My personal philosophy when it comes to
learning is that sitting in a classroom can only teach you so much. Eventually,
you’re going to have to get your hands dirty. Reams of information have little
meaning if you weren’t involved in collecting it. The human element is lost,
and with it a chance to expand the scope of one’s learning from the theoretical
into the practical.
The Sea Education Association appears to be
in agreement with me. Since 1971, they have been running high school and
undergraduate programs from their campus in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. I took
part in the Science at Sea (SAS) program that is run for people in high school.
The ten day on shore component is the theory, teaching you the skills and
information that will be important to you on the sea component-eight days of
sailing on a brigantine deploying instruments and hauling away on lines.
When I first arrived on campus, my nerves
were lessened by the fact that the place was not actually a prison and looked
quite pleasant. After checking in, I was directed to the cottage (C house) I
would be staying in. My roommates would be two other boys named (according to
the name tags on the door) Luke and Jared. The roster for the girl’s rooms was
also posted on the bulletin board, and to my amusement I found that twelve
girls would have to share one bathroom. Seeing as how there were only three
boys, that wasn’t a problem for us, but the people upstairs would have a hard
time of it. The mad rush to schedule shower times was a lively topic of dinner
table discussion for most of the camp.
Time passed and everybody began to trickle in
and get settled down. The two cottages that the students of SAS occupied were
Bellatrix and Capella, or B and C house. Faculty and college students on a
different program occupied the three others. The time then came for a big group
orientation, which took place in the lecture hall cum study area in a building
called the Madden center. There, we each introduced ourselves and our hobbies,
and also our reasons for coming here. Most of the people who were there looked
like they belonged. About half claimed an interest in a career in science, and
of those about a third (including yours truly) said they were interested in
marine sciences. There were no classes that day; instead we spent our time at
the cottages mingling with each other. Me being the classic introvert, I chose
to sit alone and think for some time about what I was getting into. My resident
advisor, Mary, came up to me and said that she was going to let me off the hook
for the first day, but by tomorrow I had to be more social. I agreed and
returned to my ponderings.
Dinner was served, with vegetarian options
for the three vegetarians there (myself included). A strict lights out of 2230
was enforced, the reason being that we would all be very tired at the end of
the day from all our work, and that sleep was essential. The next day classes
started. To call our workload for the shore component “heavy” would’ve been an
understatement. “Thrown in the deep end with no life
jacket” was a close approximation.
There were three main classes at the camp.
Oceanography, which focused mainly of physical and chemical oceanography,
Maritime Studies, which taught about the history of the oceans and the events
tied to it, and Nautical Sciences, which was a course that taught us everything
we would need to know onboard the ship. As the camp progressed we learnt about
the history of Cape Cod and the surrounding area, the chemistry of seawater and
proper safety procedures onboard the ship, among other things. Each course was
meant to give us a historic, scientific, and practical context for what we
would be seeing once we were sailing. The work was hard, but during our free
time we were allowed to work together with our friends, and our combined
efforts meant that there were very few people who didn’t possess a basic
understanding of the particular topic we were studying.
The topics we covered were varied and
interesting. In oceanography our primary topics were ocean currents and
nutrient circulation, but we also covered tectonic activity and ocean geology.
Maritime Studies’ focus was the varied environmental policies that countries
had passed and their impact on the oceans, as well as the South China Sea
disputes and Somali piracy. In Nautical Science, we learned how to tie various
knots, take weather observations, and properly plot our positions on a chart.
Additionally, the various duties we would have onboard we explained to us. It amazed me to see the gusto with which
people took to the classes. The curiosity and drive to learn that characterizes
our generation was readily apparent as we worked. Everybody brought something to the table, and our combined
talents made anything possible.
After ten days, the shore component was over,
and after a thorough cleaning of our houses we made our way to Dryer’s Dock,
where the SSV Corwith Cramer waited.
SSV stands for Sailing School Vessel, and it allows SEA to crew its ships with
fewer professional crew than would be required. This is because the students
are legally recognized as part of the crew, and have real responsibilities. This
also meant that we, as students, had to be more aware of what we were doing and
generally be more careful. We had
been introduced to the captain, Virginia Land, two days before we left during
our “Life at Sea” orientation. Now we had the chance to meet the rest of the
crew. We were divided into watches, A Watch, B Watch, and C Watch. Each watch
would rotate through various shifts, being assigned to either the deck or the
lab. Deck work involved cleaning the ship, performing boat checks, noting
position and weather in the log, and assisting with sail handling. The lab
would entail you helping in the deployment of scientific instruments,
processing data, and looking at plankton catches through a microscope. I will
go into more detail later.
Our duties on the boat were numerous and
varied. Most important were boat checks, hourly sweeps of every inch of the
vessel and the engine room to see if anything was on fire. They were a way of
keeping everyone safe and reminded us that we needed to be constantly vigilant.
Out here, we had only ourselves to depend on if a fire broke out of if the ship
was flooding. Our captain made mention of the fact that of a half-dozen small
fires the crew has had to battle in the Cramer’s
lifetime, all were spotted by people on boat checks.
Next was the filling out of the log. The log
we had to be careful with, as it was a legal document and therefore needed to
be treated well. Mistakes are not crossed out; a straight line is put through
them so the text is still visible. Cross something out completely, and you run
the risk that the Coast Guard will think you’re trying to hid something. Our
position was plotted hourly on the chart and was assisted by GPS. Constant
monitoring of the weather was also vital, and we kept a separate weather log.
After a quick set of introductions and watch
meetings, we ate dinner and were allowed to sleep a full eight hours, a luxury
that we would not be getting for the next few days. Morning arrived and after
breakfast, my watch (A) took the 0700-1300 watch. I was assigned to the lab,
and we deployed a phytoplankton net and while waiting, familiarized ourselves
with the layout of the lab and some of the equipment there. The scientific instruments were pretty
much the same ones that scientists use, and the samples and data they collected
was interesting to study. The
whole process of deployment, collection and processing took place across
multiple watches, so nobody got to see the full thing from start to finish. It
was gratifying to know, however, that somebody on the next watch would
appreciate your work, and in return complete another task for you.
Being assigned to deck meant you mostly used
your brawn instead of your brains, hauling on lines, scrubbing the deck and
steering the vessel. Deck watches were oftentimes filled with periods of
inactivity; sails did not need to be constantly
adjusted and only one person was at the helm. The flexibility of the watch
schedule allowed those who weren’t really doing anything to help out in the
lab, or perhaps take over at the helm. Everybody was eager to help and there
was always something that needed to be done, even if that something was not
your official duty for the day. Kids will be kids and while adults can claim
(with a certain degree of accuracy) that teenagers don’t take anything
seriously, the maturity of everyone on board was a major help to the smooth
running of the ship. The importance of not acting like an idiot was not lost on
anyone.
There were, of course, various adjustments
that people needed to make to their attitudes in order to maintain their
sanity. Learning how to deal with seasickness was one of these. People “donated”
to the ocean’s stock of organic matter on a fairly regular basis for the first
couple of days. I myself never “donated” but the queasiness was there.
Additionally, the tables in the main salon were gimbled, meaning that the
tables moved with the motion of the sea rather than with the motion of the
boat, and thus kept food on the tables and not on the floor. Still, I never
really did get use to the fact that suddenly the table might tip and place my
plate of macaroni in a very precarious position (nothing ever fell off though).
Elbows on the table were a big no-no, as interrupting the motion of the tables would
send stuff flying everywhere. The constant threat of sunburn was another major
adjustment, and the crew was very, very serious about the liberal application
of sunscreen. There is no mother, living or dead, that can even match the
amount of nagging the crew put out on this issue, and for good reason. Sunburn,
even mild sunburn, would incapacitate you, which was much more serious in the
middle of the North Atlantic than it was on shore.
Hard work might be all the fun that some
people need, but there were always times to just unwind a bit and relax. A lot
of people could play a guitar or ukulele, and sing-alongs on deck were popular.
There were many talented singers present in our group, so it wasn’t torture to
listen to us either. Part of our “homework” was to keep journals, and while
initially it just started out as an assignment, for me at least it became a way
of preserving in a permanent way everything I had experienced on board. There
were so many new things to see and new experiences to have that it was
impossible for me to remember everything, so the journal offered a place to put
it down in writing. It was also quite relaxing at the end of a long day
(although due to the crazy schedules, the definition of “day” varies) to have nothing to do but write.
Many people have said that human beings, when
put into stressful situations, develop bonds that are stronger than they should
be, especially if the people in question haven’t spent very much time together.
Eighteen days is not a long time, but getting to know each other developed a
real esprit de corps amongst all of us, living on that small ship, a little
island of civilization in the middle of a vast and often unforgiving ocean. We
trusted each other with our lives, and lookout duty was taken very seriously.
Living together, working together, learning together, and never being more than
100 feet from someone else made us into a team, a tight-knit community that
functioned smoothly and efficiently. We all had to look out for each other, and
we slept better at night knowing there was someone watching over us too.
The SAS program is probably the best academic
course I have ever done. This has affirmed my lifelong dream of being a marine
biologist; I know now with utter certainty that this is the career for me.
Nothing bad that happened to me, not seasickness, not sleeplessness, not
feeling gross after six days without a shower, could compare to the amount of
fun I had and the amount that I learned. It was a fantastic experience, and I
made some great friends too. I am
both eager and willing to try their undergraduate programs when I’m old enough,
and perhaps do another of their high school ones next year. Without a doubt,
this was the best summer I’ve ever had.
And yes, we did sing pirate songs.
