What was: Day 37 - The once-in-a-lifetime iceberg and the potatoe boat

Sometimes you get up in the morning and see this:



AND THEN SOMETIMES YOU SEE THIS:



Let's take another look, this time with the knowledge that this thing is 60 m (yes, 180 ft) tall. Note the zodiac in the foreground:



And one more angle for good measure:



Eh, another:



Amazing! And the adventures do not stop there! Today we had another ship drill, except this time we deployed the lifeboats. They needed (or...maybe allowed) a few volunteers to come along for the ride. First, however, they packed the lifeboats full so we got to see what it would be like to fit in there in a real emergency. In a word: squashed.



Then most everyone left except for the bravest/the ones with the craziest hats.



And then it was potatoe boat time!



It rides - guess what - like a potatoe in the water. Ours leaked, but Dan the engineer saved us.



Everyone loves the potatoe boat. The potatoe boat could save your life.

What was: Day 36, again, because there's just too much good stuff

As the title says: what with two helicopter rides and other business, Day 36 requires two posts. First, a few more helicopter shots.

To start - entering Oliver Sound, and one of my favorite photos of the trip:



A lovely shot up in the surrounding mountains:



And an iceberg:



Unfortunately my life is not all helicopter rides and lollipops. We have also begun to do work, which is actually not unfortunate at all because I am more than ready to start having something to do. Most of what I am doing involves taking water samples from the rosette and then filtering the samples for different chemical tests. I don't actually do the testing, I just prepare the samples. Let's take a look at the team!

Kary makes an excellent rosette monkey:



Bernard looooves to sample:



And (although not actually working with us), Jesse is a man who cares not for our petty concerns with cold:


Or for any social traditions regarding the matching of socks.

Thus ends Day 36.

What was: Day 36 - Helicopters are fantastic

Today was fantastic for photography, which means it was pretty much fantastic in general. We have some media people onboard who are doing some filming, so I got to tag along with them when they took a helicopter out, and then I got to go out AGAIN in the afternoon to take some shots for ArcticNet. We have recently passed Pond Inlet and are entering Oliver Sound, where the Heron (a small survey vessel) is mapping the sea floor.

Coming past Pond Inlet:


Entering Oliver Sound:




Traversing Oliver Sound:





While waiting for the ship to come around to a good spot in the sound, the pilot took the copter up over the mountain for a view of the ice moving down the mountain (like a small glacier):



And then we did one of the most awesome things I've ever done. I told the pilot I wanted a shot of the top of the ship next to the Heron (the small yellow boat), so he swung the helicopter into a steep upward spiral, ending high above the ship at a sharp tilt, letting me take this shot:



I still get shivers whenever I look at that photo. I hope it conveys something of what it's like to be in that position. Finally we came down close to the ship to get a shot of the people watching us from the top of the bridge:



For a bit of perspective on the size of this sound (which is like a fjord), here's a bit of a diagram:



Simply fantastic.

What was: Day...something

There are a few other things that happened during the initiation days...

Trip to the engine rooms! Yay for PO and Dan!



And: first iceberg sighting!



Also...our first taste of some heavy seas:



(Note that the wave is about 15 ft high)

What was: Day 35 - Eggs and Tridents

We're finally finished with all of the initiation business: whoa. The whole process is made signficantly more...interesting? Totally confusing? when people are doing everything in French and you really have no idea what they're asking you to do until you watch what everyone else is doing. This includes:

Four person skiing races -


An odd form of fairly personal twister -



Being lead around in handcuffs and blindfolded -



Facing judgement in front of Neptune -



And being forced to blow bubbles into a nasty sort of old veggie stew -



Events not shown here include 8am "workouts" (ie a variety of exercises including boxing and ballroom dancing that I believe were primarily introduced to make us look ridiculous) and at the very end following a group photo, being hosed down on the front deck with the firehoses. By far the worst event, however, was when we were all handcuffed, put into teams, and made to do a relay race in which each team was given a cooler filled with yellow seawater and four eggs, and was then expected to have each person pick up the (raw) egg in their teeth and carry it to another bucket. By my turn, the last egg was broken and I couldn't fit my shoulders into the cooler...so I had to pick up my broken egg off the helicopter pad.

Good times.

Some of us, however, began the revolution.




I hang out with a pretty rough crowd.

(That would be Neptune's trident.)

What was: Day 31 - Initiations

Busy times! We are finally beginning with the science work, testing some of the sampling equipment. This thingy is called a rosette, and it will become my life:


You use it to get water from whatever depth you want! More on that later.

So when you cross the Arctic circle for the first time by ship, you have to go through an initiation ceremony. It's like a frat club for people who cross the circle - it's done on every boat in every country. (I didn't cross by boat when I was in Norway, so being in the Arctic then didn't count - you have to get the certificate.) These ceremonies used to be sort of rough - shaved heads, dunkings, etc. They're not really allowed to hurt us delicate scientists though so it will be interesting to see what happens. Today was the start of the ceremonies - we won't cross the circle for another few days. They took the new people - about 15 of us - and made us necklaces of "Police No Crossing" tape that we can't take off until the end of the ceremonies - including showers, sleeping, everything.



This morning my friend Lisa and I got up early because breakfast was supposed to be really good, but for the initiates they would only serve us green oatmeal.

What was: Day 28 - Things Seen

Guess what I saw tonight? Northern lights. I truly cannot describe it. Floating on this boat, standing on the helicopter pad where there's no lights, there is nothing around us and you can feel the boat swaying over this glassy water. This green light takes up a huge part of the sky, like an enormous rainbow. They say they will get much brighter - maybe see some different colors - and they'll dance. You can see them slowly moving now, it's incredible. Unfortunately I can't seem to make a decent photo - I'll see what I can do in the future.

We are about to reach 60 degrees north - not so long until the Arctic Circle.

Seabird:

What was: Day 26 - Worries and Adventures

I'm a bit worried about the lab and what will be expected of me. We are currently spending two weeks making the long trek from Quebec City up to our first sampling station around Pond Inlet. Until then, there's pretty much nothing to do. We've got a small gym (two stationary bikes, a treadmill and weights in a room about the size of a large couch) and other than that we spend our time eating, sleeping, and making preparations for science. Preparations in our case took about 1 day. Visiting the lab today I noticed that most things had already been set up, including most of the equipment and machinery, and including a list of instructions and safety procedures taped to the walls.


Everything is in French. Looking at these papers gives me no more of an idea of what I’m doing than I ever had. Either I will have to learn to memorize what I have to do, or I will have to sit down and have someone translate it for me as I type out a copy for myself. Hmm.

In more of the "crazy adventure" vien, I went out in the helicopter again! The helicopter was going out to a small island with our onboard mechanic to help another copter that broke down out there, so I got to go along for the ride.

The island (which I can't remember the name of, but it's famous for having too many deer):


Once we finished on the island, the pilot took me around the Amundsen for a few shots:


And:


Today was also our first ship drill:



Stunning.

What was: Day 23 - Zai Jian Quebec

For those who don't speak Chinese: Goodbye Quebec!

This ship is enormous. I am still learning where everything is and how to get from my room to anywhere. The ship has six main levels - I live on the sixth level, which is lowest in the ship. Our portholes look out immediately above the water. The other day I had the incredible opportunity to go out on the ship's helicopter (yes, this thing is an aircraft carrier) and take some photos of the Amundsen docked in Quebec:


Keith Levesque (aka ship coordinator exdraordinaire) was with me - we're excited!



Today the ship is finally leaving Quebec! Time to say goodbye to warmth (for now I say: thank god). A ton of people came out to see the ship off, and after a series of bullhorn exchanges between the Amundsen and everyone else on the river, we set off down the St. Lawrence.

A note about the food: it's incredible, absolutely amazing. Unfortunately the kitchen crew doesn't 100% speak English, which makes eating a little difficult for me. The way it works is that there's a basic menu for each meal, and you get in line and tell the cook what you want and they dish it out. This is a problem when the menu is only written in French, and I can't see the food so I can't even point, and the cook understands that I don't speak French, but doesn't know all the English names of the food. Saying the food names loudly in French doesn't really help me either. So usually I resort to pointing to someone else and sort of nodding, indicating that "I want what they have". This works well enough to sruvive, if not well enough to get me what I'd really want to eat. At least this trip is teaching me to eat whatever is available. Today, for example. I ended up with fish, because the cook said "FISH OK?" and I was like...sure, whatever. This fish was amazing. If fish had tasted like that the firs time I had fish (and, well, every single time I had fish) then I might have possible been a fish eater. Considering some of the stuff I've eaten recently, considering what I usually hate...this may be a new era for Laurel. An era of desperation torn between social awkwardness and hunger. So really, not actually a new era at all, but totally normal.

A final photo - preparing to leave Quebec:

Coming up

Over the next few days I'm going to try to post a bunch of updates to catch everyone up to what I've been doing for the past few months. I'm currently in Iceland staying with my cousin waiting for my flight to Greenland. (Unfortunately Iceland isn't actually far north enough for my project.) It was a loooong haul to get from northern Canada to Iceland, and it'll be a lot more to get to Greenland.

But more on that later! I'm going to attempt to be proper and somewhat chronological, although really this is just an effort to expose some of the 12 GB of photos I've taken over the last two months.

Guess who's back (if by back we mean on the internet)

Hello!

Wow. First time on land in two months.

More to come soon. I am sitting alone in an airport in Edmonton, Canada waiting for my flight.

What was it like, you ask?

Maybe a little something like this:


(Belcher Glacier, Sept 19, helicopter shot)

Day 17: Another totally random job for the ol' resume

Things have gone from somewhat stagnant to suddenly quite active. After an enormously stressful few days waiting to figure out what was happening with the ship (where my lab team was, whether I should be moving on the ship, how to disguise how much luggage I actually have) I eventually just went to the dock, found the ship, and thankfully ran into someone I know. I've since met the people I'll be working for and had at least a glimpse at my room. The people seem excellent - I really am very excited to know that they are really nice and plan to teach me everything. The room is perfectly adequate and a quick survey suggests that between the closet and a set of drawers I should be able to put everything somewhere and keep as much out of the roomate's way as possible. The roomate I have not met yet...we shall see how that goes...

So, like I mentioned previously, this will unfortunately be my last post for quite awhile. I will not have internet on the ship, although I will have an email system that will allow me to access a special address. If you need/want to contact me, please email lfmcf47@gmail.com and follow the instructions in the auto-response. Otherwise, I will write once I get to Iceland on October 22th. Unless I find internet in one of the 18 MILLION airports that I will visit between Kugluktuk and Iceland. I can't remember if I already wrote about this, but I have to spend two days and five flights to get from northern Canada to Iceland - which is just to get me to Greenland. Ah well.

Well, I hope you've all enjoyed the blog so far - time to take care of some last minute things and get my luggage downstairs. Thanks for checking in and please try again in a few months. All the best to you all!

Bad news, chickadees.

After doing some investigation into the not-able-to-post-photos problem, it seems that for some reason I cannot upload photos from my new camera. I am not sure why this is happening, but I am in contact with the blogger.com people and will try to figure something out, since most of my work will be off the new camera. Until it's fixed, I will attempt to entertain with some old photos from a less snazzy camera.

Such as:


Me in Norway (Svalbard) again, handling a little auk chick while doing some measurements for the ecology project I was working with. (This bird really is called a "little auk".)

Day 11: Oh, things are going REAL well

I'm sure most everyone will find this story ridiculous, but keep in mind that I'm from California, so 1) I don't know anything about buses and 2) rain never lasts longer than a few minutes. Here we go.

So today I decide I'm going to try to walk to this outdoors-y store to try to get some pants that won't freeze in the winter (ie, not cotton). The store is about 2 miles away, and considering my severe aversion to public transport I figure this is no problem to walk. Ordinarily, this would be true. I get maybe about a mile out, and suddenly it totally started pouring rain. Now, I will admit, it was cloudy out when I left the house, but I didn't really think anything of it. So I didn't have a jacket or umbrella or anything, and since I was pretty much using my stellar (honestly) sense of direction to get me to the store, I also technically didn't know where I was, or, even if I did, what bus would be going in the right direction to get me home. I stopped under a bus-stop shelter, thinking the rain would probably just stop after a little. Wrong. There are torrents of rain coming down, and even if I wanted to take a bus, I'm on the wrong side of the street. By the time I get on the correct side of the street and decide I'm just going to try to walk back, my pants are soaked from the St. Lawrence River Jr. in the street (I am also wearing sandles) and I've got this ridiculous wet-t-shirt look going on.

Basically I ended up walking home in the rain, getting to my block (which is in a busy shopping area) in time to have the rain stop and look like a bigger fool. Sigh.

Other than THAT, things continue to be ok. I had a blast hanging out with some people that I met last weekend (thanks for the tour, Dakx!) and maybe have a few new readers in Quebec. On the subject of this blog, I have a bit of bad news. While I'm on the ship, I will probably have zero access to the "internet", although I will have access to a medieval sort of email system. This means that from August 18th to October 19th I may not be able to update this website. If you are still interested in hearing what I'm up to during that period, write a note to lfmcf47@gmail.com and I will give you instructions on how to get in contact with me. I am also sorry to say that blogger.com seems to be having some problems uploading photos, so I apologize for the lack of pictures thus far.

Whoa! Nevermind! Photo problem appears to be fixed.
This is me in Norway last summer.













Well, to all the newcomers, and everyone else, please email me if you have any questions about my project. Right now I gotta find some more pictures to put up while I can...

Day 6: Things=OK

So I'm coming up on one week out, and things are pretty ok. Most of my time here has been spent walking around the city desperately trying to find cheap summer clothes, because it is incredibly hot and humid here. I was under the BLATANTLY INCORRECT assumption that Canada is pretty much always cold, in varying degrees. Considering my limited luggage, I had brought with me only pants and a few t-shirts, and otherwise all sweaters. Now I have one pair of shorts that I wear almost everyday.

Anna and I are getting along quite well I think. She is always arranging things for us to do or inviting me to come out with her and her friends, which is very nice. I went to a BBQ at her PhD
advisor's house yesterday, where I got to meet a lot of the people who will be on the icebreaker, including a bunch of people who know my advisor at Pomona. Everyone was pretty nice, but unless they were talking directly to me, they mostly spoke in French...so I sort of sat there, most of the time. Excellent food, though.

I had a bit of a scare with someone giving me the impression that I needed a Canadian work visa, but I recently met the ship-coordinator who assured me that all my paperwork is correct. I seem to live on the verge of a series of catastrophes - its been a little hard for me to relax. I continue to stress over my luggage and whether I will be able to fit it all in my room on the ship.

An interesting thing - NO ONE can tell I am American, which is kinda cool. Most people talk to me in French, and then when I have to tell them I only speak English, they think I'm from the UK. When I went to the BBQ, all of Anna's friends told her that I speak English very well and that I have a nice accent (they thought I was Polish like Anna). I guess this is good, that I speak my native language decently well? Or does this mean my English is questionable enough that I sound foreign? Hm.

Finally: Laurel and her luggage!


Also! My wee brother turns 18 today. Happy Birthday, Dane!

Day 1: Oh God

It has officially begun! A Year In The North has now commenced.

And what a start it was. After goodbyes before security at LAX, I went up to my gate...to wait for my flight for 2 hours, because the flight went from being delayed 10 minutes, to a half an hour, to an hour, to two hours. Additionally, in this waiting period - which I was expecting to spend on the phone talking to people I hadn't (or had) seen recently - my phone went insane and told me I was using a headset, which I wasn't. So I couldn't make or receive calls, because the normal earpiece and voice-receiver thingy wouldn't work - and I didn't have my actual headset with me. Luckily I was still able to at least send text messages, but the whole episode was very frustrating.

So flight's delayed 2 hours, and I finally get on the plane at 11:30pm. The flight was very turbulent-y, so I didn't sleep much. We get into Newark, NJ five minutes before my connecting flight is supposed to take off. Having missed that flight, I spend an hour in line at the Continental service center - luckily they were able to put me on the next flight to Quebec which only left 2.5 hours later.

I get to Quebec without a hitch, quite a nice flight. HOWEVER, when I try to go through customs, I'm told I need to go talk to immigration, for no apparent reason. I am then detained by the Canadian immigration forces for an hour, as I am questioned about my purpose in Canada, what I will be doing, what I'm carrying...and once I answer all of these things carefully and honestly, "why do you want to do these things? What is your incentive?" Um...because I can? Do you want me to write you an essay?

They eventually asked to see all of my paperwork, including proof of the Watson and my connections to the icebreaker. They call the ship coordinator and the Watson office - as I am put in a waiting room - and eventually determine that I am allowed to be there, but must be issued a "visiter's permit" that says I am not allowed to enroll in a Canadian university. Thanks?

When I asked if there was a problem - really having no idea what set them off, they didn't stop anyone else that was on my plane - they said "we need to decide what kind of permit to give you." Now, maybe I missed something, but I've never heard of needing any kind of permit to visit Canada, unless you're planning on moving there or something. They didn't even look through my luggage, so I don't think I looked like a major security threat. My "interviewer" didn't speak English perfectly, so I don't think she really understood what I was telling her (that's one thing about this Watson business, and my project in particular - it's almost impossible to explain across language barriers).

Once I get over that episode, and it becomes clear that I won't be deported, I make it outside with my 120 lbs of luggage and find that the currency exchange is closed and I'm on the opposite side of the airport than the taxi stand. Finally I find a taxi, driven by an old lady who doesn't speak English - luckily I had the address written down. For such a rough introduction to Canada, I will say this - Quebec is BEAUTIFUL. The weather here is totally perfect right now - maybe a smidge too warm, especially considering I only have pants and sweaters with me, but it is very pretty.

After about a 30 minute drive we get to the heart of downtown Quebec - full of cute old shops, narrow streets, old buildings and a few blocks away from a ton of historic landmarks. A tiny little door at the side of a shop is where I ring for Anna, the woman who I am supposed to be staying with. She and her roomate come down, and after a bit of an awkward introduction (we've never met) we haul my massive luggage up a steep flight of stairs to her apartment, which she shares with 2 other girls. Anna is super wonderful, very friendly and welcoming. She makes me pancakes as I take a shower, which we eat on her balcony - her building is amazing, all wood with old furniture - the place is about 100 years old. After a nap, we walk around old Quebec - I get to see the St. Lawrence river by night, and the parliament, and a ton of other things. The city is very easy to walk around - she usually uses the bus system to travel further, but I will probably walk most places.

I am staying in the room of one of Anna's roomates who just left for vacation. The room is small but just right for me, plus they have beautiful fast internet, a lovely view into the street from the front and a green backlot, and once I get settled I will pretty much be free to do as I please. I have a spot in the kitchen to keep groceries, and will try to get a calling card today.

One other problem - there is much more French here than I expected, and a bit hard to communicate. I wonder if I look like a big stupid American (I certainly look big - I seem to be taller than absolutely everyone I've seen in Quebec so far) and I feel a bit foolish trying to stumble around the French. It is interesting - while I can often understand a decent amount, I absolutely cannot speak it, unless I try to sound out something that's written down, say, on a menu, or mimic something someone's just said. As most of you know, I have problems pronoucing English words, so that doesn't really go very well.

Tasks for today: figure out Canadian money! Buy food! Find calling card! Take photos!

Drum roll, please

It's official: I'm leaving the ol' USA on July 30th. I will be flying out of LAX at 9:55 pm that Sunday evening, flying to a stopover in New Jersey (!) then getting on what appears to be a tiny little plane (considering the seating options I was given) for a short flight to Quebec City arriving at 10:33am.

So - I will be accepting all mailings, well wishes, final complaints, and other business until July 30th, after which I can make no guarentees that I will be able to contact anyone with any sort of ease. I've had the fantastic good fortune to fall in with a young Polish woman, a friend of my advisor, who will be putting me up in Quebec City until the Amundsen actually leaves. So if you are desperate to mail me something, I may be able to receive it at her address between August 1st-15th.

Speaking of the Amundsen...oh my god, drama. After a lot of stress, some complications with my booking has been cleared up, and the long and short of it is I will still be on the ship for the originally planned time period (August 18th-October 19th) except I will only be working for one research team, instead of switching off between two different ones. Let's just say I felt like I was dancing a fine line on a massive international faux pax.

Oh! And speaking of Kugluktuk (where I will be getting off the ship in northern Canada) I booked a hotel for one (1) night where I will stay until I fly back to Quebec to continue on to Iceland to Greenland. This little story should give everyone a good idea of why my financial situation causes me significant stress - one night at this hotel (I use the term loosely) will cost me $200. It is the only hotel in town, barring a 6-person sort of hostel that actually manages to be more expensive. This is not $200 for a resort - I will probably be sharing most facilities (ie, bathroom) with the other guests, etc. If I decide I want to eat without buying my own groceries (which may or may not be marginally cheaper), breakfast in town runs about $20, lunch $25, and dinner $40. This is totally normal for everywhere in the Arctic - probably less expensive than a lot of places. This is why - clearly - I cannot afford to stay in even the simplest hotels for more than a day. Doing this kind of project under the financial bounderies of the Watson (since I'm not exactly rolling in excess funds) has meant that I have spent a lot of time seeking out opportunities for home stays, or things like the icebreaker deal, or any opportunity where I can trade my varied skills for housing.

They don't teach you this stuff in college, kids.

Oh, yah

Indian Paint Brush Flower, Fillmore, CA, USA


In theory, since it's what I've been telling everyone, I'm a photographer. Or I do photography, or am planning on it...whatever. Here's the background: I do digital photography, am self-taught, and take photos of whatever suits my fancy. In China I did a lot of "mother and child" shots, in the past I did a lot of micro-photography with flowers, and I did a bunch of landscape shots. As I've mentioned, this upcoming year will be focused on social organization and cooperation, which is the perfect opportunity for me to take photos of people, doing anything and everything, AND the surrounding environment, including wildlife, landscape, etc. The people change the land, the land forces people to survive in a particular way (ie, cooperation).

In the past I worked with a Nikon Coolpix 750 (which was sadly stolen from me while in China, and is now no longer made) and currently, or most recently, have worked with a Nikon 8700, which I still use - an excellent basic camera. I will be using a Nikon D200 with a Nikkor 18-200mm lens this coming year, a ridiculously cool piece of equipment which defies all logical comprehension. But my trial photos are awesome.

So! Since I am in theory a photographer, and this website should be at least somewhat interesting, here are some photos! May I remind everyone that I have a strict "if you print or use my photos without my permission I will be very upset" policy.


Mother and child in Yuan Yuang, Yunnan Province, China


Reindeer in front of a glacier on Hornsund Fjord, Svalbard, Norway

Wooo!

Excellent news! I got the position on the icebreaker. Looks like I'll be replacing a technician who works with a project on pollution in the Arctic. I'll be doing something with air and water samples. This is super, although I'm a bit nervous that I don't really know what I'm doing. I suppose I will learn, and one of my greatest skills is acting like I know what I'm doing.

So it's off to Quebec for me on July 31st. I'll be hanging out in Quebec until August 15th, when the other people on the project get there and we start working on the ship. The ship actually leaves port around August 18th, and then I'll have a solid two months living at sea. Now, so far, this hasn't phased me one bit - I've never been one for motion sickness and I've spent time on ships before (the Oceania and the Horizont in the waters off Svalbard last summer). But I have distinct memories from childhood of swearing to myself that I would never, ever work or live on a ship. I hated boats, and I'll admit I'm still...deeply distrustful of deep water (which sort of goes hand in hand with my fear of heights). And now taking this job seems like the most awesome thing ever. WE SHALL SEE.

It's not like I'll never see land - I think we stop quite a bit, and get to walk around and visit the local communities. Perfect, really - I'll get to see more of northern Canada than I ever originally thought I would. This is an amazing opportunity in so many ways.

Now I just have to get the guy in Greenland to confirm that they want me to teach...oh, and find somewhere to be in Russia.