For the complete coverage, we are going to our friend and colleague at Pacific Science Center, Alice Enevoldsen. Alice works at Pacific Science Center, and writes a blog called AstroInfo in which she answers astronomical questions from Pacific Science Center staff, and highlight interesting goings-on in the world of astronomy.

In her most recent post, she explains how Around the Americas now has a presence on Mars. You can read more of her posts here, and her post on Mars is below.

From Alice:

What does Around the Americas have to do with Mars?

Well, nothing. But Dr. Amy Knudson from the Planetary Science Institute was volunteering with Pacific Science Center during the exhibit Facing Mars, and she works with the Mars Exploration Rovers doing soil analysis among other things. She was asking if we had recommendations for naming little things on Mars. The names had to be nautical, so I told her about Around the Americas and Ocean Watch. A few weeks later she returned, telling us that she’d proposed the name for one of the patches of soil she was analyzing and it had been accepted!

She’s just sent me some photos of Ocean Watch on Mars as taken by Opportunity (also known as Mars Exploration Rover B). She is continuing to name other soils and rocks after Around the Americas’ ports of call.

Show Me the Dirt*!

Opportunity took this picture on Sol 2225 (martian day 2225) with its panoramic camera. This image is approximately true color, and shows a small impression where Opportunity’s instrument rested during the soil analysis.

Nothing has been released about the analysis of this soil yet – so your best guess about that texture is just great. Be the scientist – what do you think those “bubbles” are? Are they depressions or spheres? Are they hard? Soft? Are they just shapes in the sand that are easily disrupted or are they harder? Look at how they are different when they’ve been pressed by the instrument. Does that help you determine what they’re like? What might have caused them?

Using the microscopic imager Opportunity took a close up picture of the soil before deploying the “IDD” – the “Instrument Deployment Device” – also known as the arm.

Using the microscopic imager Opportunity took another close up picture of the soil AFTER deploying the arm. You can see where the instrument rested in the upper right of the picture. Some of the little bubbles or depressions are flattened, and others have been entirely squished.

Naming on Mars

If you follow the rover missions you’ll have heard of rocks and landforms on Mars named things like “Chocolate Hills,” “Concepcíon,” “Columbia Hills,” “Endurance,” or “Jenny.” Naming of objects in the solar system has to go through the International Astronomical Union (IAU), which can take years. In order to stay sane and not constantly have to say to each other “let’s take a look at that rock” or “shall we drive to crater 001-5BX?” the technicians and scientists working with the Mars rovers assign their own names to these items. Ocean Watch is such a name. I find it likely that many of these names will stick – having been used for years by the time the IAU has time to choose official names – but some will be changed, and some are of locations too small for anyone to care about once the rover has driven on. Ocean Watch is a very small patch of soil (about 1/4 of a square meter), so who knows what will happen.

For now though, a little patch of a distant planet holds a name that reminds us of the fragility of our own planet, and honors the excitement of doing science and science outreach.

Want More?

More information about this soil will eventually be posted in the MER Analyst’s Notebook.

* Technically, I wouldn’t use the word “dirt” because that tends to imply organic content … but, forgive me this time.

Thank you, Amy.

And thank you, Alice, for helping bring a little of the Around the Americas mission to interplanetary levels!

- Around the Americas Education Team

Reflections on a Voyage of Discovery
By Roxanne Nanninga

As the first fingers of light began reaching over the gray sea on the morning of our approach to Santa Barbara, I sat crouched in a ball to stay warm against the cold wind, and considered the journey that had brought me this far. From the Christmas fireworks and apprehension in Punta del Este, Uruguay, through mastery of a curriculum in two languages and a respectable amount of blue water sailing for a complete novice, I decided I’ve come a long way, not just in miles but also as a teacher and as an individual seeking to understand the great scope of our Earth’s environment and its people.

The crew of Ocean Watch and I all seem to agree that the people we’ve met along the way have been what’s made this ambitious project so worthwhile. The kids I have met need no convincing that our ocean is precious and deserves protecting. It’s not just the students, however. Parents, teachers, sailors, and scientists alike expressed gratitude to us for bringing awareness to such critical issues as climate change, ocean acidification, plastics pollution, and a basic understanding of the oceans and its life-giving processes.

These human interactions have often been very brief but that’s all it takes to make an impression. In Uruguay we received an invitation to a home-cooked Christmas dinner. In Chile, where there seemed to be the greatest abundance of kind and helpful people, very early on the morning of my arrival, I bonded with an immigration officer over our shared frustrations with US Visa policies.  There were taxi drivers in Peru who shared with me their authentic sentiments of love for their country, and sometimes disgust, too, offering rare insight to a foreigner. There have been teachers; port authorities; yacht club presidents; library and aquarium staff; random people who saw the website or the news and wanted to be involved; and many, many others who have gone out of their way to help us accomplish our mission or just make our lives away from home more comfortable.  Without them this trip would have had no meaning.

There have also been many non-human encounters that have shaped my experience, the biggest being the sea itself. Dark and formidable, the open ocean is a humbling place. My first memorable night at sea was crossing the mouth of Rio de la Plata in Argentina. An eerie glow from distant Buenos Aires sat on the horizon offering no sense of comfort in the shadowy night, the clouds sometimes parting to reveal a nearly full moon. The glow was echoed on the surrounding phosphorescent-tinged whitecaps. The effect gave me the creeps and I remember counting the minutes until morning.

Fortunately, that feeling eventually passed and I came to appreciate the night watches, especially on a clear, star-lit night.  Others who have spent time at sea know that the skies there are unmatched. The immensity of space that spans both above and below where you sit is a great reminder of our human frailty. In the Southern Hemisphere you could even peer into a neighboring galaxy known as the Magellenic Clouds, or Clusters.  However, just as I would start to believe we were alone on the sea, a dolphin, whale, or bird would come along to disrupt the illusion and remind me of the entire teeming world of life just below the surface.

As you may guess, spending time on a small vessel or in foreign countries with just a few other travelers affords many opportunities to get to know one another in a way not generally possible. The crew of Ocean Watch is a select and accomplished group, whom I have enjoyed getting to know immensely. I have heard Mark refer to his crew as family and with all they have been through and the time spent together through fortune, dysfunction, and understanding I can think of no better term for it. Being one of the few females to take part in this dynamic gives me a unique perspective on it as well. I would like to take a moment to comment on what I have appreciated and learned from each one of them.

From the beginning, Captain Mark Schrader has been warm and welcoming, inviting me into this strange and exclusive world of sailors. His determination is impressive; he was always doing whatever it takes to get where we had to be safely and as on time as possible, which is no small feat.  His passion for ocean stewardship is what has pressed this project forward since its conception, and his desire for perfection has urged us all to do our best work and to stay focused on why we are here: to bring eyes and ears to the plight of our oceans and inspire people to take action to protect it in their respective parts of the Americas.

First mate Dave Logan has been the oil in what makes the entire engine of Around the Americas run smoothly. Purposely understated, Dave often rejects praise for his accomplishments but we all know we wouldn’t have made it around without his hard work and expertise.  Additionally, he has been an essential help with the educational programs, having acted as my “lovely assistant” on many occasions, leading boat tours, setting up banners, sails and our traveling expedition tent, and enchanting both adults and children with his stories and quiet sense of humor.

Our writer is Herb McCormick, whom many of you may feel you know best through his daily logs to the web, which have given voice to this mission and have taught many profound things through his subtle stories. Herb has also provided the salty attitude and humor needed to keep the trip fun. His call-it-as-I-see-it commentary is alternately poignant and hilarious. On one occasion he even agreed to run a writer’s workshop for a hundred thirteen-year-olds at the Yacht Club in Lima. Despite his initial nervousness (yes, the ever-cool Herb McCormick does, in fact, get nervous on occasion) his contributions were a true highlight to the day’s event and I was grateful for it.

David Thoreson, our photographer, has given Around the Americas its face and context with his stunning imagery taken along the entire expedition. His ubiquitous presence at events happening at sea or in port has given us a thoroughly documented voyage and makes me wonder if he ever really sleeps. He was, however, the only one who could convince me to sleep on my first anxious night at sea. Always happy to share his candid opinion, he has proven also to be a great listener and his support was a great comfort to me throughout the journey.

Though Dr. Michael Reynolds was not a part of the core crew, I think he has been along for enough of it to be counted as an honorary member.  He has not only kept us focused on the scientific discovery of this mission but has also helped remind us all to relax a little. Never flustered, Michael would carry on with his science in the background no matter what other chaos had ensued. He offered interesting and humorous tidbits on watch and kept me on my toes by finding hats, cameras, and other items the sometimes absent-minded professor would leave behind. Still, we owe a great deal of our credibility to him.

There were of course many others I have had the pleasure of traveling with along the way. Though I can’t mention them all by name here, each one helped enrich my time with this voyage. Thanks to all of you.

I think I speak for all of us when I say it will take a considerable amount of time to fully process the experiences we’ve had with the project and sometimes lifestyle called Around the Americas. I have learned a great deal and given much of myself. And I feel grateful.

- News from the Ship: Ocean Watch just left the Galápagos Islands after a week of learning and exploration. Read more about their explorations on the islands.
- Q&A: Every week we answer questions from classes all around the Americas. See if questions from your class are answered this week.
- Shore Crew Action for the Day: Each week we’ll post an activity for you, your family or your class to do. This week learn more about ecosystems and animals.
- Conclusion: Use the “submit comments” window to post questions from your class for the Ocean Watch team, ideas for an activity, questions for other classrooms, or to respond to any of this post!

If you have:
5-10 minutes this week, read News from the Ship, Q&A section, and submit a question of your own!
~45 minutes, add on the activity and build a food web!

Welcome Aboard!

News from the ship:

The Ocean Watch crew just spent a whole week in the Galápagos. The Galápagos is a collection of islands on the Equator about 600 miles west of Ecuador. These island are volcanic, and the Galápagos include 15 big islands and 3 smaller islands. Many of the people who live in the Galápagos live in Puerto Ayora, on Isla Santa Cruz, and this is where the Ocean Watch crew was during their stay.

While in the Galápagos the crew of Ocean Watch met with local scientists to learn more about the islands, and explored on hikes, bikes, and scuba diving. In fact, while exploring the islands writer Herb McCormick met some of the island’s most famous inhabitants, the giant tortoises. The tortoises are such a part of the history of the islands that the Galápagos were even named after them, but “Galápagos” doesn’t mean tortoise. Instead, the word Galapago in the old Spanish language was used to describe the frontal piece of a riding saddle, which has the same shape as the tortoise shell. (The Galápagos Islands have also been called the Enchanted Islands because they often times disappeared into the fog and sailing ships could not find them!)

Herb sent us this letter all about seeing the tortoises. The pictures at the end were all taken by David Thoreson, the photographer on Ocean Watch.

Greetings from the Galápagos Islands!

If you ever come to the Galápagos Islands, a “must-see” is a trip to the Charles Darwin Research Station in Puerto Ayoro on Isla Santa Cruz, where you can take a good, close look at the gargantuan tortoises. So the other morning, on a searing hot day, I rented a bike, peddled up to the station, wandered down a path of crushed lava rocks, slipped through a gate, and looked one old, leathery fella square in the eye.

Even I can tell a saddleback tortoise when I’m placed directly in front of one – they’re the kind with the notched, saddle-shaped shell and the long neck and legs – and this one was a beauty. With his bald pate, piercing peepers and reptilian hide, he looked like a cross between the crazy uncle on The Addams Family and something out of a bad horror movie. He probably had at least fifty years on me, which put his age well over 100 years old. If one looks back at the history of Galápago stortoises, this one is probably lucky to be around.

Author Godfre Merlen wrote a great book we’ve been reading on this trip that tells the history of the island’s tortoises, and I’m going to share parts of it with you. He starts by describing how many years ago the tortoises lived all over the islands:

“They not only succeeded in establishing themselves on dry, low islands, but on high, moist ones as well. Tough as the land they lived upon, their scaly feet withstood the harsh, rocky ground. Strong, curved, knife-like mouths allowed them to feed upon the spiny cactus and acacias when all other vegetation was dry and leafless through the lack of rain. Above all, their slow metabolic rate permitted them to beat the (occasional) droughts… Living at a low ebb in the shade of caves and rocky crevices, they remained like stones through months of blasting heat, when the soil turned to dust. When the rains finally came, the great animals eased out of their slumbers and rocky recesses and lumbered off to feast in a fresh and vitalized world, now leafy and green.

“How many tortoises were there? No one knows, yet there is no doubt that there were many thousands – even hundreds of thousands. Some say a million.”

And then…there weren’t. We’ve learned that the big saddleback and dome-backed turtles were prized by the crews of the whaling ships that used the islands as a base in the Pacific hundreds of years ago. Sailors captured the tortoises alive and stored them in the holds of their ships; the turtles could live a long time without food or water, and weighing up to 500 pounds each they provided the sailors a large and long lasting supply of delicious “sweet meat.” This would ensure the whalers a supply of fresh meat during their long voyages, and crews would stack their holds with literally hundreds of turtles. A cargo of three hundred turtles or more was not unusual. Aboard one ship, the Niger, a misplaced turtle lost in the water casks was discovered two years later, fresh and ready for the table. In 1846 alone, there were 735 ships in the Pacific fleet, and aboard every ship there were dozens of hungry sailors. And they all loved their turtle.

They took them by the tens of thousands. They almost loved them to extinction.

Later, it wasn’t the men on the boats that endangered the turtles, but what they’d brought with them and introduced to the islands: pigs, dogs, donkeys, cattle and goats. Some were predators, raiding nests in search of food; others were competitors for the sparse vegetation. For the tortoises, all of them were extreme hazards to their long-term health and survival.

The population of the tortoises is changing again because of humans, but this time increasing. In 1964, the Charles Darwin Research Station was established and in the years since, thousands of giant tortoises have been bred and/or raised in captivity at the center’s captive breeding center, and returned to their natural habitat. The ancient character I encountered at the station had obviously lived long and prospered, and it was amazing to see these animals up close!

-      Herb

P.S. Check out the pictures my friend and crew mate David Thoreson took of the tortoises, and some of the other animals we saw on the islands!

Open the below photos in a full-screen slideshow in Flickr

Questions to the Crew:

Every week we answer questions from classes all around the Americas. See if questions from your class are answered this week!

These two questions are from Ms. Messer’s students in the Falkland Islands, and both are answered by Mark Schrader, Captain of Ocean Watch. These two questions are all about one of the important animals Ocean Watch has encountered on their trip, and how the animals are connected to other animals in the ecosystem.

Q: What do jellyfish eat?
A: Jellyfish eat or ‘graze’ on common phytoplankton and small zooplankton floating around in the water, moved by currents largely controlled by sea temperature.  Depending upon the type of jelly, they have complex mouth structures to capture other gelatinous prey, or they have various styles of mucous nets to snare food as it floats by.  Many species have long, sticky and/or stinging tentacles used to immobilize and capture food.  Because jellies have a low carbon density (they are typically 95% water) their metabolic rate is very low, meaning they can withstand long periods without food.  During ‘low food’ periods they will shrink in size, reversing that process when food is abundant.

Q: Why would having a jellyfish over-population affect our seas?
A: Some scientists studying gelatinous animals, or jellies, as jellyfish are called, believe they may be an important ‘indicator species.’  Jellies are highly dependent on temperature and current for food and transportation.  When ocean temperatures, currents and atmospheric pressures change, the impact on jellies can be quick and significant.  Changes in fish population also seem to have a causal connection to increased or decreased jellyfish populations.  Because of these apparent relationships scientists are interested in studying the migratory trends, the habitat and distribution, of jellyfish populations.  As a result of the predatory or grazing activities of gelatinous animals, big ecosystem shifts can happen in a matter of days over a very large area and these rapid changes are of interest to scientists.

If you or your class has a question for the crew, put it in the comment field at the end of this post, then check back next week to see if your question is answered!

Shore Crew Action for the Day:

The crew of Ocean Watch spent a lot of time in the Galápagos looking at and learning about animals, and there were a lot of animals to look including flamingos, penguins, sea lions, tortoises and iguanas. In fact, the Galápagos is home to a very unique ecosystem.  The word ecosystem comes from “eco” meaning environment or ecology, and “system” which is a collection of parts interacting together. An ecosystem involves the living things, like plants and animals, and the non-living things like soil, rocks, and water in an area.

In this activity you can create a food web and learn more about some of the animals the crew of Ocean Watch have seen in their travels, and how these animals interconnect in their ecosystems.

To get started, download the activity. (Note: the activity write-up suggests you create the food web using stuffed animals. Instead of using stuffed animals you can download and print images of the animals instead! Chose from animals found in the arctic, temperate, or sub-tropic zones. (All three sets of images are a PowerPoint format; you can print them as slides (each image will print as a full page, 8.5 x 11 inches), or you can print as “handouts” (resulting in up to 6 smaller images on a single page).

Do and Share:

See your food web on this website when you email a picture of it to education@aroundtheamericas.org.

Conclusion:

Add a comment to this post by clicking on the comment link below the post title. In this comments field you can ask the Around the Americas team questions, and check back to see if your question was answered in next week’s post. You can also send us ideas for an activity, answers from your science notebook, or questions you have for other classrooms that are part of the Shore Team!

Resources:

This activity is part of the online activities for Around the Americas. Check out our additional activities on topics about acidification, underwater sound, and fishing, and read background information about food webs.

Read more about the history of the Galápagos:  http://www.lonelyplanet.com/ecuador/the-galapagos-islands/history

The book Herb mentioned by Godfre Merlen is called Restoring the Tortoise Dynasty: The Decline and Recovery of the Galapagos Giant Tortoise.

The Charles Darwin Foundation is where Herb saw the tortoises, and met with local scientists, including Stuart Banks, who joined our online class. Thank you Stuart!

We’ll see you next week!

Contents:

- News from the Ship: Ocean Watch set sail from Seattle and just arrived in the Galapagos Islands- but they took the long way there! Read about their exciting journey so far.
- Q&A: Every week we answer questions from classes all around the Americas. Today we answer questions about how this trip got started. See if questions from your class are answered this week.
- Shore Crew Action for the Day: Each week we’ll post an activity for you, your family or your class to do. This week learn how to start your own science notebook to follow the Around the Americas expedition.
-  Do and Share: After you make your own science notebook, send us a picture!
- Conclusion: You are welcome to put in the comments section: questions from your class for the Ocean Watch team, ideas for an activity, questions for other classrooms, or to respond to any of today’s post!

Teachers:- if you have:
5-10 minutes this week, share with your class the News from the Ship, Q&A section, and have your class submit a question of their own!
~45 minutes, add on the activity

Welcome Aboard!

News from the ship:

Note to teachers: as you go share this with your class, follow along on a map or globe.

Hello! It’s been big last year for the entire crew of Ocean Watch.  Ocean Watch left Seattle, Washington on May 31, 2009. After leaving Seattle, Ocean Watch sailed sailed north to Alaska, and went east through the Northwest Passage and the Canadian Arctic. After making it through the passage, the crew went south down the east coast of Canada, the United States, and South America. They sailed around the southern tip of Chile called Cape Horn in January, and are sailing north, up the west coast of South America. They just stopped this week in the Galapagos Islands and the final stop on their entire trip will be Seattle in June 2010!

But they are doing a lot more than just sailing. There are several science experiments on Ocean Watch, allowing the crew and scientists to learn more about our oceans. They are studying jellyfish, clouds, sea water quality and they even deployed three buoys in the Arctic to measure the currents.

Questions to the Crew:

Every week we answer questions from classes all around the Americas. See if questions from your class are answered this week!

These first two questions are from Ms. Messer’s students in the Falkland Islands, and both are answered by Mark Schrader, Captain of Ocean Watch:

Q: Why did you choose to explore the world?
A: Because the world is a fascinating place.  The ocean connects all of us, no matter where we live.  It is a fantastic and free highway leading to interesting people and places.  I grew up on a farm in the middle of our country (in Nebraska) but when I was old enough to learn about how the early explorers discovered the ‘world’ and sailed to different places I became fascinated with the idea of the ocean as a highway, open to all who cared to learn how to navigate its surface.  My interest was more about exploring the ocean rather than exploring the world.

Q: Why did you choose a yacht to do this trip rather than a bigger science vessel?
A: The choice of vessel was made for two primary reasons.  As a crew we are sailors, and we have enjoyed sailing smaller boats all over the world so the choice to look for a strong sailing vessel capable of safely carrying a crew of six or eight for thousands of miles was a natural one.  Secondly, big ships are very expensive to own, operate or charter.  Large vessels need lots of expensive fuel and require a much larger crew.  Using as little fossil fuel as possible to accomplish our mission is important to us.

This question is from Ms. White’s 5th grade class in Halifax, Nova Scotia:

Q: Did the earthquake and tsunami in Chile last month impact Ocean Watch?
A: Ocean Watch was in a yacht club in Valparaiso, Chile during its stay. They left Valparaiso and sailed towards Lima, Peru just 2 days before the earthquake. This meant the boat and crew were sailing when the earthquake and tsunami occurred. Because they were at sea they didn’t feel the earthquake, and the tsunami did go past them when they were sailing. A tsunami wave at sea is very low- often times just a foot above normal sea levels- this isn’t noticed at all when sailing. When the tsunami reaches shallower waters near shore the waves get closer together, slow down, and get much taller; this is when a tsunami can be dangerous. The yacht club Ocean Watch had been anchored at in Valparaiso did have some damage, and a lot of the boats that were there were damaged too, but since Ocean Watch was at sea they didn’t feel the tsunami at all. In fact, they didn’t even know that there was an earthquake or a tsunami until friends and family emailed them.

If your class has a question for the crew, put it in the comment field at the end of this post, then check back next week to see if your question is answered!

Shore Crew Action for the Day:

Open the below photos in a full-screen slideshow in Flickr

As Ocean Watch travels up the west coast and back to Seattle, you can follow along and be part of our Shore Crew! Part of sailing and science is keeping a log, notebook, or journal.  Scientists keep a science notebook in the lab and in the field; it’s a place to record what they see, questions they have, how an experiment is set up, and the data they collect. On Ocean Watch not just the scientist keeps a notebook, but a lot of other people do too. The whole crew helps keep a sailing notebook, called the ship’s log; in this book each day the crew records the boat’s speed, direction and location, notes about the weather including the temperature, wind speed and direction, and information about the crew.

Why is it called a ship’s log? A long time ago, before there were watches, GPS, or speedometers to measure speed, sailors still needed to figure out how fast they were sailing in order to figure out where they were. To determine their speed early sailors would throw a piece of wood, or a log, overboard from the front of the boat. This log would have a long string attached, and as the log would float in one spot in the water the ship would sail past, and the sailors would time how long it would take for a certain length of the string to get pulled out from the spool; this would tell them the ship’s speed. Because this “log” would be used to determine the ship’s speed, the book where this information was keep became the “log book”. Even though ships don’t use a piece of wood to measure their speed today, the book is still called a logbook.

To be an official “Ocean Watcher” you can make your own notebook to use as you follow the Around the Americas expedition.

To  create your own science notebook or ship’s log for following the expedition:

- Find a notebook you can use. A spiral notebook works great. You can also staple blank pages together to make your own book.

- Make the first page be your table of contents. Use a ruler to make columns. Make 1 narrow column (the width of a ruler is great) on the left for the date and another narrow column on the right for the page number. The wide column in the middle is for the title of each entry.

- Decorate the cover. It could have a ship, an ocean scene, pictures of the route, your favorite sea animal, a map—it’s up to you!

Now that you have made your notebook, it’s time to make your first entry! Scientists often start with their own ideas- what they already know, and what questions they have.  You can start out on the first open page of your notebook with what you know about the ocean. Answer these questions in your notebook:

-What do you already know about the ocean?
-What is your favorite part of the ocean? Why?
-What is your personal experience with the ocean?
-What do you think are some of the biggest threats facing our oceans today?

Do and Share:

Now that you have made your notebook, let us know what you did! You can email us at a picture of the cover you designed, or send us your answer to one of the questions! Emails and pictures can be sent to education@aroundtheamericas.org.

Conclusion:

Add a comment to this post by clicking on the comment link below the post title. In this comments field you can ask questions of the Ocean Watch team, and then check back to see if your question was answered in next week’s post. You can also send us ideas for an activity, answers from your science notebook, or questions you have for other classrooms that are part of the Shore Team!

Resources:

For more information on Science Notebooks, including ideas for teachers, pictures of scientist’s and student’s notebooks, and ideas of how to use science notebooks in your class, see the Science Notebooks website. Teachers may also be interested in Using Science Notebooks in Elementary Classrooms, by Michael P. Klentschy (NSTA Press, 2008), or Writing in Science, by Betsy Rupp Fulwiler (Heinemann, 2007).

We’ll see you next week!

August 23rd, 2009 – Gjoa Haven, Nunavut
by Zeta Strickland

Gjoa Haven, Nunavut  (August 23): Today’s Crew Log comes from onboard educator Zeta Strickland, who’s discovered more about ice than she ever thought she would as Ocean Watch continues its way through the Northwest Passage:

Ice.

I expected I would learn a lot when I joined the Ocean Watch crew. As predicted, I’ve learned a fair bit of sailing terminology (I can now tell port from starboard), and I can now locate on a chart and correctly pronounce the names of many arctic villages and hamlets from Tuktoyaktuk to Gjoa (“Joe-ah”). But what I didn’t realize was how much I would learn about ice, and what I didn’t appreciate was how much there even was to know about ice.

Ice is the main item that determines how a trip in the Arctic will proceed. The ice dictates when you move and how far you go. This can be quite challenging because ice is also moving and changing, some days with astonishing speed. More than one would-be explorer of days gone by, who watched their boat be crushed by the ice, discovered it the hard way: Ice is serious stuff.

As Ocean Watch enters the next critical point of ice blockage along our route, just to the north in a body of water called Larsen Sound, all on board are watching the daily ice charts with increasing interest. As we’re not the sort to keep all the fun to ourselves, we’d like to invite you to take a look at the ice charts along with us, and play along at home in a little game we like to call: “Should We Go Yet?”

To begin, click on the attached ice chart from the Canadian Ice Service. These charts are put together each day from satellite data. So, do you see the chart? The white areas are land, or water outside the view of the satellite. The colored areas represent different concentrations of ice. On Sunday, we were positioned in Gjoa Haven, on the southeast side of King William Island,  a round-ish island situated between 95W and 100W Longitude, and just below 70N Latitude. (Longitude lines are those vertical lines running north and south on the chart, latitude lines run horizontally, from east to west.) See the island? Great. The Boothia Peninsula is that large column of land to the east of our island, pretty much in the middle of the page. The water to the west of Boothia is called Larsen Sound.

Now that we have the geography, let’s look at all the colors. Each color represents a concentration of sea ice, and the key at the bottom of the page explains what each color means. Blue water is covered by less than 1/10 ice (10%), green areas are covered by 1/10-3/10. Yellow areas are covered by 4/10-6/10; orange and red are covered by 7-8/10 and 9-10/10 respectively. But there is more to this story than just the colors. Notice each color region on the map has letters; additional information can be learned about each region of ice by looking at the corresponding oval, or “egg,” at the bottom of the page – each letter on the map corresponds to an egg at the bottom.

Find the yellow region labeled on the map with the letter “F,” and the egg below labeled F. On the egg, each row and each column explains characteristics of that section of ice. The top number in the egg gives a more precise value for the percentage of ice than the color code. For example, the letter F section is yellow, meaning it is 4/10-6/10 of ice. Looking at the F egg below we see the actual percentage of ice in that area is 6, meaning 6/10 ice; that area is covered by 6/10 (60%) ice.
The second row of the egg describes how much of the ice in that area is of each type; our egg lettered F in the second row shows a 1 and 5, meaning that area is 1/10 one ice type and 5/10 of a different ice type. (Notice that 1+5 = 6, the number at the top of the egg.) This doesn’t actually tell us what types are present, so rows 3 and 4 further explain the type and floe size of ice present, and the numbers match up in columns.

Confused? I know, but stay with me a moment: in this area, 1/10 (row 2) of the ice is type 7 (row 3) and size 4 (row 4). (See how that stayed in the columns?) Move to the next column – in this yellow section 5/10 of the ice is type “4″ and size 4. To figure out what type 7 and 4 represent, as well as what size 4 actually means, you have to look to descriptive keys online that explain it all.

This can get complicated, but generally speaking, the bigger the number, the thicker (or wider) the ice. Numbers followed by dots are even thicker. So a 7 is thicker ice than a 3, but a “4.” is thicker than a 7 (without the period). Thickness, generally speaking, correlates with the age of ice: Ice formed this year tends to be thinner than ice that is several years old. In our case, letter F, the 7 means that ice is 30-70 cm thick, and the “4.” means that ice is more than 120 cm thick – the 4’s in the bottom row mean the ice is composed of medium-sized floes, 100m -500m across.

That explains the whole egg, but honestly, we generally are most interested in the top number, which is percentage of ice is that area. Simply put, Ocean Watch and her crew will carefully proceed through green areas, cautiously go through short stretches of yellow when necessary, and do everything we can to stay clear of the orange and red. And we always keep an eye out for old ice and icebergs. Icebergs we haven’t seen yet, but we will once we get closer to Greenland.  Icebergs and old ice (ice more than two years old) are mainly made of pure water – there is very little salt present – which means the ice is hard! (We don’t want to hit that!)

We also look at the other symbols that may be present on the chart. At the north edge of both ice regions (72N), there is a south-pointing arrow with a 5 and a 6; these tell us that the north edge of that ice is moving south about 5 or 6 nautical miles a day. (A nautical mile is just a bit longer than a land mile.) The curly lines that look like a sideways “S” means there could be strips and patches of ice in areas that otherwise are fairly clear. Without a doubt, however, our absolute favorite symbol is three little horizontal lines on top of each other: This denotes ice-free water. Yes, we like that one quite a bit.

So now you know the basics of reading an ice chart. For the next several days as we head north you can download the most recent ice chart and follow along. Go here. When the map loads, select Western Arctic. Scroll down to the “Daily Concentration Maps” (in color), and select “Queen Maud Gulf” (either the pdf or gif). That’s our area. Take a look, and follow along at home.  Should we stay near the west coast of the Boothia Peninsula, or go farther west? What’s our best path, and what kind of ice do you think we’ll go through? Teachers, there is a lesson all about the ice charts and these ice eggs here (PDF), and many more lessons about sea ice here.

And if you get any inside information on sea ice conditions, let us know. With fair winds and a little luck, we’ll see you in a few days on the north side.

- Zeta Strickland

This crew log submitted by Iridium OpenPort and Stratos

To add a comment to this story click on the comment link below the post title. Please direct your messages for the crew to crew@aroundtheamericas.org instead of submitting them here. Thanks for following the Around the Americas Expedition.

August 6th, 2009 – Booth Island, Canada
by Mark Schrader and Zeta Strickland

(August 6): Today’s special crew log is a two-part collaboration from Ocean Watch skipper Mark Schrader and our on-board educator, Zeta Strickland of the Pacific Science Center. Though a stiff northwesterly wind filled in overnight, Ocean Watch is resting comfortably at anchor in the protected confines of Booth Island, and for the moment the crew has chosen discretion over valor and decided to take a lay day while the weather blows through. While we’re waiting, here are two reports, one by the captain on the current status of the voyage, and the other from Zeta in the third installment of her Teacher’s Log.

Apologies to Booth Island by Captain Mark Schrader

Three very large Bearded Seals swam out to greet us.

From the moment we stepped ashore yesterday, I suspected that my first-impression assessment and description of our current anchorage here on Booth Island (in a word, desolate) was wrong. (I’d made it from the boat, admittedly a weak excuse.) Shortly after submitting yesterday’s log, David Thoreson, Zeta and I launched the dinghy and headed to shore. On the way in, three well-camouflaged (dark brown on a dark brown beach) but very large Bearded Seals watched us from their comfortable sand spit, then ooched themselves into the water and swam out to greet us. This was almost as good as the hand-delivered Canadian Coast Guard ice report we’d received shortly after anchoring.

With the dinghy safely beached, we hiked along the sloping shore, up a gentle hill and onto a higher plateau – all

Two Sand Hill cranes watched us for a while and then flew away.

the while seeing beautiful little tundra grasses and flowers happily growing and blooming amongst the rocks and boulders. Freshwater ponds filled the low spots on the plateau. A flock of Canadian Geese took exception to our presence and hurried away, eventually getting airborne. Two Cranes – we think the Sand Hill variety – strutted along a ridge, watched us for a while and then flew away. Beautiful orange and green lichen-covered rocks were everywhere – a truly beautiful landscape.

According to the Arctic Sailing Directions, this bay has been used as winter shelter for ships of all sizes and description for many years. Others have hiked the hills, as evidenced by several rock cairns we found constructed on the higher ledges. A few curious rock-cleared areas hinted that someone sometime had set up camps overlooking the passage – maybe waiting for rescue, maybe just enjoying the island.

The perfect place for a picnic.

David and Zeta returned to the boat while I stayed ashore and enjoyed the quiet solitude of the place. I was soon gathering dry firewood from the beach and finding just the right rocks for a good-sized fire pit. A plan was hatched. This was a perfect place for an afternoon/evening picnic. The caribou meat, a gift from Craig George in Barrow, grilled over our fire seemed like the right main course. The whole crew came ashore, went for a hike and on return helped gather more wood.  The event was a welcome and relaxing change from our boat routine.  We ended the evening by adding the remaining wood to the fire. When it eventually turned to glowing embers it was time to return to Ocean Watch.

The wind has now veered to the north and is blowing at about 18-knots.  Visibility comes and goes with the fog; sometimes we can’t see the shore, a mere hundred yards away. Our plan is to eventually leave this harbor and sail 60 miles further east to another sheltered anchorage just east of the ice blockage – and wait. If/when the fog lifts we’ll weigh anchor, hoist some sail and see if Pearce Point Harbor is as interesting and beautiful as Booth Island.
Hard Thoughts on Permafrost by Zeta Strickland
The sign was neatly lettered, complete with a map of the area. It was also worthy of a double take: “The natural

On Herschel Island, large chunks of cliffs, no longer anchored by permafrost, are slumping into the sea.

action of south-facing hillsides melting and slumping exposes solid objects buried in the soil. This is normal if a little startling when the object buried is a casket.” We encountered this rather troubling message a few days ago, during Ocean Watch’s visit to Herschel Island. As the crew wandered the tundra that afternoon, exploring the low hillside just beyond the settlement, we did see plenty of tilting headstones, but (thankfully) not a single casket. The experience, however, did get me thinking about the ground in this Arctic area. After all, any terrain that might unbury caskets on a regular basis seems worthy of a little extra thought.

A little context may be helpful for my upcoming confession: I have a background in geology, collect rocks like mad, think beaches are for sand collecting instead of sunbathing, and once watched an entire hour-long TV show waiting eagerly for the characters to attend a “rock show,” only to realize at the end that they were going to a music concert. So I’m possibly a little more fascinated with rocks and the ground than most.

Permafrost can raise coffins from the tundra like a scene from a zombie film.

Yet I must admit – and here goes the confession – that prior to last week I hadn’t given permafrost much thought. It’s frozen ground, right? I mean, how much thought does boring, frozen, immobile ground deserve?

As it turns out, permafrost deserves quite a bit of consideration, and not only because it can raise coffins from the tundra like a scene from a zombie film.

Yes, permafrost is indeed frozen ground – ground that never thaws, stays frozen year round and covers over half of Canada and most of Alaska. Far north, this permafrost can be hundreds of meters thick. Farther south, it can be quite thin. Below the permafrost is unfrozen ground, warmed by the heat from the earth’s interior. And above the permafrost, the layer between the permafrost and the surface is known as the “active layer.”

The name is quite appropriate, because this layer is truly active; it melts each summer and refreezes each winter. Author E.C. Pielou, in A Naturalist’s Guide to the Arctic, explains it best: “(The active layer is) a lifeless ground cover of clay, silt, sand, pebbles, and boulders that’s not inert: energy from the sun activates it. When the sun shines, rocks are heated and ice is melted; when the sun disappears…rocks cool and water freezes. These repeated changes cause continual small movements, which accumulate to produce some extraordinary patterns.”

The resulting landscape is truly extraordinary, and can include tundra polygons (large tracks of polygon shaped

Under normal conditions, permafrost will stay frozen and only the active layer will melt and refreeze with the seasons.

rises), palsas (small mounds with a core of frozen peat), tundra hummocks (small mounds in the high arctic that can have solid ice cores), frost boils (boils of clay that have oozed to the surface), and pingos. (We saw many pingos in the Tuktoyaktuk area – they are mini mountains, up to a hundred meters tall, with a core of solid ice and an overcoat of tundra.) This melting and refreezing of the active layer can cause objects in the ground, like rocks (and caskets!) to steadily shift and rise to the surface. (Those familiar with Midwest farmland, where fields must be cleared of rocks each planting season, will understand the process.) The summer thawing can also produce landscapes on its own; thawed ground can slump down hills like silly putty, forming something called “solifluction lobes.”

Under normal conditions, the permafrost will stay frozen, and only the active layer will melt and refreeze with the seasons. People living in the Arctic have adapted to such frozen-ground conditions and figured ways to use them to their advantage. Buildings we’ve seen in Barrow and Tuktoyaktuk are constructed on stilts several feet above the ground that are anchored to the permafrost; their elevated stature allows the permafrost beneath the building to stay frozen, which translates to a stable house that’s firmly attached to the permafrost. (If the structure was built directly on the ground, its heat would be steadily transferred and the permafrost would melt.)

The community ice house in Tuktoyaktuk is an great example of a permafrost freezer.

Additionally, people all over the Arctic employ the continuously frozen ground as a natural freezer by digging a hole into the permafrost, storing the food needed for the year, and re-covering it with a “lid” of tundra. The community icehouse we visited in Tuktoyaktuk was a beautiful example of a permafrost freezer; the sand-and-ice layers in the carved walls presented a unique window into the make-up of permafrost.

However, as we have discovered in many ways on this journey, the Arctic is changing. As summers become warmer and last longer, the active layer is becoming thicker, and the permafrost layer is delving deeper. The result? Buildings once firmly anchored to the permafrost are now in the melting zone, and becoming unstable. Areas around Fairbanks are forming sinkholes as underground ice melts and the water drains away, leaving hollow pockets that collapse. Ornithologist George Divoky, whom we visited on our first day out of Barrow, has been conducting bird research on Cooper Island for 33 summers. For decades he would take a few perishable food items with him at the start of the summer and dig a “freezer” about a foot deep into the permafrost for yogurt, milk and cheese. Recently, however, he dug and dug and then hit…water. The days of his permafrost freezer on Cooper appear to be over.

Thawing permafrost has broader implications than simply food storage and building stability. In fact, the very land is being impacted. Previously frozen shorelines were resistant to erosion from the sea. But many shorelines are no longer frozen, and the softening coastal edges are eroding into the sea with each winter storm. Herschel Island, an area with a rich history of settlements and whaling, is rapidly losing several archeological sites as they erode into the sea. Large chunks of cliffs, no longer anchored by permafrost, are slumping into the ocean as well. Tuktoyaktuk has placed massive piles of boulders along its shores as a wave break to slow the erosion, but the spit and harbor there are still being impacted.

Ironically, as permafrost melts, it’s contributing to it’s own demise. When frozen, permafrost contains massive

Once firmly anchored in the permafrost, buildings like these in Barrow, are now in the melting zone and becoming unstable.

amounts of dead plants that froze before they could start to decompose. This deceased material contains carbon that becomes locked in the frozen ground. Once the ground warms, however, these plants will start to decompose, releasing into the air carbon dioxide and methane. Both are greenhouse gasses, and both can result in more warming. The cycle becomes self-perpetuating: more warming leads to more melting which translates to more carbon dioxide and methane, and that creates more warming. If it weren’t so horrifying, the order and tidiness would be quite admirable. (To learn more about the impacts of permafrost melting, see The Big Thaw by Ed Struzik.)

So, now that I’m stuck on permafrost, I can’t stop thinking about the community freezer we saw at Tuktoyaktuk, or all the houses on stilts in Tuk and Barrow, or the historical sites on Herschel Island. How long with those structures and places be stable? How much deeper must community iceboxes be dug? Will George ever enjoy another cup of yogurt on Cooper Island?

It seems this frozen ground may deserve more thought from us all. I just hope it’s still around for us to think about for many more years.

- Mark Schrader and Zeta Strickland with photographs by David Thoreson

This crew log submitted by Iridium OpenPort and Stratos

To add a comment to this story click on the comment link below the post title. Please direct your messages for the crew to crew@aroundtheamericas.org instead of submitting them here. Thanks for following the Around the Americas Expedition.

July 27th, 2009 – At Sea, 70 50N 150 11W
by Zeta Strickland

(July 27): Today’s Log comes from Zeta Strickland of the Pacific Science Center, the first onboard educator to become a member of the crew aboard Ocean Watch on its voyage into the Northwest Passage and beyond. After leaving Barrow early Monday, Ocean Watc called at Cooper Island for a visit with its sole resident, scientist George Divoky, who has spent summers there studying black guillemots for the last three decades. We’ll recap our fascinating time on Cooper in tomorrow’s Crew Log.

In the meantime, Ocean Watch continues to pound upwind in stiff easterlies and short, choppy seas, the prevailing conditions and mode of travel since leaving Barrow. The full-time onboard crew is rather displeased that the weather hasn’t allowed us to introduce Zeta to the glorious joys of sailing – frankly, the current leg thus far has been a miserable, forced march – but it’s all part of the experience. To her everlasting credit, Zeta’s been a trooper, and we’d tip our collective hats to her if it were pleasant enough to take them off. In this second edition of her informal Teacher’s Log, Zeta talks about her inaugural impressions of life onboard.

A Sea of New Words
I’ve now spent my first two weeks on Ocean Watch, which vastly exceeds any of my previous time spent on a sailboat. And today we are actually sailing! (In reality we are motoring and not sailing, but movement is movement, and I have no complaints.) The past two weeks anchored outside of Barrow have allowed me some precious time to learn my way around the boat. Before we get too far out to sea, come onboard and I’ll show you what I’ve learned.  For you sailors in the crowd, this will all be review; but for the folks new to sailing, like me, let’s go explore.

Let’s start up topside, on the deck. (Don’t trip over any of the ropes by your feet.) Some of those ropes (or “lines” to sailors – hardly any rope is actually called rope on a sailboat) lead to the mast, or the sails, or…well, I don’t really know yet. Once we start sailing I’ll be learning those, but for now, let’s move into the pilothouse:  This is where we steer the boat. But for me this past week, this is the sunroom, the RV, the upper cabin, the porch and my napping spot. The clear plastic curtains that surround the pilothouse allow the sunlight (and warmth) in and block the wind. The result is a rather comfortable extension of the living area – we’ve had dinner here, read up here and it’s a great place to watch the world.

Okay, let’s head below now, be sure to duck and don’t hit your…whoops! Well, if it’s any consolation pretty much everyone who comes on board hits his or her head right there on the small overhang. (There’s even a sign: “All are welcome to hit head here!”) All right, let’s try again: through the door and down the stairs. (They’re not called stairs though; the entrance and staircase is known as the “companionway.” I don’t know why.)

As you go down the stairs (okay, companionway!) around the corner to the left (okay, port!) is the workshop. All our tools are here, as well a big deep freezer, and access to the engine, too. It’s a fairly warm space, so let’s hang up your wet gear here. Just forward of the shop is a desk: see it? This is the navigation and science station. We have laptops, our satellite phone and a pair of radios. Make sure the VHF-radio is set to channel 16; that’s the safety and distress channel for all boats, and everyone has their radio turned to it as a default. If we want to talk to another boat we’ll first make contact first on channel 16, then switch to a different channel to talk.

That clock? Oh, don’t worry, it looks like it’s running fast but it’s actually set to Universal Time – also known as GMT, though sailors call it “zulu” – because that’s how we record all our science observations. See? It’s 9:30 a.m. in Seattle, 8:30 a.m. in Barrow, and 6:30 p.m. in Greenwich, England, the baseline for Universal Time.

See that table to the right (okay, starboard!), beneath the bookshelf? The one with the couch all around it? That does double duty as the main worktable and dining room table. And that couch? That’s called the “settee” and it also serves dual roles: There isn’t a lot of room on the boat, so we have to get creative to store all the gear and food needed for six people for a couple of months.

Go ahead: Pull up one of those couch (okay, settee!) cushions and you will see pasta, jam, crackers, canned

The author discovers food beneath setee cushions.

veggies…the list goes on and on. Food is stored in 17 different places on board, so finding anything in particular is tricky. We have a good inventory list that tells us how much of something we have, and more importantly, where to find it.  (Flavoring/mustard/yellow? Three jars are under couch cushion #5! I’m told this process and system was mayhem until port coordinator Bryan Reeves came on board and sorted it all out.)

See those big orange bags in the rack over the settee? (I’m learning.) Those are the survival suits, one for each person. In an emergency (a big emergency) we’d put those on before we would have to…(is it bad luck to even say it?) abandon ship. The suit is hard to put on, and you look like a giant orange Gumby doll, but it will keep you warm and afloat in icy waters.

In an emergency a survival suit keeps you warm and afloat in icy waters.

To the right of the stairs (starboard of the companionway!) you’ll go past the galley (also known as the kitchen). It has everything we need: sink, oven, stove, refrigerator, freezer and even a five-foot long spice rack. Everyone takes turns cooking (and we have some good cooks on board). Those who don’t cook clean (doing the dishes has been my main contribution so far.) Go past the galley and now you are in the very back of the boat, also known as the stern. This is the cabin for a couple of crewmembers, and yes, more storage space.

Let’s return to the companionway; there is a little hallway straight ahead. Yes, it is really narrow, but this is good. When we are really bumping around it can be hard to walk. The narrow hallway means you just sort of bump back and forth like a pinball, instead of getting thrown a long ways from side to side. Also each door, cabinet and drawer on board has a latch to keep it open, or a latch to keep it closed. Even in a little motion, unlatched doors will flap around with a frightful noise. It only took a couple days of not being able to open or close doors before I was automatically reaching for door hooks.

That little room to the left; yep, that’s my room. I’ve squished my mattress down to the foot of my bunk, and in the little gap left at the head of my bed is room for a book, my journal, and my iPod. It’s not a lot of storage space, so I also use that little cubbyhole up near the ceiling. That green cloth next to my bunk? That’s a lee cloth. In bad conditions we can tie that up; it makes a 4^th wall to completely enclose your bunk and keeps you from being thrown out when the boat hits a big wave. I haven’t used it yet, but I’m sure I will!

Across the hall is the bathroom, also called the head. (Okay, it has to be said: I really don’t know why sailors can’t just call things as they are. A bathroom is a bathroom in an apartment, a house, a mansion, an apartment and a hotel… everywhere except a boat!) Anyway, Ocean Watch is quite well appointed compared to other boats; we have a shower, sink, and toilet, even a washer and dryer. (I don’t even have a washer/dryer in my apartment in Seattle!). We also have a good library on board, and half the books are in the head.

The final room is in the very front of the boat (also called the bow). This has more bunks for the rest of the crew, and storage space for much of the science equipment, as well as closet space for clothes (that’s my shelf: second from the top). Yes, it’s pretty dark in the closet; this is why there are flashlights everywhere, and why most of us have headlamps, too.

Well, that’s about it: 64-feet of storage, confusing names, and tiny dark spaces. But somehow it all works together to be this sailboat – currently, a motor-sailing sailboat – which for now is my new home. I’ll give you another tour of the sailing side of things once I learn it. You know, when we actually start sailing.

- Zeta Strickland with photographs by David Thoreson

This crew log submitted by Iridium OpenPort and Stratos

To add a comment to this story click on the comment link below the post title. Please direct your messages for the crew to crew@aroundtheamericas.org instead of submitting them here. Thanks for following the Around the Americas Expedition.

July 14th, 2009 – Pt. Barrow, Alaska
by Zeta Strickland

(July 14): Zeta Strickland has joined the crew of Ocean Watch and will be an important member of the team as the boat sails into the Northwest Passage and on to Boston. Here’s her first dispatch from the boat, written from the Top of the World hotel just before coming aboard:

After sailing the past month from Seattle, Ocean Watch has recently arrived in Barrow, Alaska. I feel a little like I cheated: as the first on-board educator, I simply flew to Barrow. While I wait to learn where exactly they are, and how I will get to the boat, I can’t help but think about what my next three months will be like. As this is my last day before joining the boat it seems like an opportune time to answer some of the more common questions people have been asking me this past month.

What’s my background? Why am I joining Ocean Watch?
I have been a teacher for several years at Pacific Science Center in Seattle, one of the partner organizations in this project. With the center, for many years, I taught science in communities across Washington, traveling in a brightly covered van. It seems like a logical extension to teach in communities around the Americas, traveling in a brightly colored boat. Additionally, with my background in earth science, and a personal interest in exploration and the Earth’s polar regions, this seems like a perfect opportunity to see and learn about a part of the world that is changing rapidly. The chance to also teach on this expedition feels like the perfect way to spend a summer!

What will I be doing on Ocean Watch?
While we are underway, I will be crew. I will be cooking, standing watches, navigating, assisting with the science experiments on board, and helping with all the things that need to be done when you are on a sail boat. Once we are in port, however, I will also be a teacher. I will lead activities on the dock and on the boat, teaching visitors of all ages about the expedition, the science experiments on board, ocean science and the issues around ocean health. Each port call will be a little different, and so my role will be fluid, adapting to the community we visit.

Am I nervous?
Yes. Don’t get me wrong, I feel incredibly fortunate for the opportunity to join the crew, and to be part of this expedition that so far, I have simply read about on this website. But yes, I am a little nervous. I think the reason for a bit of nervousness is quite simple: I’ve never done this before. I have never sailed for anywhere near this long, going to places I’ve only read about, and entering into weather, sea, and ice conditions that can be ever-changing and unpredictable.

Do I get seasick?
Tough to answer: I don’t know. Can you know this before you actually sail? I do know that I am OK in cars, and I like to fly. And I’ve never had a problem on the water before- but I’ve never been on the open ocean before either. So my guess is yes- I will get seasick. Ask me this one again later.

How do I feel about being the only woman on board?
That’s another good question to ask me again in a few days/weeks/months. Right now, I am actually quite unconcerned about this. (And no, I don’t have a lot of brothers, or any brothers for that matter.) I did, however, due to quirk in the housing arrangements at my university, live a full year in a fraternity house. I don’t know this crew well enough to know if college fraternity living will be good training for the next months, but it may be. Truly though, I think the reason I’m not too concerned is that I feel like there are many bigger issues than the gender ratio on board- there is ice to track and watch for. There is weather to adjust to and sail through. And we are researching and learning about massive changes to our Earth’s oceans- being the only woman on a boat seems like a small concern in comparison to everything else.

All that being said and even with my excitement for the boats’ arrival, I am quite enjoying my time in Barrow. It is proving to be a very friendly town and so I think it’s time to go for a walk while I can: before my walking world reduces to 64 feet.

- Zeta Strickland

This crew log submitted by Iridium OpenPort and Stratos

To add a comment to this story click on the comment link below the post title. Please direct your messages for the crew to crew@aroundtheamericas.org instead of submitting them here. Thanks for following the Around the Americas Expedition.

Ocean literacy principles provide guidelines for marine education

Ocean science is a wonderful “hook” for engaging students in lessons in basic science including physics, chemistry, biology, and geology.

In 2004, a group of scientists and educators was organized by the National Geographic Society, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), the Centers for Ocean Science Education Excellence (COSEE), and the National Marine Educators Association (NMEA) to identify and define the guidelines for what an “ocean literate” citizen should know about the 70% of our planet covered by salt water.

The group developed the Ocean Literacy Principles and Fundamental Concepts. Ocean literacy is defined as “an understanding of the oceans influence on you and your influence on the ocean.”
An ocean-literate person understands the essential principles and fundamental concepts, can communicate about the oceans in a meaningful way, and is able to make informed and responsible decisions regarding the oceans and its resources.

There are 7 principles to ocean literacy:
1. Earth has one big ocean with many features.
2. The ocean and life in the ocean shape the features of Earth.
3. The ocean is a major influence on weather and climate.
4. The ocean makes Earth habitable.
5. The ocean supports a great diversity of life and ecosystems.
6. The ocean and humans are inextricably linked.
7. The ocean is largely unexplored.

Each principle is supported by underlying “fundamental concepts.”  Educators have advanced these concepts by developing a table of standards, which align the US National Science Standards to ocean literacy principles, so that teachers can use these interchangeably. For Around the Americas, all curricular materials are aligned to U.S. and Canadian National Science Standards and ocean literacy principles.

Recently, the College of Exploration has developed “Climate Literacy” principles, following the same model as the ocean literacy principles.

To read more about ocean literacy and download a copy of the ocean literacy principles brochure, see http://www.coexploration.org/oceanliteracy/.