Darren asks: What time is it?

A selection of the clocks on board RRS Discovery

So after being bullied into it I'll write a post for the blog. Which is strange really, as we've recently been sent details about anti-bullying training (maybe my colleagues haven't had time to do that course yet!).

Anyway, what shall I say? How about the problems of timezones when at sea?

Things shouldn't be complicated, but with us crossing several timezones - and hence having several clock changes - as we go across the Atlantic it can get confusing when trying to keep track of the time at home relative to the ship's time. To compound matters, all scientific time recording uses GMT as the timezone.

At the start of the cruise we had two timezones to think about: the ship matched the UK and both were on British Summer Time (GMT+1), and the instruments were on GMT. Then to adjust for daylight hours the ship time was changed to match GMT - still only two timezones to worry about.

Going further west it got more complicated and ship time went back another hour, so we then had GMT-1, GMT and BST to contend with. All this can be readily resolved during the day, but when the fog of sleep is still lifting you worry that you got it wrong when setting your alarm. "Have I missed the start time for the piece of work we're doing today?" Or more importantly for some: "Have I missed breakfast?".

We've now come across a new problem, which although may be useful at home, just adds to the confusion here. Last night the UK's clock's switched from BST to GMT, and apparently so did many people's mobile phones. A mobile may be of no use to make calls when at sea, but for many of us it's our alarm clock, so when it automatically changes timezone and goes back an hour (despite all settings suggesting it shouldn't) then some people were caught out for our 05:30 start. Again the thought processes are slow in the morning and it took a good while for some to fathom why they were late. There was even an accusation made of someone changing someone else's phone time!

Me? I can just be smug that I somehow spotted the problem when setting my alarm last night.

Darren Rayner

Ben and his love of CTDs and sunshine

Ben (left) and Darren (the shy guy who hasn't written in the blog yet) enjoying themselves in temperate climes during our port call in Santa Cruz de Tenerife

I am usually found sailing into stormy seas in the high latitude North Atlantic and the Southern Ocean. The last time I sailed on Discovery the wind hardly dropped below force 10 (wind speed of about 60 mph). So this time it’s quite refreshing to pack a bag containing shorts and sun cream, rather than wooly hats, scarves and thermals. My role on this RAPID cruise is to oversea all the underway data collection and processing the CTD data. What’s a CTD?  I’m glad you asked.

A CTD is the physical oceanographers main instrument. Alex is stood next to one in a previous post. It is lowered from the ship on wire to within about 10m of the seabed and then hauled back on board. This can take a while, as the seabed is currently 5000m below us! During this journey instruments measure how the temperature and conductivity of the water varies with depth. Temperature and conductivity are used to calculate the waters salinity (or saltiness). The MicroCat instruments (picture here) on the moorings are in effect little CTDs so we attach them to the CTD and use their bigger, and slightly more accurate, brother to check that they are working correctly.

We not only check that the new MicroCat instruments going out on the new moorings are OK we also attach the ones we have recovered onto the CTD and fly them into the depths as well. As if they haven’t had enough, they have been out in the darkness all alone for a year already!

Ben Moat

What are we doing here?

Reading Rafael's post on the blog yesterday I realised that there are just two scientists who hadn't yet written anything - and I didn't want to be last.  I am David and in Gerard's classification of oceanographers (students or grizzled sea-scientists) I fall into the latter.

You will have already read that we are currently travelling between Southampton, the Canaries and the Bahamas.  You might also have thought that this sounds like the itinerary of a holiday cruise rather than a research endeavour.  So what are we doing here?

The sun heats the equatorial regions more strongly than higher latitudes and the ocean and atmosphere redistribute the heat transporting it form the tropics towards the North and South poles.  There is though a remarkable exception.  In the South Atlantic the ocean transports heat towards the equator.  As a consequence the North Atlantic transports more heat northwards and this has an important impact on the climate of northwest Europe.  The  RAPID project measures the poleward heat transport in the North Atlantic ocean.

This is my first time on a RAPID project cruise but the work has been going on since 2004.   There isn't another project like this anywhere else and the measurements we make are widely used by climate scientists.  We are really quite proud of it.

You might still be asking why measure the heat transport at the latitude of the Bahamas and not somewhere else?  There are a couple of reasons. This is the latitude at which the northward transport of heat is greatest - about 1.3 PW (1.3 quadrillion Watts).  It is also a latitude at which the Gulf Stream is constrained in the Florida Strait and that has been monitored by our colleague in Florida AOML and RSMAS for many years.

Below are some of the instruments used to monitor the ocean.   We are deploying about 170 altogether - considering the size of the ocean the number required seems surprisingly few.



David

Microcats in the Deck Lab. Microcats are instruments that measure temperature, salinity and pressure on a mooring

   

Hurricanes, ocean saltiness and me: Rafael Jaume-Catany

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Rafael with Mt. Teide in the background as we departed Tenerife

 How can I start writing about myself and introducing you my research curiosities avoiding being dull and boring. How can I describe you that at the moment I am living the opportunity of my life doing research on board of the historic RSS Discovery. I cannot count how many times I have been looking at this living legend from the canteen of the National Oceanographic Centre (NOC) and imagining one day stepping on board. I was imagining that moment would be like to connect with the history of ocean sciences.

Well, so here we are. I am writing you from the cabin number 27 of the RSS Discovery and wondering how many times scientists have been using this table facing the eye bull (round window in the cabin). Meanwhile Discovery is doing its last journey, me, Rafael E. Jaume-Catany from Sóller a little but proud village in Mallorca (Spain) I am doing my first forty-day cruise along the North Atlantic.

The task of finding my research questions is a work in progress that has been developed through my studies in marine sciences in the University of Vigo. Then in the University of Palmas de Gran Canary (Spain) and in the University of Algarve (Portugal), where I found my passion for using satellites to monitor different parameters of the oceans including ocean color to study global ocean’s productivity, sea surface temperature (SST) and the sea level. But in there my research question was still not clear and I had to cross the line and I had to go to the University of Baja California in Ensenada (Mexico) and start discovering my research interest.  There, I started to look at phytoplankton blooms induced by hurricane motion over the west Pacific. But if you are reading this and you are thinking that this is nothing new for the scientific community, then you are right. So I had to come back to Europe seeking what could be really original, useful for the society in the same time enjoyable for me..

This is how my research interest put me in contact with the satellite group at the NOC where I had the opportunity to work and to complete a master’s programme in the university of Southampton using SMOS and Aquarius, two brand new satellites from a European and American-Argentinean partnership missions. The aim of both missions is to measure the sea surface salinity (SSS) from space. Finally, this journey brought me here. During this Discovery cruise I am processing the temperature and salinity measured at five meters depth along the Discovery track from all along the way from Southampton down to the Canary Island and then to the Bahamas. This cruise is an excellent opportunity for me to see from the first hand how in situ oceanographic data are collected. We are going to deploy very exciting instruments including Argo floats, surface drifters from the SPURS project and a large number of moorings from the Rapid project.

It is an incredible experience and I am glad that my passion for science was strong enough to bring me here.

Rafael

Nemo found on top of my computer...

Figure 1: Nemo in the lab with, from left, Charlotte, Rafael, Alex and Ben.

Let me introduce another member of our team. In Figure 1 (I told you there would be science here) is our pet clownfish called Nemo. As all observationalists tend to be, I was sceptical of bringing a clownfish to sea. My scepticism was soon sidelined when I learn he speaks fluent English (though with a strong French accent). We have struck up an unlikely friendship. He informs me that he hates his name and likens its prevalence to the explosion of Kylies in the UK in the early 90's. He maintains that he was born in the mid-1950's (thus rubbishing his earlier story about the origin of his name) and can tell me anything about the ocean as he knows everything and has been everywhere. I am inclined reinstate my scepticism.

I am at a loss as to what category of sea-going scientist Nemo fits into: he is neither student (Figure 1, left & background) nor gristled sea-scientist (Figure 1, right). In fact I'm not even sure if 'he' is male or female–apparently that's a touchy subject with clownfish. Anyway, he was in need of an introduction. He apologises for not writing this entry himself but fins are not good for typing. I pointed out that he had plenty of fins but not enough gers. I don't think he got it.

The reason he looks so unhappy in the picture is because we've had an unexpected stop in Santa Cruz de Tenerife and he is not allowed up the road. As we approached Santa Cruz, a rainbow split the sky. The rocky peaks of Teneriffe were swaddled in mists. The whole sight was rather wonderful. Personally, I'll be happier seeing this view from the aft deck in a few days time…

Santa Cruz de Tenerife

First Impressions: Charlotte

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Charlotte and her first Argo Float

My name is Charlotte and I am a PhD student in Hamburg in Germany.  Back at home, I am working on understanding the Atlantic Meridional Overturning Circulation (AMOC), the mechanism responsible for carrying warm waters from the equator to higher latitudes. Despite its importance for the climate, measuring the AMOC is very difficult and the RAPID array (where we are headed) provides the very first continuous measurements. So I was very excited at the prospect of experiencing the data-collecting first-hand.

Unlike everyone else, I didn’t get to sleep in my own bed the last nights before the cruise, but at least that meant that I also didn’t spend the last days agonizing about things that I might have forgotten to pack. Once I had waved rainy Hamburg goodbye from the airplane, I knew that I better have all important documents with me – or there was nothing to be done about it.

As I hardly knew any of my fellow scientists before, I was a bit nervous when I arrived in Southampton, but everyone turned out to be really nice! The ship itself was also a pleasant surprise (larger than I thought it would be!), as was the weather, which was considerably better than in Hamburg.

This is my first time being on a ship for more than one night, and it has been quite an experience so far. Thankfully, the seasickness left me after a few days on board, so that I could really start to enjoy the journey.  There are a lot of unexpected delights: The food is very good (and I do not have to cook myself), we have seen dolphins more than one time, and there is no better place to watch sunsets or the stars than on a ship in the middle of nowhere!  

Dolphins off Discovery's bow

 So far, we have deployed a drifter and an ARGO float, and mooring operations are underway since yesterday, which is also pretty exciting! I am really looking forward to the next weeks!

Deploying Harry

Today we deployed ‘Harry’ the first of our five Argo floats. We give them nicknames, in this case it the name of my youngest son. Compared to other instruments we deploy, the Argo float is relatively small and possibly one of the only instruments we are allowed to deploy ourselves. By the way - Harry is the long yellow cylindrical tube in the above image, not to be mistaken for the two scientists in yellow hard hats lowering him over the side!

Caption:  Raphael Jaume Catany and Gerard McCarthy deploying the Argo float ‘Harry’.  The insert top right shows the float in the water soon after deployment. 

 

Argo floats not only float, but they sink as well! As they sink they measure the temperature and salinity (or saltiness) in the upper 2000m of the ocean.  Hopefully they return to the surface after about 10 days and tell us what they have measured (within hours of surfacing!!). Their positions at the surface are also recorded, which we can use to determine how the upper ocean is moving. The position of ‘Harry’ and the other 3663 operation Argo floats can found here. The floats are operational for about 5 years before they run out of power and sink to the cold-dark ocean floor.

Measurements from little ‘robots’ like Argo help scientists to a better understanding of the world’s oceans and lead to more reliable climate models. These models are used to understand (and eventually predict) the planets long-term climatic changes and it’s natural variability.  

Ben Moat

First Impressions: Alex Clarke

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Alex Clarke and the CTD, starboard deck

Hello, I am one of the students on board RRS Discovery, helping out with the refurbishment of the RAPID array. I graduated from the University of Bath in physics and have been searching for exciting opportunities for further study in various fields. I have never sailed any meaningful distance before, and so the opportunity to spend 6 weeks as sea was very exciting, especially tied in with the science work. 

I have to say, the excitement somewhat died on day 2 and 3 due to feeling ill and sea sick. However I am gradually able to use a computer for longer periods now without having to go and lie down. The constant wavering of the boat is quite an interesting experience, I am still finding it hard to walk around and carry out daily tasks without almost falling over. 

One of the major points of excitement was when we sailed over the continental plate and took a look at the echo depth sounder as we went from 500 to 5000 meters of water (unimaginably deep!). I was also lucky enough to see a pair of dolphins whilst I was looking over the front of the boat. 

The moon, Venus and, most importantly, the CTD

 I am a keen star-gazer and I got a glimpse of the sky out here the other night, it was very misty (which was fairly scary in itself being out on deck in the dark) but I still caught a shooting star, saw part of the Milky way and picked out Andromeda without any need for binoculars! So I am looking forward to even clearer nights to come. 

We are currently in international waters off of Portugal and have tested the CTD to 1000 m. The next one (due at 3am) will be interesting as it goes all the way down to 5000 meters. Lastly I am looking forward to getting out to the RAPID array, seeing how they are retrieved and deployed, and also using the data that we get from them.

Alex Clarke

Departure

We set sail on Monday from our home port of Southampton. We had been mobilising the ship since Friday in preparation for departure. Our rusting hunk of scientific history, as the BBC called poor old Discovery, sat in contrast with the enormous, white Ventura across the pier in Ocean Terminal.

We don't usually mobilise from Southampton–often we fly to the Canary islands and moblise there. Mobilising at home has the advantage of allowing you to sleep in your own bed and not having to stand behind people who neither move nor walk on the moving walkways in Gatwick. On the downside, the scientific party haven't had the chance to get to know each other.

Over the next few posts, everyone will have a chance to introduce themselves. In the meanwhile here's our glamorous set of scientists.