Life at Sea – Day 11

16 Nov 2011
2030 UTC

Since my last blog update, we have had two unexpected pirate alarms. A mysterious vessel, which the crew had reason to believe may have originated from the Persian Gulf region, approached us from the starboard side of the ship. After crossing the bow with no radio contact, it turned and headed straight for us. The Captain immediately hit the general alarm aboard the ship. It’s not every day do you wake up to, “MAN YOUR PIRATE STATIONS!!…. this is NOT a drill!!” baring across the loudspeakers. I’m a deep sleeper, and yet, I jumped out of my bunk as if my pants were on fire.

After following our safety protocols to the tee, the vessel turned away but remained nearby. A couple days later, we were greeted by another pirate alarm, but the vessel raised a white flag in an attempt to communicate. In all likelihood, it was nothing more than an innocent fishing boat trying to harvest the fish that were attracted to the light from our oceanographic buoy. Everything is okay. But safety on the high seas in this remote part of the world is no laughing matter, so we have to remain vigilant.

We are now well into the second week of our operations at sea, and both the crew and science team are falling into a steady routine. I have finally started to get used to my 12-hour overnight radar watch. The first few days were rough, adjusting to the time and to the lack of human interaction overnight. But since then, I have connected with the few other poor souls on the ship who also have to work overnights. Since a standard mess hall meal isn’t served in the middle of the night, I am relegated to scavenge for food in the fridge. I typically eat a combination of leftovers and cereal for my midnight lunch.

So far, it feels like I have been out here for months, rather than just 11 days. But during each individual shift, the hours go by really quickly. Having to analyze every 10-minute radar scan and re-program it for a target storm several times each hour, I am keeping pretty busy at the radar screen! Minutes and hours fly by when I am working.

My daily routine involves waking up for our daily science meetings with the Chief Scientist at 1630 local time. As one of only a few meteorologists on the ship, I have been called to help with weather briefings to discuss what weather we should be expecting in the coming days to weeks. It has been rather quiet out here, but that should change in the coming weeks as the MJO heats up by the end of the month (hopefully). After dinner, I start my shift at 1800, which lasts until 0600 the following morning. Working the night shift, I rarely get to see the sun, so I at least try to catch a sunrise or sunset whenever I can.

On some days, I feel like we are living a lifestyle akin to astronauts staying at the International Space Station. Being days away from any landmass and being without normal internet connectivity, we are isolated from the rest of the world both physically and technologically. But at the same time, having a set schedule with no pressing concerns or distractions beyond the boundaries of the ship is somewhat liberating. (We’ll see if I still feel that way in a couple more weeks!)

A few days ago, a NOAA P-3 aircraft flew by us to conduct aerial data collection for DYNAMO. On their passage, they took some aerial photos of our ship and likely scared the living daylights out of the fishing vessel floating near us at the time. Now the vessel knows we mean business!

The NOAA P-3 that performed fly-bys around us (photo courtesy of Derek Coffman):

Our ship as viewed from the NOAA P-3. I control the radar in the big white dome on top of the mast (photos courtesy of Dr. Djamal Khelif):

Yup, it’s a great big ocean out there!

Life at Sea – Day 5

10 Nov 2011
1645 UTC

After a long flight from Honolulu, Hawaii to Phuket, Thailand with a brief layover in Seoul, Korea, I arrived at midnight in the deep tropics – fully jet lagged. I waited a couple hours at the airport to meet Liz, my fellow radar scientist from Colorado State University, before getting shuttled to the Radisson Blu Panwa. The luxury hotel along the beach (reimbursable, of course) was a great way to spend the last few days on land before braving the elements on the high seas. After a day of training aboard the R/V Roger Revelle that was docked at the port, Liz and I took advantage of our final days of freedom by snorkeling, taking a tour of the beautiful Phi Phi Islands by speedboat, eating the best Indian and Thai food known to man, petting elephants, and going to the “Big Buddha” monastery in Phuket. Oh yeah, and I ordered fresh coconut drink whenever I had the opportunity… only 70 Baht for the green, natural goodness from a tropical tree!

On Sunday morning at 1000, Liz and I were shuttled to the port to board the R/V Revelle, our new home for the next 5 weeks. As I walked up the gangway, lugging my Marine Corps sea bag that was given to me by my friend in the Marines who knew about the intricacies of life at sea, the reality of the epic adventure that I was about to begin slowly sank in. I turned in my passport to the 3rd Mate who met me on deck, and I proceeded to a scavenger hunt to find my room – or “berth” as they call it in ship lingo. I soon found out that life on a ship involves learning a new set of vocabulary: “muster” instead of “meet,” “gangway” instead of “ramp,” “mess hall” instead of “dining room,” “chow” instead of “food,” and “scullery” instead of “kitchen sink.”

At 1500 that Sunday afternoon, the bow and stern lines were released, and one long horn blasts followed by three shorter ones announced our departure as we pulled away from shore. Anchors aweigh!

Life on the high seas has been an adventure! I quickly learned to appreciate the finer things in life, like being able to walk down a hallway without running into the walls… or being able to get into and out of bed without having to crawl through only a few inches of space between the bunk and the ceiling. The constant swaying and rocking of the ship as it rides the ocean swells definitely poses some challenges, and I am currently typing this while attempting now to fall off my chair. The seemingly synchronized drunkenness of all the scientists and crew onboard as they try to stay balanced while going about their duties is rather amusing. Doors have to be latched open or closed and locked, to prevent any fingers from getting smashed. Laptops, chairs, and other furniture items have to be bolted and secured. A ping pong table is set up in the main science lab, which makes for some interesting games when the ball decides to have a life of its own in mid-air! Thankfully, I grew my “sea legs” rather quickly and have not suffered any sea sickness. Others have not been quite so fortunate.

With the exception of the chief scientist and the members of the crew who are higher up on the totem pole, most of us live in shared bunks. There are limited laundry facilities on board, and fresh water comes from the desalinators on the ship. “Navy showers” are required to conserve water, and we have to incinerate any non-biodegradable trash. Internet access is extremely limited, and external websites are blocked to save bandwidth. Only an e-mail client works on my laptop, so my only connection with the outside world is through e-mail on a spotty internet connection. If there are any notable news items about the status of the world at large… e-mail me!! Food, thankfully, is remarkably good. We have an excellent pair of chefs onboard, and how they can whip up some great meals while on the fly is amazing to me. There is plenty of variety, including fresh tropical fruits during breakfast.

Although the team of scientists are responsible for their own data collection tasks, I have made an effort to learn about their instruments and unique backgrounds. Living in close quarters with people from all over the country provides plenty of entertainment! I have also gotten to know some members of the crew, all of whom have awesome personalities! A camaraderie similar to that of soldiers or firefighters battling the elements is characteristic of the crew. It is apparent that they have “roughed it” together, and they each understand their responsibilities for themselves and each other. As Matt, the 3rd Mate, said to me on day 1, “communication is key while at sea!” Every person understands his job and responsibilities, and a failure of one person is a failure for the entire group. The Captain and the Chief Engineer (or “Chief,” for short) act like best friends, and they have their designated spots in the mess hall. They eat together and solve problems together. And you are never… NEVER… allowed to take their favorite seats while eating. They are both very friendly, but also make it known when they need time to themselves to take care of their duties as the leaders of this ship. The Captain has the final say in all matters.

As radar scientist, I am in charge of not only the scientific tasks of collecting data on storm structure within 300 km of the ship, but also alerting the bridge to any approaching storms or significant wind shifts while on station. So far, the ship has been in transit to our undisclosed location in the Indian Ocean, so the science team – particularly the oceanographers – has not started full operations. I’ve spent time on the bridge with the Chief Mate and the 3rd Mate, who explained the intricacies of their job standing watch in command of the ship. They work 4 hours on, 8 hours off, 4 hours on, 8 hours off each day. During their off hours, they have other duties around the ship, such as director of operations (Chief Mate), navigation (2nd Mate), and firefighting/safety equipment maintenance (3rd Mate). Safety is a big concern, since being several days away from medical attention inflates the severity of any incident that may occur. At night, we need to get permission from the bridge in order to turn on any white lights on the deck. All operations at night must use red lights so that the person driving the ship can maintain situational awareness of any ships on the horizon that may be dark. Pirates are a huge concern out here, given certain incidents and close-calls in the past. We performed several drills that involved donning gumby suits and simulating man-overboard and abandon-ship procedures with the life rafts. Pirate drills will be performed next week. In case anything happens, a black box records all conversations in the bridge for up to 24 hours.

I was given the go-ahead from the 2nd Mate to start radar operations about 33 hours into the trip when we entered international waters. Since then, I’ve been assigned to work the midnight shift, serving from 1800 to 0600 local time (1200 UTC to 0000 UTC). I am still physically adjusting to these strange hours, so I have been getting pretty tired halfway through my shifts around midnight! The night shift is of course quieter, but there are a handful of other young scientists working similar hours who drop in to visit and break the monotony of my radar scans. I helped Tim, an NCAR technician, launch weather balloons at 1800 UTC the last two nights… my first-ever weather balloon launches!

Overall, I am really enjoying life at sea! Getting used to it has been an adventure in itself, and although I don’t have much free time outside of working (setting radar scans every 10 minutes for 12 hours straight), sleeping, and eating, I’m looking forward to getting to know more of the other scientists and crew members as we continue underway. The sunsets out here are awesome, and seeing the wide expanse of ocean passing under us from the deck or the bridge is such a surreal experience!

To read my daily shift change summaries, click on any of the time links under “TOGA operations summary” here:

http://catalog1.eol.ucar.edu/cgi-bin/dynamo/report/index

The R/V Revelle at port in Phuket:

My radar office:

Awesome sunset over the Indian Ocean as seen from the bridge:

DYNAMO

A year and a half ago, as I traveled across the rolling prairies of Oklahoma and Kansas in search of tornadoes during the VORTEX2 field experiment, I would not have guessed that my meteorological adventures would soon take me to the equatorial Indian Ocean. In just a few hours, I will be boarding my flight to Phuket, Thailand, with a brief layover in Seoul, South Korea, to begin my scientific data-gathering adventure that will involve land, air, and sea. I will be serving as a radar scientist aboard the R/V Roger Revelle as part of the international field experiment called DYNAMO, which is short for the “Dynamics of the Madden-Julian Oscillation (http://www.eol.ucar.edu/projects/dynamo/).”

The Madden-Julian Oscillation (MJO) is a weather phenomena that routinely affects the global atmospheric circulation on monthly timescales, consisting of a large mass of thunderstorms that develops near the equatorial Indian Ocean and eastern Africa. These storms progress eastward, and the MJO is manifested as a global anomalous circulation that affects weather all around the globe (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MJO). But how and why do these storms initiate over that part of the world? What are the conditions that cause such a periodic event to happen? Is there anything special about the convection that is found over the equatorial Indian Ocean during an active MJO phase? What are the mechanisms that allow the MJO to influence weather around the world? DYNAMO will help shed light on the mystery that surrounds the MJO.

Teams of scientists from all over the world have convened in the equatorial Indian Ocean, with air, land, and sea instruments being deployed simultaneously to collect much-needed data. I will be joining the Colorado State University crew aboard the R/V Roger Revelle, which is a world-class research ship run by the Scripps Institute of Oceanography and owned by the U.S. Navy (http://shipsked.ucsd.edu/ships/roger_revelle/photos.php). Shipboard assignments are divided into 5 week periods, and my shift beginning this week will be the 3rd cruise of this project.

I will try to write periodic updates on this blog to describe the progress of my adventures at sea, but given the limited internet bandwidth while aboard the ship, updates may only be sporadic. But for those who are interested, publicly available real-time data from DYNAMO will be streamed on various websites (http://johnson.atmos.colostate.edu/dynamo/products/satellite/index.php), and the TOGA radar that I will be operating will transmit an image every 30 minutes via the internet (http://radarmet.atmos.colostate.edu/dynamo/). Live photos from the Revelle can be found here (http://rtapps.ucsd.edu/hiseasnet/rtship/index.php?ship=revelle) and here (http://rtapps.ucsd.edu/rtimbank/rtimbank.php?camera=SIO_Revelle_Axis3).

Tribute to Bro. Harold Estes

Yesterday afternoon was one of those moments when American men and women of all races and backgrounds come together to pay tribute to a fellow comrade much loved, but no longer in our midst. It was one of those moments, when a crowd gathered to participate in the most human of endeavors, to reflect on a life well lived. It was one of those moments, when brothers put aside their differences to remember the legacy of one of their own. It was one of those moments, when I was especially proud to say, “I am a Mason, and I am an American.”

As I entered the hallowed ground of Pearl Harbor and walked through the rows of American flags, I boarded the USS Missouri, guarded by U.S. Navy sailors clad in their dress whites. Hundreds of other Naval sailors and officers gathered on the deck of the legendary battleship, accompanied by an equal number of friends, guests, and Masons. We had assembled to reflect, to remember, and to pray for a fellow serviceman and brother, who has passed on to the celestial lodge above.

Bro. Harold Estes (12/13/1914 – 5/17/2011) was born in Oklahoma, and at the age of 19, he enlisted in the U.S. Navy and served on many ships and shore stations around the world. After retiring from service on June 15, 1955 as a Chief Boatswain’s Mate, he devoted the rest of his life to volunteerism. He stayed active with service to the Navy, while also contributing greatly to Rotary International and the Freemasons. He was instrumental in the success of the Honolulu Council of the Navy League of the United States and was responsible for making the USS Bowfin Submarine Museum & Park and Battleship Missouri Memorial a reality at Pearl Harbor Historic Sites. Bro. Estes was promoted by ADM Gary Roughead in 2007 to the honorary rank of Pacific Fleet Command Master Chief, and Gov. Rick Perry of Texas promoted him to the honorary rank of Admiral of the Texas Navy. Bro. Estes is remembered as a man devoted to cheerful service of others.

The Masons, clad in our dark suits and white aprons, took our seats toward the front of the audience, flanked by rows of sailors seated behind us. Then, alternating horn blasts resonated from the Naval ships docked on the other side of Pearl Harbor, signaling the beginning of the solemn event. The National Sojourners presented the colors, and we pledged our allegiance to the flag. Several dignitaries and close friends of Bro. Estes gave their eulogies, with moments of reflection supplemented with anecdotes of Bro. Estes’ devotion to selfless service to his community, his country, and his fellow brothers.

The U.S. Pacific Fleet Band Quintet preformed “America the Beautiful” – a song that never fails to conjure in my mind the scenes of the many places I’ve lived in this great country, from the shores of the Atlantic, to the gorges of upstate New york; from the rolling prairies of Oklahoma, to the golden mountains of Colorado. With this sonorous music, under the setting sun, ‘neath the Star-Spangled Banner waving, half-mast, I remembered my friends and brothers who are currently serving in Iraq and Afghanistan and shed a tear for all who have given the ultimate sacrifice, regardless of politics or religion. I silently asked myself this question, which First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt kept on a piece of paper in her pocket throughout World War II and is now inscribed on a plaque at the shore of Pearl Harbor:

Dear Lord, Lest I continue, My complacent way, Help me to remember, Somehow out there, A man died for me today. As long as there be war, I then must, Ask and answer, Am I worth dying for?

Most Worshipful Monty Glover and Very Reverend John Connell took to the podium in ancient and proper Masonic form and delivered the most solemn eulogy of the evening, from time immemorial. By the evergreen sprig and the emblem of innocence of the lambskin apron, we bid farewell to a friend and a brother. He now challenges us to walk our journey with his same level of integrity and devotion to brotherly love, relief, and truth.

Bro. Stewart Cowan introduced the Masonic funeral rites and shared this poem, on behalf of Bro. Estes:

When I come to the end of the road
And the sun has set for me
I want no tears in a gloom-filled room.
Why cry for a soul set free?

Miss me a little – but not too long
And not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that we once shared
Miss me – but let me go.

For this is a journey that we all must take
And each must go alone.
It’s all part of the Master’s plan
A step on the road to home.

When you are lonely and sick of heart
Go to the friends we know
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds
Miss me – but let me go.

–by Bro. Edgar Guest (1881-1959)

After the presentation of the Old Glory detail, a rifle salute, and the performance of echo taps, the ashes of Bro. Estes were escorted via the Change of the Watch ceremony. This sacred tradition of the U.S. Navy concluded the solemn commemoration.

As the sailors and Masons gathered on the deck of the USS Missouri for one last exchange of tradition and brotherly love, amid warm smiles and welcoming handshakes, a glorious double rainbow appeared over the harbor. It grew to become the brightest and most colorful rainbow I had ever seen, stretching in an unbroken semi-circle from one end of Pearl Harbor to the other. It faded only after the parking area was vacated and the guests had left the premises. Perhaps someone was smiling from on high?

Looking across the harbor one last time, at the tugboat standing watch over the Navy ships docked along the shore, I stood on the deck for a moment of silent reflection. The historical significance of that location was not lost amidst the tranquility of the scene. The characteristic smell of the ship’s quarters, the flag fluttering above where the USS Arizona still laid, the cool breeze, and the gentle ripples on the water served as a silent eulogy to a time long lost, but never forgotten. As with all things, the passing sand grains of the hourglass carries us from one moment to another, and even Mighty Mo is now at rest, to serve all those who may humbly reflect. At that moment, the spirit of friendship and camaraderie was fully manifested, and we departed underneath the watch of the colorful arc across the canopy of heaven.

So mote it be.

Brother Harold, I regret that I never had the opportunity to meet you. But those peaceful smiles, emotional tears, and heartfelt memories shared tonight by hundreds of your friends, from the youngest toddler to the eldest grandmother in the audience, spoke volumes about who you were – your integrity, fortitude, and compassion. I am happy that you have journeyed successfully on your road to home. We now humbly walk in your footsteps.

I salute you, my brother.

————

Local news article about the event, including video clip:

http://www.khon2.com/news/local/story/Memorial-service-honors-veteran-and-Navy-League/UaNtQbA-MEK_m8_f-6sloA.cspx

I’m back… after a “Journey on the Level”

After creating this blog back in December 2010, a period of half a year went by without any posts. Of course, that defeats the purpose of having a blog in the first place, so what happened (besides by always-limited amount of free time)? Well, unbeknownst to me at the time of my first post, all the free time for my writing endeavors would be devoted to a new book project soon after the creation of this blog.

Have you ever had those nights when you can’t fall asleep because your head is just spinning with ideas coming out of every corner of your brain? I had one of those nights this past winter just prior to Christmas.

As a member of the Freemasons, a fraternity dedicated to the ideals of democracy, liberty, religious tolerance, ethics, and self-improvement (not the crazy, stupid myths that you see online or on TV), I have long been involved in philosophical conversations with friends from around the country with different socioeconomic backgrounds. Through these discussions, I found that my generation is interested not so much in divisive politics or religious dogma, but rather, an outlook on life that involves an element of philosophical thinking that embodies self-improvement in a way that transcends artificial boundaries imposed by tradition, culture, and doctrine. In other words, there is a search for what unites, rather than divides us as a people – one nation, under God.  Howsoever the term “God” would like to be inferred – from a concrete persona of a human-like creator to an abstract idea of collective consciousness – is completely up to each individual.

During my bout of insomnia, my mind was flooded with a desire to write down all of the inspirational ideas, quotes, and thoughts that I had collected during my philosophical discussions with friends over the course of the last couple years. I grabbed a piece of paper, and after 30 minutes of mad scribbling, I found myself staring at – remarkably – an outline for my next book. It would be titled, Journey on the Level.

Why journey? Because that is exactly what life is – no more, no less. We are travelers on the plane of time, moving from experience to experience, place to place, lesson to lesson. Why “on the level?” Because we are traveling this journey together as a people. The ideas of me vs. you, us vs. them, and this vs. that, are ideas of yesterday, not ideas that can carry us forward to tomorrow. In this era of globalization, there is no room for prejudice if we ourselves want to succeed, be it on a personal or national level.

After several months of work and the tireless support of a few friends and family members – and sacrificing much of my free time on the weekends, I am pleased to say that Journey on the Level is now available for sale at all bookstores, including Amazon. However, I am personally offering free domestic U.S. shipping on all orders placed through the book website, which includes a more detailed description: http://www.JourneyOnTheLevel.com

Now that this book project is complete, I look forward to resuming my periodic posts to this blog!

And so, it begins!

After much deliberation and some repeated prodding by family and friends to write down some of my thoughts, I have decided to start a blog. Besides Facebook, I have never been too fond of all the latest crazies in social media (yeah, don’t see myself shooting off Tweets anytime soon), but since I like writing and have gotten positive feedback, I have decided to give this whole blogging thing a shot. If nothing else, I figure it would be interesting a few years down the road to look back and see where my mind has traveled through time.

For those who know me well, I have many interests that seem to have nothing in common. I am a meteorologist and scientist by trade and a philosopher at heart. I am a student, a teacher, a musician, a businessman, a naturalist, a Zen practitioner, a storm chaser, an author, a backpacker, a classical pianist, a photographer, an outdoorsman, a Freemason, a poet, a mathematician, a trumpeter, a sailor …an explorer. And yet, I realize the futility of all of these adjectives, these words, these concepts, in describing any individual. As the clock ticks by, all these words become superficial, as all things must change in the winds of time.

Rather than playing with adjectives, life transcends concepts and is ever changing. So, I prefer to think of myself as a traveler – a traveler on a journey that leads to meaningful discoveries of the world around me, of myself, and of my fellow travelers. And so, this blog will attempt to capture moments in the theme of life that I have often expressed:

Life is a perpetual dream, a fragile bubble in the sky, an ephemeral ripple on the sea, a speck of dust in the universe. Yet life is an adventure, waiting to be discovered down every path, under every boulder, across every river, atop every mountain. I live to be challenged. I challenge myself to live. The world is my trail. My mind, my treasure map.

So why the title, “Untamed Skies?” Well, besides the fact that it is a reference to my personal website: www.UntamedSkies.com, it is as much a symbolic as it is a literal descriptor of the nature of life. The weather cannot be tamed. Try as we might, we cannot fully control the forces of nature, as we are ultimately crucial components of that same nature. Scientists have made discoveries, and engineers have invented the most ingenious ways to help humanity conquer the odds and cope with our environment. Yet, the essence of nature itself cannot be tamed. Isn’t this exactly how our lives work each and every day? We cannot control what happens to us, but we can always control how we respond to each circumstance. To try to assert control over something in which we have no control is to be childish. But, to take control when confronted with the choice of how we should best respond to a given situation in a compassionate, selfless way is to be honorable. “Fate cannot be changed; otherwise it would not be fate,” said Viktor Frankl. “Man, however, may well change himself, otherwise he would not be man.”

Finally, since I am entirely indebted to my family, friends, and colleagues who have supported, encouraged, and inspired me over the years, this blog is dedicated to them. Thank you for who you are and all that you have done. The contents of this blog that capture my thoughts on life ultimately would not be possible if it weren’t for you and the integral of all of your influences on my mental and physical being. You know who you are.

Some of my best friends who are currently keeping blogs with meaningful messages are linked to the right. Please take some time to see what they have to share as well!

As Rudyard Kipling commanded:

Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the ranges – something lost behind the ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go!

So come, let’s go check out what’s behind that waterfall! Don’t forget your camera.

Moment of reflection above cloud line on a summit climb of Mauna Loa, the world's largest volcano on the Big Island of Hawai'i. The caldera of another active volcano, Kilauea, can be seen smoldering in the background.