Full Circle

“Camille, take this moment in, you’ll likely never be here again” is a phrase I often said to myself 9 years ago. And yet, someway, somehow, I am magically “here” again. I am aboard the SSV Robert C Seamans once more. Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean - I stopped trying to keep track since we left Palmyra. But, this time, for the first time in my life, I am no longer a student. I am Dr., with a soon to be fully conferred PhD and a postdoc at Stanford. Most importantly, a teacher and a mentor to a pretty remarkable group of students. 

It’s been a little surreal. From the moment I stepped aboard, the memories started flowing in. Life aboard the Bobby C hasn’t changed much since my last residence. It was pretty entertaining watching the students discover what I now remember so vividly. Despite my last time on this ship being the best 6.5 consecutive weeks of my life, this is no pleasure cruise. We are the crew, the scientists, the janitors, etc. aboard this ship. There’s always something that needs to be done to ensure that Bobby, your shipmates and yourself are in working order.

No longer at the whims of the watch maker, I am an “Other”, free of standing watch in the middle of the night, but expected to set my own schedule except for a 6 am wakeup call I have been promptly ignoring since day 5. With this “otherhood” comes a “promotion” to what I am calling the “Sweat Cabin.” A bunk in a stateroom, hanging from the ceiling, with no rail to keep me in… Every night is an adventure. I have to fight the tack to just get into my bunk and hope that the heat doesn’t melt me. Barb did warn me – she says she has measured 92 deg F in that bunk. As a Canadian and religious follower of the metric system, I have no idea how hot that is, but I know it’s too hot for a human to live. Yes, for a Canadian who once wore gloves on a beach in the Caribbean because she was cold, I have finally found a temperature that is too hot.

Most of my days consist of insuring that students have everything they need to complete their research projects. We have 9 different projects ongoing. Each unique in its scope, the students’ and their projects have challenged me to draw knowledge from my now completed education in oceanography. I am pulling out old textbooks and lecture notes from classes I took 6 years ago to try to help them explain the phenomenon they are observing. I am amazed every day at the quality of the research being done by students, many of whom had never taken an ocean science course only 9 weeks ago! I am very proud of all of them and can’t wait to see the final products this Saturday and Sunday.

While most of my time aboard has been spent reminiscing, I have been able to remedy my only regret from my student experience. While I had the privilege to sail Bobby from San Diego to Tahiti as a student, there’s another sailing vessel that I never had a chance to take out. Gene.

A two sail, single mast, sailboat that lives starboard, midships on Bobby, Gene is named after Bobby’s wife. Most of the time, she is a storage container for the laundry buckets, fishing rods, tagging mats, cinderblocks, rope and buoys. Her use blocked by the rescue boat that sits on top of her. But at Palmyra, Gene came off the deck and was placed into the water.

After letting some students get the first spin, I finally got my chance. I asked Kanoe, one of the two student “captains” along with Sydney, which one of them would provide a safe time and which one of them would provide a fun time. Kanoe didn’t hesitate. Neither of them would guarantee a safe passage, but both would ensure a fun time. And what ensued was certainly fun.

**--Dear Parents, reading this – there is a happy ending to this story, no one was ever in grave danger and all souls are safe.--**

Kanoe, Kelly and I boarded Gene one late afternoon in Palmyra. All of the small boats powered by motors were away on snorkeling missions. The captain of Bobby, Greg, gave us permission to go out for a sail on Gene. He handed us a radio and told us not to go far. A squall (i.e., a storm at sea) was coming in. With our captain Kanoe forward, Kelly in the middle on the staysail sheets and me aft in charge of both the tiler and the mainsail sheet, we set sail around Bobby in Palmyra.

It took a little bit to get used to. I, at 5’7”, am a little too tall and have to get completely horizontal on the floor of Gene to pass sails to change directions. But eventually, we were flying, picking up speed, jibing, tacking. Nothing could stop us. We made circles around Bobby. We were having the time of our lives. An hour and a half in, Kelly and I changed roles. We continued to fly, until we got what we thought was a brilliant idea…

With so many incredible research projects, there were never enough boats to do science. We all wondered, given our excellent seamanship so far, could we use Gene to do science? Could we stop Gene on a station, do a CTD cast and get back underway? Surely, if we wanted to do this, we would need to be able to demonstrate our abilities. We all agreed to try. Let’s douse (i.e., bring down) all the sails. And stay on “station” and put them back up. We were doing great. Nothing would stop us now. We tried over the radio to tell the crew on Bobby what we were attempting to do. No answer. Oh well. Let’s move Gene to be in view of Bobby when we experiment to make sure that we could be saved if anything were to happen.

We doused the sails. Success! We were kind of staying in the same location! We got a call over the radio asking us if everything was alright. We answered that this was all part of the plan. The small boats came back and passed us on the way to returning our shipmates from their snorkeling. We told them all that we are ok. That everything was under control… We were so proud of ourselves that we hadn’t noticed that we had started to drift! We were approaching the shore! We scrambled to put the sails back up and turn…

SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH

It was certainly not a pleasant sound as the bottom of Gene touched something. We tried desperately to stop Gene’s momentum by dousing the sails and using the oars with no success. Kanoe hoped out to stop her. At last, Gene had stopped and we were now in the middle of a shallow, ankle deep sand/coral flat. We all hoped out and walked Gene back to deeper waters, where our expert tow by Heather (1^st mate) and Nate (chief engineer) was waiting for us.

Most of the quarterdeck of the Seamans was filled with observers, enjoying our little adventure. We got the tow of shame back to the Seamans. And there’s photographic evidence…

To all those reading, all souls are accounted for, including Gene’s. She fine. Barely a mark on her. Now back midships on Bobby and back to being a storage locker. We made apology cards for all of our rescuers and most importantly, for Gene herself. Gene received a variety of apology haikus from KCK (Kanoe, Camille & Kelly).

After much discussion amongst ourselves and the professional crew of the Seamans upon our return, we learned where we went wrong and a hell of a lot about sailing. With this experience, I’ve finally come full circle with my time aboard the RCS.

Now, with our final few days of S-303 approaching, I find myself saying again, “Camille, take this moment in, you’ll never be here again.”

Dr. Coconut Camille (S-250, S-303)