
	The Practical Oceanographer

Title Page
Contents
Introduction
The At-Sea
Experience
Planning
Safety
Test Conduct
Instrumentation
Data Acquisition
and Analysis
People
Other Resources
References
Acknowledgments
APL Safety Manual
Nautical Terms
Packing Lists
Knots

Introduction

One summer morning in 1993, I surprised my friend Gene Terray by meeting him for breakfast at the Woods Hole Bakery. I had just returned to Woods Hole from a two-week cruise on board a University of Miami research vessel. I dominated the discussion, as we ate our muffins, relating stories of my experiences from the recent cruise. I told him about the successes and the failures, the competence of the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute (WHOI) scientists, and the mistakes of some of the "first-cruise" researchers. I'm sure I made Gene a bit late for work that morning, but he didn't seem to mind.

I had first met Gene in 1991 when we spent two and one-half weeks as roommates on a research platform in the North Sea. Working with Gene was a pleasure because he is bright, has a good sense of humor and has great common sense, an all too rare combination. In the Spring of 1993, I again worked with Gene on an experiment* sponsored by The Johns Hopkins University Applied Physics Laboratory (JHU/APL), where I work as a research oceanographer.

*Thoughout this book I speak of oceanographic experiments. Many will argue with my choice of words, suggesting the replacement of the term 'experiments' with 'observations'. While it is strictly true that we go to sea to make observations, everything about these observations is carefully planned in order to maximize the information we will receive about the phenomenon of interest. While it is unarguably true that our ability to replicate oceanographic experiments is limited by the variability of nature, we do possess a great deal of control in our choice of time, location and instrumentation. Webster's defines experiment as "An act or operation designed to discover some unknown truth, principle, or effect, or to establish it when discovered." Thus I think my use of the term experiment throughout this book is both proper and fitting.

Gene politely listened to my stories and complaints about those researchers that had never been to sea before. Whenever I go to sea, there are always amusing and sometimes outrageous stories to tell when I return. Such sea stories are a tradition amongst oceanographers and serve the purpose of teaching what to do and what not to do at sea. When I had vented my last story, Gene made a comment that goes to the heart of why I have written this book. Gene said that when he had first started working at WHOI, he had asked a colleague what made WHOI special. His colleague's reply was simply, "WHOI knows how to do oceanographic experiments." Gene at first thought this answer was ridiculous. He was trained as a physicist and experienced in performing complex laboratory experiments. What could be so hard about performing oceanographic experiments? After all, you just go to sea, deploy and recover your instruments, and then return to analyze your data. Gene said that it was years before he understood what his colleague had meant. In Gene's experiences over the years, it became apparent to him that few individuals, and even fewer organizations, actually knew how to run a good oceanographic field program. I was proud when Gene said that from what he had seen, JHU/APL knew how, placing my organization in the same class as WHOI. I agreed with him that running a successful field program was much more difficult than it looked and that a tremendous amount of experience was needed to pull off such experiments.

For months after our conversation, I found myself thinking back to the point that Gene had made. Why is it so hard to do at-sea work? Why is the expertise concentrated in only a few organizations? How can this expertise be transferred to others to help insure their success?

This book is an attempt to convey some of the wisdom and experience that I have gained over the years in how to conduct at-sea experiments. Much of what I have written here can be viewed as basic common sense, but it is a common sense derived from years of at-sea work. It is surprising how many researchers ignore the basics when they go to sea. This book is meant for those who are going to sea for the first time, but I would hope that even those with considerable at-sea experience would benefit from at least some of the ideas expressed herein.

Throughout this book I have tried to reduce the lessons that I have learned into single, simple phrases. I'll take this opportunity to point out that only one of these rules is absolute (Safety first.) All of the others are best thought of as guidelines. On any given field experiment I usually break a few of my rules myself. The point is that when I do break a rule, I have carefully considered the consequences. Those times that I don't follow the rules quite often end in trouble, so the point is that I think carefully before doing.

There is a certain arrogance that accompanies experience and it certainly takes some ego to write a book about such a broad topic. Despite this I want to make it clear that I do not have all of the answers. If you understand and follow the rules I have laid out here, I can guarantee you will have a higher probability of a successful cruise. There are no guarantees, though, of ultimate success and you will certainly learn your own lessons as your career in oceanography progresses. And that really is the final, most important point - you should learn something new every time that you go to sea. Every experience, whether good or bad, should be treated as a learning experience.

A friend related the story of a successful scientist who was asked the key to performing good experiments. Without hesitation he replied, "Making right decisions." "But how do you know how to make the right decisions," his questioner continued. The answer was but a single word, "Experience". A little frustrated, the questioner then asked, "And how do you gain experience?" "By making wrong decisions," was the reply. I hope that the scientist's last answer was a bit incomplete and that you can learn from the mistakes and experiences of others.

Each chapter in this book addresses a separate topic in the conduct of oceanographic measurements. Throughout I have tried to relate true stories of my experiences at sea. Each of these experiences inevitably led to my learning a new lesson. You'll notice that I do not include the names of people or organizations that are the brunt of these stories. There are three reasons for this omission:

1. I am afraid that I would get the pants sued off of me by those who feel slandered by my comments, and I don't look particularly good in just my boxers. (Although, I'll remind anyone that is tempted to sue, that truth is an absolute defense against libel.)

2. The omission of names will provide hours of enjoyment for my friends and colleagues as they try to guess to whom I am referring in particular passages.

3. The point of the stories is not to denigrate the reputations of individuals or institutions. I instead want to illustrate how ignorance can lead to mistakes. It is my hope that we can all learn from these mistakes.

Everyone makes mistakes, and to illustrate this point throughout the book I have made a single exception to my own rule of not mentioning the names of individuals who screw up: in those cases where I was the one at fault, I'll admit it. The danger of this policy is that once you have read about some of the stupid things that I have done during my career, you may question the validity of the whole book. Please don't. I think I have learned from my mistakes and I hope you will too.