By Eric Lindstrom

Denis Volkov taking a break from work in the afternoon.

One of the popular topics of conversation during the first week of the voyage has been sleep. Whether it is poor sleep, good sleep, disturbed sleep, or deep sleep, almost everyone in the science party has had something to say about the subject of sleep.

Sleep on a ship is special. As you can imagine, the rocking and rolling (actually pitching, rolling, and yawing) can be a gentle sleep inducement – unless it is making you terribly sick! What those on land probably cannot imagine are all the noises associated with the ship – the engines, equipment, and the sea slapping at the ship. An amazing array of new hums, grinds, bangs, bumps, slams, alarms and conversations must be assimilated into one’s sleep life.

After a week of hard work preparing the ship for sea in Honolulu, it is no surprise that many slept well the first night. However, the next couple days were much harder for some. The mild seasickness and the abnormal noises from the ship unsettled sleeping patterns. More than one person commented to me that their adjustment and best sleep came around day 5. By that time all the seasickness had past and the sounds of being at sea had been incorporated into ones dreams. Soon we will start weeks of 24/7 operations and the luxury of long sleeps may be over until the transit back to Honolulu. Sleep may get interrupted when operations call.

Audrey and Kristen during the early seasick times.

Many scientists will be on 12-hour watches (noon to midnight or midnight to noon) so one should not be too worried out lack of sleep among your favorite scientists. It is more likely that one’s normal rhythm of sleep may be at odds with duties.At sea it is not abnormal to find people eating, sleeping, exercising, and working at odd hours.

Part of writing about sleep now is because (at this writing on Sunday afternoon, August 21) we have completed our transit from Honolulu to 125W longitude and are beginning 24-hour scientific operations with a southbound trek along the meridian. We will be deploying drifters at regular intervals, profiling temperature and salinity while underway, and deploying three moorings along this meridian.

Monkey working on his “monkey tan” at steel beach.

Let me finish today with a little local story about sleep. Andrew Meyer, the mooring technician from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, has a son, Jack, who is 3 and a half years old. Jack sleeps with his plush toy Monkey every night. When dad left home for the SPURS-2 expedition, Jack sent Monkey along so Andy would not be lonely. So Monkey is having a good time, sending pictures to Jack and family regularly. Monkey is certainly helping Andy keep in touch with his loved ones and that also means that Monkey is helping Andy sleep better at night. So, dear readers, Monkey joins the blog today to honor all that we do to sleep well and to remember those we left at home as we work, and sleep.

Sunset at sea on Aug. 21.

I leave you today with a sunset and hope that all of you will sleep well!

Tags: life at sea, oceanography, Pacific Ocean, precipitation, salinity, SPURS2

This entry was posted on Tuesday, August 23rd, 2016 at 2:57 pm and is filed under Salinity Processes in the Upper Ocean Regional Study (SPURS). You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.