Six-Day Log

Storegga Slide Coring Cruise

Written by Michele Hatton
Educator & Florida State undergraduate geology student

Saturday, September 4, 2004 – At Sea

Morning

The storm finally hit last night. There had been rumors that it was coming our way. Winds are now 45 mph, with waves at 25 feet. They say we are riding the troughs. But the troughs seem to be riding us. You would think that there would be rhythm to our movement. But there is none. Consequently, it is hard to find my own personal rhythm.

I was tossed around in my bunk during the night. The metal guardrail that lines the outer side of my mattress came in handy. It sits about a foot high above the mattress, a perfect restraint for an average-sized person when the ship is rolling. I was thrown up against it more than once last night. A quick trip to the head was a challenge as well. It took forever to negotiate that small void space in my cabin between the bunk and the door where there is no closet door or dresser handle to grab on to.

My roommate and I chatted intermittently throughout the night, pulling our little curtains aside to check in on each other as the ship pitched and heaved every which way. Our cabin is on the lower deck; our bunks parallel with sea level. Mine, however, sits right next to the starboard edge of the ship. A chunk of metal is all that separates me from a raging sea. Right below us is the ballast, filled with water. It sloshes around in a direction all its own.

The sky outside is dark, the rain heavy, and the hatches are securely buttoned. There are signs taped on every hatch, “Weather Deck Secured!” All work is suspended until further notice. It is both spooky and exhilarating. I lost my breakfast. Others have as well.

Later

It is 1:30 PM. My roommate has not been up since 10:30 PM. last night. She is very seasick and only asks what time it is when roused. When I tell her, she asks, “AM or PM?” It is a rational question, as there is no natural light that reaches the lower deck. The storm has eased, so operations are beginning again.

Later still

I was asked to operate the multi-sensor core logger (MSCL). This is known as the most boring job on board. Every meter of core must be fed through this device. It takes forever, but you cannot leave your station because you must sponge down the core every two minutes or so.

This is how it works. The meter core is turned on its side, then placed on a moving track. The track moves the core slowly through the MSCL sensors. Every two centimeters, the device activates, shooting compressional earthquake waves (p-waves) through the sediment, then recording the velocity of these waves. At the same time, the MSCL sensors pick up magnetic information about the sediment. When compiled, all the data from this boring device is weighed against other core data. Hopefully, they sets of data will complement one another, refining our picture of the past.

Tonight, people gathered, one by one, in our cabin. Since my roommate and I spend a fair amount of time in our bunks, sleeping away the seasickness, our cabin has become a handy social hub. It’s fun.