Today, I just hung around on the boat trying to get some of my thesis work done. If it weren't for the wind, today would have actually been a fantastic day; I sat on the stern of the boat and read my statistics book. Then, I settled down to do a little computing.
For lunch, I finished up the sushi, and had a keilbasa sandwich. Dinner was a fantastic porkloin with some sort of orange-zest sauce and then wonderful chocolate brownie for dessert. Mmmm...
Most of the day was spent inside the galley on the computer. In the evening, we popped in Groundhog day (how appropriate), and powowed on the future plans. It's likely that tomorrow will be too rough to leave, but the skipper will check at 8am.
Guy beat me at backgammon, but I'm now 10-8 with Cyrus. Oh yeah, the entire crew has come off the island (amchitka) temporarily and is on board for the night. Thought it would be funny if we pulled anchor at 4am and dragged everyone, including John, out for a joy-ride on the swells.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Weather report
Weather promises to be not-so-great again... here's an example of the typical forcast...
AREA 175 ADAK- KISKA
GALE WARNING
TODAY W35 13' (ex. winds out of the west at 35knots, seas 13 feet)
TONITE SW30 down to W20 11'
FRI NW 20 up to W30 12'
FRI NITE W35 13'
SAT W25 11'
SUN+MON SW20 8'
Usually, the last day has a nicer forcast than the previous. However, as the date draws closer, it always evaporates.
Looks like the pump won't be here 'till Monday earliest.
AREA 175 ADAK- KISKA
GALE WARNING
TODAY W35 13' (ex. winds out of the west at 35knots, seas 13 feet)
TONITE SW30 down to W20 11'
FRI NW 20 up to W30 12'
FRI NITE W35 13'
SAT W25 11'
SUN+MON SW20 8'
Usually, the last day has a nicer forcast than the previous. However, as the date draws closer, it always evaporates.
Looks like the pump won't be here 'till Monday earliest.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Semi-working
The word for today was wind. We waited for chocolate chip cookies to come out of the oven, and then hopped in the helicopter for a ride up to the earth station work site (Jess, Ed, Myself). Guy was going to fly to semi to scout out the station locations when the copter returned. Well, the fog came down, and we only were flown most of the way there... we landed at the end of the runway, and then hopped in the back of the four-wheeler for the rest of the trip.We mixed some cement for the bottom portion of the solar panel frame. By the time we were done with that, the weather started to sour. After lunch, a pelting mist had appeared, with winds gusting to probably 65mph. We couldn't accomplish anything, so we took shelter in the storm port and just hung out for hours. eventually, max took us back to the docks, though not before I
was able to check e-mail. Mostly junk. blech.Steaks for dinner along with a conversation about casting this trip. I (fortunately) got Antonio Banderas to play me. Steve Martin was guy, Demi played Jess, Harrison Ford played Bill, and the rest escape me right now.
The night ended with a great scrabble game (played in teams of 2 with me and Jess on the winning team) and Backgammon (I lost to Guy).
Water restrictions
Still full from last night's dinner. Can't do laundry today, and there's no shower... We're under water restrictions because the water pump bit the dust. That is, the ship has the capability of desalinating seawater in order to create fresh water for use; the pump that does so is what crapped out. We're waiting for a replacement to be shipped to Adak. Once there, our helicopter pilot will retrieve it.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Mission accomplished! (not)
Well, today's weather was absolutely beautiful. We sailed out and got three stations in the ground... and then I woke up.
Actually, today, the weather got progressively worse. Rather than sit around and twiddle my thumbs / play computer / beat my head against the wall thanks to my thesis, I went up to the earth station (with Ed) to help with the installation. We arrived at around 11am, and then put jumpers on a great many batteries. This is so that we can connect them up in parallel.
After that task, we put the frames on 20 solar panels. By then, the wind was howling and the rain (and sometimes sleet) was coming down pretty hard at us. Meanwhile, John and Cyrus monkeyed with the base of the solar panel array.
Riding back to the docks in the back of the four-wheeler was a bit wet, though I was wearing my mustang suit, which protected me pretty well. The skiff ride was a bit rough; the skiff was being pounded about by the surf, making it very difficult to board at the docks... There were enough hands at the boat to make departing O.K., though.
Upon arrival at the boat, we were greeted with platters of sushi, rolled up by the captain. MMmmm... I ate about a half a a plate by myself. And the food just kept on coming... Nachos, Salad, Shrimp Alfredo, and -- after several games of backgammon with Guy and a neandratholic scrabble game with Michelle, Jess, and Guy -- Chocolate chip cookies. mmmm...
I also called mom to say I was alive, and called Katie to take care of the Galapagos trip. I ended up giving her my credit card to deal with it, while she wrote a check for her own part.
Oddly enough, I just realized... I'm in the eastern most part of the United states! Weird.
Actually, today, the weather got progressively worse. Rather than sit around and twiddle my thumbs / play computer / beat my head against the wall thanks to my thesis, I went up to the earth station (with Ed) to help with the installation. We arrived at around 11am, and then put jumpers on a great many batteries. This is so that we can connect them up in parallel.
After that task, we put the frames on 20 solar panels. By then, the wind was howling and the rain (and sometimes sleet) was coming down pretty hard at us. Meanwhile, John and Cyrus monkeyed with the base of the solar panel array.
Riding back to the docks in the back of the four-wheeler was a bit wet, though I was wearing my mustang suit, which protected me pretty well. The skiff ride was a bit rough; the skiff was being pounded about by the surf, making it very difficult to board at the docks... There were enough hands at the boat to make departing O.K., though.
Upon arrival at the boat, we were greeted with platters of sushi, rolled up by the captain. MMmmm... I ate about a half a a plate by myself. And the food just kept on coming... Nachos, Salad, Shrimp Alfredo, and -- after several games of backgammon with Guy and a neandratholic scrabble game with Michelle, Jess, and Guy -- Chocolate chip cookies. mmmm...
I also called mom to say I was alive, and called Katie to take care of the Galapagos trip. I ended up giving her my credit card to deal with it, while she wrote a check for her own part.
Oddly enough, I just realized... I'm in the eastern most part of the United states! Weird.
Grog
7:16 AM 9/13/2005
I wanted to write in my log last night,but couldn't bring myself to do it. I'd been lying in bed listening to podcasts (including Mugglenet's podcast) for about an hour and a half... The whole time the boat is violently pitching back and forth in a fairly good imitation of that very first night at sea. Actually, it was miserable. Other than sticking my head up into the wheelhouse earlier, I never even got a look at Semi. At the time, the mountain was pretty socked in, so there wasn't all that much to see.
After that visit, I headed to bed, and rolled around there 'till the motion finally started to get to me. I headed up to the wheelhouse at 19:00 hoping to get my mitts on some chewable (fast acting, hopefully) Dramamine as well as get a good look at the horizonline. Noone on the boat was having much fun... When it was all over, and we were back in harbor, Jessica had this unbelieving look on her face, and could pretty much only bring herself to say one small word repeatedly while slowly moving her head from side to side.
I should make point to explain the effects of rough sea travel. You can't get anything done. You can't read. You can't write. You can't stand. You can't really think. You're afraid to get out of bed, 'cause you're pretty sure you'll be flung into a wall, or pole, or ceiling, or collapse on the floor. The best place to be is somewhere in the center of the boat, but that's on deck, and that's being pounded repeatedly by waves.
Once the abuse is over, you're thouroghly exhausted. You're not really in the mood to talk much and now you're too beat up to read/work/whatever. And if you've drugged yourself up with seasick meds, you're doubly so. I managed to just grab some food (I was starved, we got in to anchorage back at Constantine at 22:00) and come back to collapse in bed. Didn't close the door. Didn't turn off the light. Didn't undress. Somewhere around midnight I awoke to the inevitable flash of a camera and sill, I couldn't do anything. Next, I awoke at 3am, in the same state, but with the door closed.
Strange dreams swam through my brain last night, putting me a bit off this morning. Some involved past relationships, while others involved moving and appraisals, or native locations where I was until recently unwelcome, or movie houses with some sort movie playing... and pretty much any word spoken or story told in the wheelhouse incorporated itself into my dreams last night. Right now, I'm writing this and still trying to shake it all off.
Yestermorn, I came across a book of Robert Service poems. Wow. Despite being a bit long-winded, he's damn good. Some of them felt like they fit a little too well, though in the end, most turned somewhat sour. "The man who didn't fit in" was one that hit pretty close to the mark.
Anyway, back to describing the day... As soon as we set anchor, we sent a skiff out to retrieve Tina and Michelle - both were lucky enough to fly past our boat as it was struggling to return to Amchitka and both were very happy not to be on the boat. As the helicopter passed us, the captain radioed them "Wish you were here". Bill, the pilot, radioed back "I don't".
Guess I'm about ready for breakfast now, though I'm still groggy...
I wanted to write in my log last night,but couldn't bring myself to do it. I'd been lying in bed listening to podcasts (including Mugglenet's podcast) for about an hour and a half... The whole time the boat is violently pitching back and forth in a fairly good imitation of that very first night at sea. Actually, it was miserable. Other than sticking my head up into the wheelhouse earlier, I never even got a look at Semi. At the time, the mountain was pretty socked in, so there wasn't all that much to see.
After that visit, I headed to bed, and rolled around there 'till the motion finally started to get to me. I headed up to the wheelhouse at 19:00 hoping to get my mitts on some chewable (fast acting, hopefully) Dramamine as well as get a good look at the horizonline. Noone on the boat was having much fun... When it was all over, and we were back in harbor, Jessica had this unbelieving look on her face, and could pretty much only bring herself to say one small word repeatedly while slowly moving her head from side to side.
I should make point to explain the effects of rough sea travel. You can't get anything done. You can't read. You can't write. You can't stand. You can't really think. You're afraid to get out of bed, 'cause you're pretty sure you'll be flung into a wall, or pole, or ceiling, or collapse on the floor. The best place to be is somewhere in the center of the boat, but that's on deck, and that's being pounded repeatedly by waves.
Once the abuse is over, you're thouroghly exhausted. You're not really in the mood to talk much and now you're too beat up to read/work/whatever. And if you've drugged yourself up with seasick meds, you're doubly so. I managed to just grab some food (I was starved, we got in to anchorage back at Constantine at 22:00) and come back to collapse in bed. Didn't close the door. Didn't turn off the light. Didn't undress. Somewhere around midnight I awoke to the inevitable flash of a camera and sill, I couldn't do anything. Next, I awoke at 3am, in the same state, but with the door closed.
Strange dreams swam through my brain last night, putting me a bit off this morning. Some involved past relationships, while others involved moving and appraisals, or native locations where I was until recently unwelcome, or movie houses with some sort movie playing... and pretty much any word spoken or story told in the wheelhouse incorporated itself into my dreams last night. Right now, I'm writing this and still trying to shake it all off.
Yestermorn, I came across a book of Robert Service poems. Wow. Despite being a bit long-winded, he's damn good. Some of them felt like they fit a little too well, though in the end, most turned somewhat sour. "The man who didn't fit in" was one that hit pretty close to the mark.
Anyway, back to describing the day... As soon as we set anchor, we sent a skiff out to retrieve Tina and Michelle - both were lucky enough to fly past our boat as it was struggling to return to Amchitka and both were very happy not to be on the boat. As the helicopter passed us, the captain radioed them "Wish you were here". Bill, the pilot, radioed back "I don't".
Guess I'm about ready for breakfast now, though I'm still groggy...
Monday, September 12, 2005
Crossing and retreat
If you put mirrors on the walls, you'd have a pretty good (or violent) funhouse. We're currently retreating from the bight (er, half-formed bay) on the NE side of Semisopochnoi. The crossing wasn't too bad, having taken us something like 3-4 hours. However, as soon as we entered the bight -- our supposed safe-spot--, we got our a** handed to us. We're rolling in ways that I didn't know possible. I can feel my eyeballs pushing in and out of my skull as they try to work free.
A couple minutes ago, I tried to leave the main area of the boat -- I wanted to head aft to sit, have a soda, and watch the sea move about. I didn't make it out the door. Upon opening the hatchway, we rolled one way and another, and the sea reclaimed the deck. No, I didn't get wet, but I took the hint and came back inside. (It was very hard to control the door enough to close it) Upon reentry, the crew (all taking refuge in the galley) just sorta looked at me. Apparently the deck hand had tried to leave earlier with similar success.
Every time I turn around, it seems that I've screwed myself in some other way with my okmok stuff. I was going to look at some days of data, but I'm missing my tremorindex information. Then, I decided to look at other data -- the pseudoplots for each station... but they're in .ps format, which isn't read by anything known to my computer. What's worse, I don't seem to be improving with Spider Solitaire.... (I don't expect anyone to understand the details of the last paragraph, but the general frustration should be easy to grasp)
Anyway, we're looking for refuge on a different part of the Isle. If that doesn't work out, then we'll have to motor on back to Constantine Harbor in Amchitka. That's more than just a little frustrating -- I want to start working!!!
I tried to call (anyone) on the sat-phone, but couldn't get the system up and working just right. I'll try again when we're at anchor.
I also learned that a survival bag was left for me by Ryan (yeay!) as was the orange flightsuit by Ray. So, at least all that stuff is in order!
A couple minutes ago, I tried to leave the main area of the boat -- I wanted to head aft to sit, have a soda, and watch the sea move about. I didn't make it out the door. Upon opening the hatchway, we rolled one way and another, and the sea reclaimed the deck. No, I didn't get wet, but I took the hint and came back inside. (It was very hard to control the door enough to close it) Upon reentry, the crew (all taking refuge in the galley) just sorta looked at me. Apparently the deck hand had tried to leave earlier with similar success.
Every time I turn around, it seems that I've screwed myself in some other way with my okmok stuff. I was going to look at some days of data, but I'm missing my tremorindex information. Then, I decided to look at other data -- the pseudoplots for each station... but they're in .ps format, which isn't read by anything known to my computer. What's worse, I don't seem to be improving with Spider Solitaire.... (I don't expect anyone to understand the details of the last paragraph, but the general frustration should be easy to grasp)
Anyway, we're looking for refuge on a different part of the Isle. If that doesn't work out, then we'll have to motor on back to Constantine Harbor in Amchitka. That's more than just a little frustrating -- I want to start working!!!
I tried to call (anyone) on the sat-phone, but couldn't get the system up and working just right. I'll try again when we're at anchor.
I also learned that a survival bag was left for me by Ryan (yeay!) as was the orange flightsuit by Ray. So, at least all that stuff is in order!
Work. Wow. I can actually do work!
Well, yesterday was 9-11. I'm glad I wasn't around normal civilization to hear politicians harp on it. Here on Amchitka we worked on the earth-station. Max was putting in GPS stuff while Ed & Guy cut tubes and Cyrus and I dug holes. It was good work, and I finally feel like I'm doing something. A lot of discussion went into how we were going to get the frame for the solar-panel farm streight. We wanted to build it in one peice, and then set it in place, while john suggests we just build it in place. I think that may be harder, but it won't matter to me soon... we're going to (hopefully) go to Semi tomorrow morning. Max stayed on the island to finish up, though I suspect he was pretty happy to stay off the boat.
The cook seemed like he was in a mood this afternoon. (Lunch: Hamburgers, Dinner: Corned beef & cabbage.) He proudly displays an I'm-never-ever-going-to-work-on-a-boat-again attitude. I'll just continue to smile and play by his rules.
After lunch, Cyrus and I played backgammon on the helicopter deck. What a beautiful day!
Today, I finished our rounds of backgammon up 8-7. Speaking of helicopter deck, today is the first time (on our trip) that the helicopter has parked on the ship.
Oh, and finally... the earth station is up and running enough to get internet. Only John has done so, though. From this island, now that things have cleared up a bit, you can see all the way over to Semisopochnoi.
The cook seemed like he was in a mood this afternoon. (Lunch: Hamburgers, Dinner: Corned beef & cabbage.) He proudly displays an I'm-never-ever-going-to-work-on-a-boat-again attitude. I'll just continue to smile and play by his rules.
After lunch, Cyrus and I played backgammon on the helicopter deck. What a beautiful day!
Today, I finished our rounds of backgammon up 8-7. Speaking of helicopter deck, today is the first time (on our trip) that the helicopter has parked on the ship.
Oh, and finally... the earth station is up and running enough to get internet. Only John has done so, though. From this island, now that things have cleared up a bit, you can see all the way over to Semisopochnoi.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
rumblings
Breakfast was the same as always... I'm beginning to long for something else... french toast, croissants, yogurt, hell... even rice. Mikey doesn't do croissants, or at least, won't do croissants without more practice.
We fueled the helicopter, and now Jessica and Michelle are heading over to Semi to do their rock thing. Tina is wandering around the Island. Guy is bs'ing with the skipper, but will be doing electronic work. Cyrus is delivering a barrel of fuel up to the campsite. I'm on radio watch. The weather outside the bay is supposed to be extremely rough, so we're not going to stick our nose out 'till tomorrow.
Hooking up to the dock was uneventful, but getting us secure took lots of engineering. The bumpers don't reach the waterline during low tide, so our ropes get fouled. Last night we broke two lines and had to leave.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
Taking the load off
I've just finished a pork-chop dinner poolside. Ok, well, there's no pool, but I ate on our newly cleared Helicopter deck. Get this -- in the sunshine!
We're docked up against Amchitka Island in Constantine Harbor. The waves are breaking hard on the little islands that somewhat protect the harbor. The sun is out. The wind is blowing cold, across the nuclear island, and over our little boat. I can't help but wonder just what radiation still exists on this little Island...
This morning, I awoke to gentle and persistant rocking, as the boat -- steered by the wind -- sat perpendicular to the swell. Earlier today, we pulled up to the dock, where Cyrus and I disembarked to walk to the earthstation site in order to retrieve the four-wheeler. This boat and this dock don't get along very well. You can hear the ropes complain as the boat bounces off of the dock with horrible grinding noises.
Cyrus and I had an uneventful hike up to the runway -- Amchitka has a huge runway designed for B-29's and such. Along the way there were a great many little mounds, which was explained to me were fossilized bird terds. yeah right. Anwyay, these mounds are all over, and there's occasional signs of human habitation; signs other than the excellent road we're walking, that is.
We found the bike with no problems, after a little over an hours hike. Then we briefly visited the earth site, to find out that everything was in order. There's a beautiful hut which is more reminescent of a pyramid, as well as a large satellite dish and several tents filled with stuff. No rats, thank goodness.
Upon the return trip to the boat, we crossed paths with Jessica, Michelle, and Tina who were making their way up to find tephra sites. At the docks, we found Jerry and Josh, who were loading the dinghy with tires and wood to create bumpers for the boat. We helped and then ferried out in the skiff to the boat, which was now anchored offshore.
Bumpers were fashioned, and lunch was served -- grilled chicken sandwiches with tomato soup. Armed with the bumpers, we tried once again to lash on to the dock. It took several approaches, and a ropeburn (as I tried to attach a line to the cleat, only to have it rip through my hands... apparently I'm not quite strong enough to hold a many-ton boat in place. hmph.) before we could get the maid seated nicely next to shore. Our new bumpers were groaning, but we were held fast. Next, we proceeded to offload 6 of the huts, as well as 40 cement bags and various GPS sundries. This took most of the afternoon, and involved an inordinate number of shackles and half-hitches. Boy, am I impressed with the rope-work on this boat....
By 6pm, the loading had finished, John and Bill had completed their helicopter trip to Amchitka, and the ladies had all returned.
One other item of note: Ed came up with a great stunt to pull on Cyrus. Cyrus brought along a little stunt kayak to use here & there.... Max attached his fishing line to the kayak, and let it drift nonshalantly away from the boat during our unloading procedure. Everyone freaked, and I had to whisper "it's ok" to each person that tried to dive past me to the skiff. I think that Jerry was even more concerned than Cy.
The evening was spent playing Backgammon (5-4, so far my lead) and Speed-scrabble.
We're docked up against Amchitka Island in Constantine Harbor. The waves are breaking hard on the little islands that somewhat protect the harbor. The sun is out. The wind is blowing cold, across the nuclear island, and over our little boat. I can't help but wonder just what radiation still exists on this little Island...This morning, I awoke to gentle and persistant rocking, as the boat -- steered by the wind -- sat perpendicular to the swell. Earlier today, we pulled up to the dock, where Cyrus and I disembarked to walk to the earthstation site in order to retrieve the four-wheeler. This boat and this dock don't get along very well. You can hear the ropes complain as the boat bounces off of the dock with horrible grinding noises.
Cyrus and I had an uneventful hike up to the runway -- Amchitka has a huge runway designed for B-29's and such. Along the way there were a great many little mounds, which was explained to me were fossilized bird terds. yeah right. Anwyay, these mounds are all over, and there's occasional signs of human habitation; signs other than the excellent road we're walking, that is.
We found the bike with no problems, after a little over an hours hike. Then we briefly visited the earth site, to find out that everything was in order. There's a beautiful hut which is more reminescent of a pyramid, as well as a large satellite dish and several tents filled with stuff. No rats, thank goodness.
Upon the return trip to the boat, we crossed paths with Jessica, Michelle, and Tina who were making their way up to find tephra sites. At the docks, we found Jerry and Josh, who were loading the dinghy with tires and wood to create bumpers for the boat. We helped and then ferried out in the skiff to the boat, which was now anchored offshore.Bumpers were fashioned, and lunch was served -- grilled chicken sandwiches with tomato soup. Armed with the bumpers, we tried once again to lash on to the dock. It took several approaches, and a ropeburn (as I tried to attach a line to the cleat, only to have it rip through my hands... apparently I'm not quite strong enough to hold a many-ton boat in place. hmph.) before we could get the maid seated nicely next to shore. Our new bumpers were groaning, but we were held fast. Next, we proceeded to offload 6 of the huts, as well as 40 cement bags and various GPS sundries. This took most of the afternoon, and involved an inordinate number of shackles and half-hitches. Boy, am I impressed with the rope-work on this boat....
By 6pm, the loading had finished, John and Bill had completed their helicopter trip to Amchitka, and the ladies had all returned.
One other item of note: Ed came up with a great stunt to pull on Cyrus. Cyrus brought along a little stunt kayak to use here & there.... Max attached his fishing line to the kayak, and let it drift nonshalantly away from the boat during our unloading procedure. Everyone freaked, and I had to whisper "it's ok" to each person that tried to dive past me to the skiff. I think that Jerry was even more concerned than Cy.
The evening was spent playing Backgammon (5-4, so far my lead) and Speed-scrabble.
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