BACK OFF, MAN, WE’RE SCIENTISTS!!!
Apr. 15th, 2002 02:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
senoritafish(Edit 9/15/06: Most of the people mentioned in this post no longer work for the Department, so I figure it's safe to mention at least their first names...)
Well, this week has been an exercise in futility. It is pleasant to NOT be the BIC (Biologist In Charge, Biologist In Competent or, Biologist InCoherent, take your pick), however, and I’ll take any excuse to get out of the office. since the priorities keep changing to be more and more writing and planning and less and less research and field work. I ‘m a little ambivalent about leaving Avalon for so long since she’s so little, but I’m taking my pump along and will be using it several times a day, and freezing the results. A couple of weeks ago I mentioned to Darrin that I needed some freezer space since I was still nursing my daughter. He emailed me back saying that we were welcome to the freezer space but he wasn’t sure how she would like bunking there. Wiseguy.
We are looking for mature spawning female sardines; looking at their ovaries and how much they are spawning is added into a mathematical model which predict the biomass of fish out there. From this the Feds decide how many tons each year can be taken by the fishing vessels.
Day 1 - Saturday
Stop at the office to grab some last minute stuff. I think I should take the old laptop in case I want to load some stuff onto (or off of) the datalogger, so I frantically load the transfer programs onto it. John & I drive to San Pedro (I’m late as usual), but when I get there, Darrin tells me there’s a gale warning. Come back tomorrow. So I get another day with the baby and the kids.
Day 2 - Sunday
I grab a few more CDs to take with me, and try to copy a fanfic I haven’t read to a disk. It does not cooperate. Every time you’re in a hurry, nothing works. Should’ve done it last night, but John had other plans. Oh well.
On depositing my stuff in the wetlab, I discovered Darrin had done a little decorating; a clipboard covered with pictures of people blowing chunks was hung on the wall over the sink. For inspiration, I suppose? “Where the hell did you get those?” I asked Darrin “Oh, www.peoplethrowingup.com, I guess.” Amazing what they’ll put on the internet. We left SP and headed to San Clemente Island. We found a large school of fish, and they were flipping all around the boat, but after setting the net, got only a few anchovies. Darrin thinks the net mesh might be too small for the size sardines we want. We tried jigging as well but got only a few pac macs and some very small ‘dines, not even mature; we are barely able to sex them. We headed down the east side of the island to Pyramid Cove to anchor, looking for fish schools along the way, but every time Mark, the skipper, lit something it bailed.
Day 3 - Monday
Out to Tanner Bank. It’s a bit rough trying to convert all at once to day sleeping, and lunch at midnite. We turn on the lights and try to attract something, but the fish aren’t buying it. Darrin has taken to shouting at Ronnie, the deckhand, every time he appears, “You think fisheries management is a joke?!”and we all laugh. The water may be a bit warm for spawning sardines. We anchor again at Pyramid Cove, San Clemente Island, and about noon, get kicked out by the Navy. We head up to the north end of the island and anchor again.
Day 4 - Tuesday
We attempt to get to San Nicolas Island. It’s rough getting out there and I make the mistake of accepting one J.’s cappucinos. The coffee smelled so good while he was grinding it, but drinking it is rather like pouring straight acid into my stomach. I stagger outside to get some air but it doesn’t help. I wind up retching over the side, although while I’m puking my guts out I notice there were actually stars out, echoed by the flashes of phosphoresence in the boat’s wake. It would be quite pretty if I hadn’t been losing dinner in the middle of it. At San Nic, the wind is blowing 40 knots and the swells are building, so despite marks of fish all around (and previous observation of sardine eggs on another research vessel), we are forced to turn around and head to Catalina Island. Note: decline J.’s espresso. I can always blame being seasick on something else, can’t I.
Day 5 - Wednesday
We anchor in Cat Harbor (the ocean side of Two Harbors). I wake up about 11 am. and use my pump. Although I dislike using my breastpump in the bathroom, there is really no other place for privacy on an 80 foot boat with seven men. At least there’s a sink in here; the other head is just that, only a head, and, despite being regularly scrubbed, it reeks of pee- guys standing up in rough seas I’m sure tend to miss the bowl once in while. I’m washing my pump in the sink when I drop the whole damn thing on the deck, where it clatters loudly. Hoping I didn’t wake up the skipper and mate, whose cabin is right next door, I swear quietly and wash damn thing again.
Later, Darrin and Brad get up and we jig for pac and jack mackerel. Sampling, you see. Even though it’s not precisely what we’re after, there’s a guy down at NMFS who’s studying sealion scat and needs fresh otoliths (fish ear bones) to compare with what he finds in them. There are worse jobs, I suppose, but studying shit has got the be the pits.
The lifeguard boat comes by and tells us that a Navy hovercraft will be coming into the harbor to check out landing areas in case of bringing emergency vehicles over to the island. I’m rather excited to see one up close (I’ve only seen them from a distance when driving past Camp’ Pendelton on I-5) and grab my digital camera. Half an hour later, we hear a roar offshore; the hovercraft has arrived but is just hanging there in a cloud of spray about a mile offshore. Apparently, they have second thoughts about coming into such a narrow harbor; they roar off down the backside of Catalina and out of sight into the fog. Slightly disappointed, I put my camera away, dig out my CD player and listen to “When We Were Very Young.” It’s an album we used to have when we were kids - a bunch of A.A. Milne (author of Pooh stories) poems set to music. I feel nostalgic as I sit in the wetlab and read “Uncommon Waters,” a book of stories about fishing written by women.
I spend an hour or so casting Brad's spinning rod, caught a mackerel and small flattie (released), then before sunset we watch seagulls mobbing a bald eagle. Apparently, there are about a dozen breeding pairs out here on the island.. We have dinner and take off once again. Ray gets pissed because someone pushed the wrong button on the remote (maybe it was me) and the special at-sea TV antenna doesn’t work; he has to get out the book and program it again. We stop at Farnsworth Bank - nothing- and continue down the back side of Catalina to where the commercial boats are fishing. Darrin notices that the purse seiners are completely dark until they wrap the school, then they turn their lights on. Maybe be we’re doing it wrong. Finally, at 5:30 am, ½ an hour before we’re supposed to anchor, Mark locates a school of ‘dines, being chased by mackerel. Still too small tho’, so we anchored off Avalon.
Day 6 - Thursday
After about 3 ½ hours of sleep, Darrin, Brad, Jonnie the cook, and I get up and catch the shoreboat into Avalon. Jonnie’s aunt lives there and works in the town’s nursery/garden supply place. She told us the guy who hired her did so despite her knowing nothing about plants and promised to teach her; sadly, he died of cancer before he could, but she's been learning madly ever since. She lent us an ancient and decrepit golf cart, the main mode of transport in Avalon, besides shanksmare. Jonnie took off in it like a madman, despite never having driven one before, with the rest of us clinging for dear life to the rickety canopy. We drove up into the hills to the north and south of town, something I’ve never gotten to do before. There were few times going downhill when I had visions of us plunging off the side of the narrow road and down a cliff, and I squinched my eyes shut and said “We’re going to die.” After returning the cart to his aunt (I’ve got to write her a thank you card or something, that was incredibly nice of her) I thanked Jonny for the E-ticket ride. Then we went and got a burger. J. insisted on sitting in the sun, while Jonnie and I, Celtic skin and all, sat there and got crispy. Well, I got crispy; I had neglected the sunscreen - Darrin had a hat and long sleeves. A beautiful day - also John called my cell phone a couple of times - I think he’s lonely. He tells me Gareth has been asking where I am, Angus not so much. Well, I’ll be back tomorrow morning.
This evening, we tried actually setting the net again off Newport Beach; there actually were sardines swimming around the boat. We let it soak for about 20 minutes, but all we got were a few anchovies. Well, negative data is still data. Darrin decides to give up and just head back to the dock. We arrive back in San Pedro at 1 am and get the equipment off the boat by 2 am. I take Friday off; John’s happy because his mom got him tickets to the Long Beach Grand Prix this weekend, he’s taking his brother along because I really don’t have much interest in loud race cars. This means I get all weekend with the kids - My chance to bond since I've been gone for few days.
I love being at sea - I miss it, but I think my days of being out there for a month or so at a time are behind me.
Well, this week has been an exercise in futility. It is pleasant to NOT be the BIC (Biologist In Charge, Biologist In Competent or, Biologist InCoherent, take your pick), however, and I’ll take any excuse to get out of the office. since the priorities keep changing to be more and more writing and planning and less and less research and field work. I ‘m a little ambivalent about leaving Avalon for so long since she’s so little, but I’m taking my pump along and will be using it several times a day, and freezing the results. A couple of weeks ago I mentioned to Darrin that I needed some freezer space since I was still nursing my daughter. He emailed me back saying that we were welcome to the freezer space but he wasn’t sure how she would like bunking there. Wiseguy.
We are looking for mature spawning female sardines; looking at their ovaries and how much they are spawning is added into a mathematical model which predict the biomass of fish out there. From this the Feds decide how many tons each year can be taken by the fishing vessels.
Day 1 - Saturday
Stop at the office to grab some last minute stuff. I think I should take the old laptop in case I want to load some stuff onto (or off of) the datalogger, so I frantically load the transfer programs onto it. John & I drive to San Pedro (I’m late as usual), but when I get there, Darrin tells me there’s a gale warning. Come back tomorrow. So I get another day with the baby and the kids.
Day 2 - Sunday
I grab a few more CDs to take with me, and try to copy a fanfic I haven’t read to a disk. It does not cooperate. Every time you’re in a hurry, nothing works. Should’ve done it last night, but John had other plans. Oh well.
On depositing my stuff in the wetlab, I discovered Darrin had done a little decorating; a clipboard covered with pictures of people blowing chunks was hung on the wall over the sink. For inspiration, I suppose? “Where the hell did you get those?” I asked Darrin “Oh, www.peoplethrowingup.com, I guess.” Amazing what they’ll put on the internet. We left SP and headed to San Clemente Island. We found a large school of fish, and they were flipping all around the boat, but after setting the net, got only a few anchovies. Darrin thinks the net mesh might be too small for the size sardines we want. We tried jigging as well but got only a few pac macs and some very small ‘dines, not even mature; we are barely able to sex them. We headed down the east side of the island to Pyramid Cove to anchor, looking for fish schools along the way, but every time Mark, the skipper, lit something it bailed.
Day 3 - Monday
Out to Tanner Bank. It’s a bit rough trying to convert all at once to day sleeping, and lunch at midnite. We turn on the lights and try to attract something, but the fish aren’t buying it. Darrin has taken to shouting at Ronnie, the deckhand, every time he appears, “You think fisheries management is a joke?!”and we all laugh. The water may be a bit warm for spawning sardines. We anchor again at Pyramid Cove, San Clemente Island, and about noon, get kicked out by the Navy. We head up to the north end of the island and anchor again.
Day 4 - Tuesday
We attempt to get to San Nicolas Island. It’s rough getting out there and I make the mistake of accepting one J.’s cappucinos. The coffee smelled so good while he was grinding it, but drinking it is rather like pouring straight acid into my stomach. I stagger outside to get some air but it doesn’t help. I wind up retching over the side, although while I’m puking my guts out I notice there were actually stars out, echoed by the flashes of phosphoresence in the boat’s wake. It would be quite pretty if I hadn’t been losing dinner in the middle of it. At San Nic, the wind is blowing 40 knots and the swells are building, so despite marks of fish all around (and previous observation of sardine eggs on another research vessel), we are forced to turn around and head to Catalina Island. Note: decline J.’s espresso. I can always blame being seasick on something else, can’t I.
Day 5 - Wednesday
We anchor in Cat Harbor (the ocean side of Two Harbors). I wake up about 11 am. and use my pump. Although I dislike using my breastpump in the bathroom, there is really no other place for privacy on an 80 foot boat with seven men. At least there’s a sink in here; the other head is just that, only a head, and, despite being regularly scrubbed, it reeks of pee- guys standing up in rough seas I’m sure tend to miss the bowl once in while. I’m washing my pump in the sink when I drop the whole damn thing on the deck, where it clatters loudly. Hoping I didn’t wake up the skipper and mate, whose cabin is right next door, I swear quietly and wash damn thing again.
Later, Darrin and Brad get up and we jig for pac and jack mackerel. Sampling, you see. Even though it’s not precisely what we’re after, there’s a guy down at NMFS who’s studying sealion scat and needs fresh otoliths (fish ear bones) to compare with what he finds in them. There are worse jobs, I suppose, but studying shit has got the be the pits.
The lifeguard boat comes by and tells us that a Navy hovercraft will be coming into the harbor to check out landing areas in case of bringing emergency vehicles over to the island. I’m rather excited to see one up close (I’ve only seen them from a distance when driving past Camp’ Pendelton on I-5) and grab my digital camera. Half an hour later, we hear a roar offshore; the hovercraft has arrived but is just hanging there in a cloud of spray about a mile offshore. Apparently, they have second thoughts about coming into such a narrow harbor; they roar off down the backside of Catalina and out of sight into the fog. Slightly disappointed, I put my camera away, dig out my CD player and listen to “When We Were Very Young.” It’s an album we used to have when we were kids - a bunch of A.A. Milne (author of Pooh stories) poems set to music. I feel nostalgic as I sit in the wetlab and read “Uncommon Waters,” a book of stories about fishing written by women.
I spend an hour or so casting Brad's spinning rod, caught a mackerel and small flattie (released), then before sunset we watch seagulls mobbing a bald eagle. Apparently, there are about a dozen breeding pairs out here on the island.. We have dinner and take off once again. Ray gets pissed because someone pushed the wrong button on the remote (maybe it was me) and the special at-sea TV antenna doesn’t work; he has to get out the book and program it again. We stop at Farnsworth Bank - nothing- and continue down the back side of Catalina to where the commercial boats are fishing. Darrin notices that the purse seiners are completely dark until they wrap the school, then they turn their lights on. Maybe be we’re doing it wrong. Finally, at 5:30 am, ½ an hour before we’re supposed to anchor, Mark locates a school of ‘dines, being chased by mackerel. Still too small tho’, so we anchored off Avalon.
Day 6 - Thursday
After about 3 ½ hours of sleep, Darrin, Brad, Jonnie the cook, and I get up and catch the shoreboat into Avalon. Jonnie’s aunt lives there and works in the town’s nursery/garden supply place. She told us the guy who hired her did so despite her knowing nothing about plants and promised to teach her; sadly, he died of cancer before he could, but she's been learning madly ever since. She lent us an ancient and decrepit golf cart, the main mode of transport in Avalon, besides shanksmare. Jonnie took off in it like a madman, despite never having driven one before, with the rest of us clinging for dear life to the rickety canopy. We drove up into the hills to the north and south of town, something I’ve never gotten to do before. There were few times going downhill when I had visions of us plunging off the side of the narrow road and down a cliff, and I squinched my eyes shut and said “We’re going to die.” After returning the cart to his aunt (I’ve got to write her a thank you card or something, that was incredibly nice of her) I thanked Jonny for the E-ticket ride. Then we went and got a burger. J. insisted on sitting in the sun, while Jonnie and I, Celtic skin and all, sat there and got crispy. Well, I got crispy; I had neglected the sunscreen - Darrin had a hat and long sleeves. A beautiful day - also John called my cell phone a couple of times - I think he’s lonely. He tells me Gareth has been asking where I am, Angus not so much. Well, I’ll be back tomorrow morning.
This evening, we tried actually setting the net again off Newport Beach; there actually were sardines swimming around the boat. We let it soak for about 20 minutes, but all we got were a few anchovies. Well, negative data is still data. Darrin decides to give up and just head back to the dock. We arrive back in San Pedro at 1 am and get the equipment off the boat by 2 am. I take Friday off; John’s happy because his mom got him tickets to the Long Beach Grand Prix this weekend, he’s taking his brother along because I really don’t have much interest in loud race cars. This means I get all weekend with the kids - My chance to bond since I've been gone for few days.
I love being at sea - I miss it, but I think my days of being out there for a month or so at a time are behind me.
