hour before trip. One tablet twice per day.

• Cyclizine Hydrochloride (Marezin)

  50 mg tablets, available without prescription. Antiemetic acts to suppress nausea, vomiting, and dizziness associated with motion sickness. Contraindicated for use by those with asthma, glaucome, emphysema or chronic pulmonary disease. Adverse reactions: drowsiness. Adult dosage: One tablet 1/2 hour before trip. One tablet every 6 hours.

• Dexchlorpheniramine Maleate (Polaramine)

  2, 4 or 6 mg tablets. Antihistamine with unlabeled use in the treatment of nausea and vomiting due to motion sickness. Dosage should be adjusted to patient, but do not overdose. Contraindicated in those sensitive to antihistamines, those taking monoamine oxidase inhibitors or oral anticoagulates. Don't use in conjunction with alcohol. Adverse reactions: slight to moderate drowsiness, as well as a range of less likely reactions to antihistamines. Adult dosage: One tablet every 4 to 6 hours.

• Dimenhydrinate (Dimetabs, Dramamine)

  Available without prescription. Acts to prevent and treat the nausea and vertigo associated with motion sickness. Adverse reactions: drowsiness Adult dosage: 50 mg every 4 hours, 100 mg every 4 hours if drowsiness is acceptable, not more than 400 mg per day.

• Diphenhydramine Hydrochloride (Benadryl)

  25 mg tablets, available without prescription. Antihistamine for prevention and treatment of motion sickness. Contradindicated in newborns, nursing mothers, those with sensitivity to antihistamines or narrow-angle glaucoma, or those taking monoamine oxidase inhibitors. Adverse reactions: drowsiness, dizziness. Adult dosage: 25 mg, 3 to 4 times daily, 50 mg sleep dosage.

• Meclizine Hydrochloride (Antivert)

  Antihistamine which does better job of preventing, than treating, motion sickness. Contradindicated in those with sensitivity to antihistamines. Don't use in conjunction with alcohol. Adverse reactions: possible drowsiness, dry mouth. Adult dosage: 25 to 50 mg one hour before trip, same dose once daily.

• Promethazine Hydrochloride (Phenergan)

  Suppositories, Tablets, Syrup. Antihistamine which relieves effects of motion sickness. Adverse reactions: drowsiness, dry mouth. Adult dosage: 25 mg 1/2 hour before trip, same dose twice daily with meals.

• Pyridostigmine Bromide (Mestinon)

  use to control effects of motion sickness. Contraindicated in patients with urinary or intestinal obstructions or bronchial asthma. Adult dosage: Must be individually set.

• Transdermal Scopolamine

  0.5 mg/day for 3 days from behind ear patch. Prevents, but does not treat, nausea from motion sickness, significantly more effective than Dramamine. Contraindicated for those with glaucoma. Adverse reactions: dry mouth, drowsiness, disorientation. Adult dosage: Apply one patch behind ear at least 4 hours prior to trip. Change patch every three days. Discard old patches and thoroughly wash hands after handling patches. Avoid contact of Scopolamine with the eye.

Offload

There is a better way. Just come prepared for the offload and take your time in packing your equipment and left over supplies, so that they don't have to be unpacked at the lab just to be put back into storage. A bit of care and organization up front takes little extra time, but can save you hours of work down the road.

First, you should go prepared to pack as much as you can on ship. Much of our instrumentation is turned off on the return cruise so packing can be conveniently done on ship. This requires that you take along boxes and shipping crates for the equipment. These can often be carried in holds below deck. You should check with the captain and crew about this possibility well before sailing.

The next task should be to use fresh water to clean off any oceanographic equipment that has been deployed, and any other equipment that has been exposed to the weather. After cleaning, the equipment should be dried and then boxed. This will not only reduce the effects of salt corrosion but will also go a long way towards eliminating that low-tide smell that can end up permeating your lab back home.

Even without boxes and crates, there is a lot you can do to speed up the packing once you get back into port. Remove and neatly coil cable that has been strung about the ship. Neat coils are a lot easier to handle and pack than a tangle of knots. Another trick is to use large zip lock bags to keep small pieces together with the system to which they belong. For example, when we dismantle a buoy, all of the hardware removed from that buoy goes into a set of zip lock bags that are then kept with the major buoy components. Likewise I bag all cables, along with the mouse, that go with a particular computer. This allows me to easily reassemble that computer system when we get back to the lab. It also helps to cut down on the hours spent looking for missing components.

If boxes are available, then they should be filled and kept on deck. Boxes kept on deck are subject to salt spray and weathering, so I usually will try to keep any filled boxes covered with a thick plastic tarp that is securely fastened. This is a good precaution even of the shipping boxes are supposed to be waterproof.

Last, but not least, data should be packed in separate labeled boxes. I like to ship one set back to the lab, while I hand carry the backup set. This provides protection for the data in the unlikely event of a shipping accident.

The bottom line is to plan ahead. You know that you'll have to get your equipment back to your home institution after the cruise, so there is no excuse for not being prepared. Try to be neat and methodical in your packing. And be doubly careful about transporting your data home.

Nautical Terminology

Never call a sea-going vessel a boat. Always use the term ship. If you forget this simple rule and call your vessel a boat, someone from the crew will invariably tell you that a boat is something that can be lifted onto a ship. While you are on the ship though you are likely to hear the crew refer to the vessel as a boat. Resist the urge to correct them as the crew may later have total control of a crane that is holding the instrument on which your scientific career rests. My best guess is that this is a grand conspiracy by the crews of oceanographic vessels all over the world to confuse scientists. And my advice is to just play along.

Learn the terms port (left) and starboard (right) so that you know them backwards and forwards. If you are not 100% certain of the terminology, just use left and right. Only the ship/boat thing will rile a sailor up more than someone confusing port and starboard.

If you are dealing with any instrumentation that measures currents or winds, then you absolutely, positively must know the difference between heading and course. Heading is the direction the ship is pointing. Course is the direction that the ship is traveling. These need not be the same. For example, when a ship is drifting, it drifts in the same direction as the wind (assuming no current), but it usually aligns itself broadside to the wind. Thus the course would be in the wind direction but the heading would differ by 90°. The difference between course and heading, which is referred to as the crab angle, generally grows as a vessel slows down.

Knots

Test Conduct Checklist

• Always act professionally, safety comes first, then the job
• Respect the chain of command
• Maintain a detailed cruise log
• Keep to schedule on all tasks
• Keep communicating with the other scientists
• Respect your limits, don't overwork
• When making decisions, gather opinions, use your imagination, maintain the big picture, weigh options, and be decisive. If mistakes are made, assume responsibility.
• Share responsibilty for educating graduate students
• Help others when you can, but finish your work first
• Prepare for offload