Oxygen Titrations

The key to titrating is to keep your hands steady and your eyes on the meniscus. Never look away from the oxygen flask. As it turns out, the magnetic mixer that the flask sits on is kind of slippery, especially when there are twenty-foot waves beaming Tommy’s port side. I’m ashamed to say that I am solely responsible for the destruction of flask 48. It’s sad, but apparently there’s a glass shop onboard, so I’m not really tripping (also kind of awesome). What s*!ked was cleaning up the actual spill because each passing wave was accompanied with a rocking motion that spread the partially titrated mixture. By the time I found paper towels and baking soda, the spill had spread the width of the room.

I cursed myself, but I couldn’t quit halfway through the titration. For those who don’t know, the punishment for doing so is waterboarding in the oceanographic community. So, I cleaned up the mess and moved on to the next standard; mind you, I hadn’t even started processing the actual samples yet.

Some of my colleagues hate on me ;-)  They think that I take titrations too seriously. They doze in main lab while I put in work in hydro, listening to Megan thee stallion like: “Talk about something y’all like stop talking me since y’all hate a b***** so much”. I joke of course, but this doesn’t change my position on the issue.

Land Ho

I’ve learned a lot on this cruise and loved being at sea. I feel that I could stare into the deep blue forever. The ocean is more vast, beautiful and mysterious than I previously thought. It’s almost impossible to describe the feeling of being on a boat and looking out and it's ocean forever in every direction. You feel tiny, but a part of something huge.

Yesterday, this illusion started to fade; as we approached the coast of San Diego, the deep blue water faded to a dull blue green and our manta nets were filled to the brim with pelagic tunicates, called salps. At night, we went out onto the bow to stargaze and we could see the light pollution from nearby islands, humming eerily over dark clouds in the distance. Right now, we are heading North along the coast of San Clemente Island in one last mapping venture. The island is the first land we’ve seen since Oahu.

I highly HIGHLY recommend that anyone in marine sciences look for opportunities to go on similar research cruises. It’s been a life-changing experience for me. It sucks if you get seasick (I didn't), so take Dramamine beforehand and try not to think about the vast ocean beneath, intent on consuming you. She demands respect.

Ben Mather