11 things I learned from my first season of gill nets.
Well readers this week marked the end of another chapter of my life. Now that I’m out of school and working life is no longer counted in semesters but gill net seasons. And this rookie has a single notch in her belt after 10 weeks of hell (not counting my notch as an intern).
Once again I’d like to begin this post with a disclaimer that although I am an employee at TPWD they are NOT associated with this blog post or with the views contained in this blog post – these are my thoughts as an individual.
So many of you are probably wondering….what the hell is a gill net? Gill nets are our way of assessing the adult fish populations in our bay systems (along with fisheries surveys at the boat ramp). The data that we obtain from these nets is critical for making management decisions. Much of the bag/size limit of our fisheries is dependent upon this data. For 10 weeks in the spring and the fall we deploy 4-5 nets per week to sample different locations within our system. These nets are 600 feet long with meshes of differing sizes (6 to 3 inches) – they soak from sunset to sunrise and then we pick them up. From there we measure and count everything that comes up. Lively fish are returned to the water and for fish that cannot be saved they are utilized for research – age and growth studies, feeding ecology, genetics, physiology, and much more.
So now that we have some background – without further ado here comes the 11 inevitable truths of gill net season:
1. Are you a morning person? Because you’re going to be.
It’s not often that I sit in bed for the first 5-10 minutes after I wake up and question my every life decision…but when I do it’s probably gill net season. Gill net season means waking up between 0330 and 0400 every morning to be at the nets by sunrise. My body wakes me up at 0400 every single day now. Thanks gill net season! I never wanted to sleep in again. Extra bonus points for being coupled with a set the night before (I usually got home around 9-10 PM).
2. The sun. The tan lines. So bad.
When the sun finally peeks it’s little sleepy head over the horizon it only takes about 30 minutes for it to be boiling hot in Southeast Texas. Coupled with the general lack of wind and a slicker/deck suit you’ll soon be descending into the pits of hell. After about 2-3 weeks you’ll begin noticing your Columbia shirt tan come in nicely. This is how you know that you’re part of the cool kids club. Sometimes the sauna that is your slicker suit helps you drop that extra, pesky 5 pounds!
3. Fish guts. Fish slime. Fish ‘errything ‘errywhere.
If you don’t like fish guts then you probably picked the wrong job. Fish guts and slime will cover your entire being. How many times this season did I get, “Hey Katie, what’s that in your hair?” only to respond “Meh, probably fish guts.”
4. Your clothes will never be the same.
This goes back to my last point of fish guts. Fish slime. Fish everywhere. One time my stench and clothing was so bad that David wouldn’t even let me come in the house. Pro tip – Get yourself a large bin, some water, and Oxi clean.
Let that shit soak. Literally let it soak off. Friends don’t let friends put fish guts in their/their wive’s washing machines.
5. That smell…it’s probably me.
Has the wind ever blown and sent a whiff of something horrible to your nostrils only for you to discover…damn that’s me. Every day. What’s that smell? It’s me…I can smell myself. A mixture of sweat, sunscreen, fish guts…
6. Butt sweat. It happens.
By far…my *favorite* part of gill net season is when the sun has risen over the horizon, I’m elbow deep picking fish out of the net, and then I feel it. The river of sweat from my back – straight into the valley. Butt sweat. It happens, it is the disgusting truth. When those bib pants come off it’s like a river running straight into my boots. Alright…probably too much imagery for you.
Anyone remember the Juicy Couture track suits from our adolescence? The ones with writing on the ass? I think I need writing on the back of my bib pants that says “Butt Sauna”.
7. Can I push my coworker off the boat yet?
About three fourths of the way through the season morale will be at an all time low. The combination of getting up early, being trapped with your coworkers, and having the shittiest sets of nets to pick up will put even the cheeriest person in a bad mood. While picking nets at the front of the boat you’ll question the legality of pushing your coworker off the boat. The short answer – don’t do it…no matter how annoying they are.
8. Pro tip – close your mouth.
I mean this in a dirty sense. Like literally. When you’re going to town picking through that 3″ mesh at the end your brain will stop working. Then the next thing you know you’ve eaten about a teaspoon of hard head catfish slime that’s ricocheted into your open mouth. Go ahead and throw up – that’s a legit reason. Never leave home without your buff neck gaiter. It may just save your life. Spoiler alert – it tasted horrible – don’t swallow it – no one will call you a quitter.
9. Go before you leave home.
If this was a blog where you think everything is sugar coated then stop reading. Go before you leave home or you’re going to be taking a marsh poop. Pro tip – don’t eat Taco Bell the day before a pick up and always pack toilet paper in your field bag. Once you take a marsh poop your coworkers will never let you forget. No marsh or land to poop on? Enjoy pooping off the back of the boat where your coworkers will hear and smell everything.
10. Watch out for snakes.
Got a little story for you – about a girl named Katie who decided to eat some dewberries for dinner while waiting to set a gill net. She almost picked the wrong berry. Please remember while picking berries or taking marsh poops to always check for snakes. I needed a good marsh poop after stumbling upon this.
11. If you haven’t quit by the end of gill net season – you probably chose the right career.
This is the gauntlet. The weed out. Only the strong survive. Just remember you didn’t choose the fish life, the fish life chose you. We get to witness the best sunrises and sets. Pat yourself on the back, keeper of the coast, this was another one for the books.
There it is – the 11 inevitable truths of gill net season. If you need me I’ll be sewing gill nets for next season in the shop and catching up on 2.5 months worth of sleep.
The 10 do’s and don’ts of launching your boat at the ramp.
Now that the warmer months are upon us I’d like to share a little informative piece about how to not be “that” asshole at the boat ramp.
After a painful Memorial Day weekend of working at a couple of boat ramps it’s time that the general public be made aware of some serious boat ramp offenses. I’d also like to say that this blog post does not represent the views of Texas Parks and Wildlife or the Coastal Fisheries Department – this is wholly my opinion outside of my khaki shirt (if you’re watching big brother, there’s your disclaimer).
1. Consider practicing your trailer backing skills BEFORE you get to the boat ramp.
It’s okay. We’ve all been there – and everyone has to learn at some point. Just please do so in the comfort of your own driveway or at an empty boat ramp or parking lot. Do not try to learn at the busiest boat ramp in the county on a Saturday morning. You’re going to piss everyone off.
I’d suggest setting some cones out and remember when backing a trailer…less is more! Use your mirrors!
2. For the love of all that’s holy PLEASE load all your gear and people in the boat in the parking lot (out of the way) and not in the actual slip.
Please do not be that guy who PARKS in the slip while folks are lined up down the road/parking lot ready to launch that wants to slowly load items one by one into your boat. And if I’m waiting behind you…you’ll feel my eyes glaring literal holes through you.
3. While we’re on the topic of gear…put life jackets on your children.
Nothing quite upsets me like watching your Darwin award winning self drive away with those sweet babies and no life jackets. Your children shouldn’t be punished for your stupidity. PUT LIFE JACKETS ON YOUR CHILDREN. End of conversation.
4. Don’t be that person who sinks their boat in the ramp after launching.
I’ve watched this happen in my two short years of working at the boat ramp. TWICE. Two times too many. Seriously don’t forget your plugs and actually look around for ship traffic if you’re launching near a busy shipping lane (I’m looking at you fools at the Samson Yarbrough Ramp).
5. Don’t be that person who wakes everyone out while leaving/coming to the ramp.
You’re not the Vin Diesel of the boat ramp – stop acting like it. If you want to waste a bunch of gas then go practice in open water. You’re responsible for your wake so try not to put other people in danger.
6. Check yourself before you wreck yourself. Trim that motor up when you’re leaving the ramp.
Wanna know what’s worse than nails on a chalkboard? Hearing your brand new Yamaha 250 scrape against the concrete at the ramp. I’ll be in near physical pain just for your sake.
7. Leaving your boat in the slip while you talk about how giant your fish was with another dude at the ramp is just as bad as #2 on this list…
Seriously….just move your boat out of the ramp – that’s the main take away from this post. I don’t care if you’re “pro staff”….move your crap. The rest of us waiting don’t care about all the dinks you took photos with. I don’t care if your boat is brand new. Take your Sperry wearin’, Columbia shirt clad self out of everyone’s way. Seriously…I don’t even care if you’re the Pope. MOVE.
8. If you’re that person who yells at your wife/significant other/buddy while docking your boat…don’t.
I’m going to judge you if I’m sitting at the ramp. One of my favorite stories is about a guy who was yelling and cussing at his wife while she was backing the boat trailer (pretty well in my opinion for someone who didn’t do it often). She’d had enough of his bull so she just took off with the truck and trailer and left him at the ramp. Dude was fuming but I literally rolled out of my chair laughing.
9. Going along with #7 when you’ve successfully trailered your boat and pulled it out of the ramp KEEP GOING.
Really move your damn boat out of the way of people trying to trailer and launch. Find a nice piece of parking lot out of their way to unload your gear and people. Also I don’t think trailered is a word but I’m making it one for the sake of this blog post. Sue me.
10. Women are perfectly capable of boating, driving, and backing a trailer.
Y’all it’s the 21st damn century. If I get stopped one more time at the ramp and asked if I need help simply because I’m girl…I think I may snap. Not that I’m trying to be cocky but I probably back a trailer better than most grown men (I do it a lot for work and have a lot of practice). So when you approach me at the ramp and ask if I need help or tell me I do a good job for a girl…I’m going to throw you one of these:
Finally a little bonus to this list…..please be nice to anyone conducting a survey while you’re at the ramp. We’re just trying to do our jobs – it’s hot and most of us wish we were the ones on the boat instead.
So with that – here’s my tips on how to not be “that” person at the boat ramp. If you violate any of these you’ll make me pull one of these:
Take it easy y’all. May your stringers be full and your lines tight. Drink and boat responsibly.
The Girl with the Big Bass sheds her waders to go wedding dress shopping and shares ten tips for landing the one!
On my last post about our not-so-mushy, blunt, tell-it-all love story I promised you a post about wedding dress shopping. So without further ado here is the journey of how on several cold weekends in January I shed my normal daily wear of waders to pick out a white dress.
For any bride out there – your journey usually begins on Pinterest. I know mine did!
But let’s be honest. Most of those dresses are not made to fit this cornbread fed body or cost more than my truck.
I started my journey at a consignment shop in Houston. I figured that a used wedding dress is a lot more cost efficient! But when we walked in I figured out my first point…
You have to have an appointment to try anything on. This is the rule almost anywhere you go.
2. Your size in wedding dresses is usually anywhere from 2-3 sizes bigger than your normal size.
I started browsing for dresses my normal 12-14 size and was quickly corrected with, “Um you need to be looking in the plus size section because you’re like a size 20 or 22.”
That was actually completely false – all of the size 20 and up wedding dresses they brought me fell to the floor when I stepped in them. Also putting a bride in a corseted dress that’s like 5 sizes too big doesn’t work either. “Oh look it fits.” Yeah and you can’t even tell it’s corseted because it’s all the way tight….
But don’t be surprised that if you’re a curvier bride you’ll be looked down on at “higher end” places…
After drowning my fat shamed sorrow with some sweet tea and some mexican food we decided to give classic ol’ David’s Bridal a chance next. Luckily they gave us an appointment on the spot for 30 minutes after we’d shown up.
While waiting for an appointment, we got free reign of the dress racks to look at everything which brings me to my next point…
3. Actually looking at dresses and pulling things you want to try on is super overwhelming.
Like the control freak’s nightmare. Hundreds, thousands of all white dresses in static-y plastic covers, smooshed together. The store’s already a million degrees and you’re wondering why you’re even here.
My consultant, Jan*, was nothing like you’d watch on weekend mornings on TLC. It seemed to be a re-occuring trend everywhere I had been. This brings me to my next point…
4. Not every consultant is Randy from Say Yes to the Dress. Some of them really suck. Some of them are better than Randy. Getting a consultant is a lot like a box of chocolates.
They’d tell you anything you wanted to hear to put you in a dress (some SUPER unflattering) just to sell it and get you off the floor. Jan wanted to shove me into every size 12 and 14 dress they had on the rack, stunt my breathing by zipping them up, and tell me that they fit like a glove….yeah because I didn’t want to move or even sit on my wedding day…..This brings me to my next point…
5. Bring that super blunt friend with you who cares about what YOU want but also cares about the amount of back fat gapping out of the back of that beautifully detailed dress.
The first dress Jan put me in from David’s bridal barely even buttoned to the point where I couldn’t breathe and it made my back feel like a busted can of biscuit dough that had rolled out the grocery bag and under seat on a July day in Southeast Texas (was that enough imagery for you?). Jan couldn’t get over how beautiful it was but I looked at my friend Meagan who gave me the stank face. I made her promise at the beginning of my journey to always say no if I had back fat and the face said it all. I took one look in the floor to ceiling mirrors and nope’d right back into that dressing room.
I’d also like to take a moment to thank my dear friend Meagan for performing the task of “button bitch” and insisting to every consultant that EVERY single button on the back of my dress better be buttoned before they let me walk out of the dressing room.
The next dress Jan put me in brings me to my next point….
6. If you’re a bride about utility you think of everything before you make a decision on the dress of your dreams.
The next dress that I slipped into….HAD POCKETS.
As much as I tried to love the pocketed dress….it brought a lot of things to my attention like the 5 years of college done the right way and the many cracked cold ones after a long day on the water at work. But me being the type of girl I am walked out and exclaimed (loud enough for half of David’s Bridal to hear) “It has pockets…for not one but TWO flasks of whiskey.”
Jan looked at me like I had just exited from the trailer park.
But if it’s one thing I took away from dress shopping it is that you want to be comfortable and feel like a million bucks in whatever you pick out. I want to take a minute to say I’m sorry for any consultant who had to deal with me. I probably made some comments that they weren’t used to hearing. Some of my favorites were:
“Can we pick something that hides my beer belly a little better?”
-Flops on couch next to friends- “Yep this one definitely passes the sit test.”
“I’m a simple girl but the train of this dress needs to be super extra.”
“Nope this one is not extra enough for me.”
“I feel like I can eat BBQ and get down in this one.” -does small dancing jig on the platform-
Consultant: “How do you want to look and feel on your big day?” Me: “I want to be super extra…but comfortable.”
“I feel like I could definitely hide a flask or two of whiskey in this one.”
-Picks up arms in sleeves- “Nope still won’t affect my ability to chug whiskey out of the bottle.”
“Yup this one is bringing a LOT of things to my attention that no one wants to see.”
“I promise there’s a waist in there between my boobs, my beer belly, and my butt.”
While we’re on the topic of brutal honesty while dress shopping, it brings me to my next point….
7. A lot of dress consultants are pretty much going to see you naked so you better get over being shy.
Luckily for me my first few appointments at lower end dress stores we pushed all of the “Jan’s” out the dressing room and I had least had my girls who’d seen everything. But once I began shopping at the higher end boutiques the consultants were required to go in. But me being me – I didn’t care. I felt pretty much like Amy Schumer in her new “I Feel Pretty Movie.”
To all the brides out there – my advice to you is to bring nude colored lingerie. Some of the dresses they put you in can be see-through. I’m sure that you don’t want half of the bridal boutique seeing your hot pink thong – not that I’d know from experience or anything. Or your consultant for that matter. Also don’t show up in a sports bra on that same day – make sure you have a strapless.
This rolls me into my next point….eventually when you go to the right shops – consultants are actually helpful. At the tail end of my journey I’d already narrowed down what I had wanted.
8. A good consultant will know what body types look good in what dresses. Trust them and you may be surprised at what you end up liking.
I never wanted to be that girl who picked a ball gown. I thought I had the right figure to pull of something that was more form fitted.
But my beer belly ruined it all. Even towards the end of my dress shopping journey I let consultants put me in things that I didn’t necessarily choose and needless to say…I was impressed. Go in with an idea of what you want but don’t be afraid to compromise. I was totally willing to compromise on the silhouette of my dress so that all of my assets were highlighted and the things I wanted hidden stayed hidden below a corset or layers of fabric where they belonged.
But the thing that plagued me the most during my hunt for the dress was my next point…
9. If you’re a girl who likes sleeves…good luck.
Although the duchess supposedly brought sleeves back for the masses, they’re still hard as heck to find. The main struggle of my dress journey was finding a dress with sleeves. And sadly, I never found the one, which brings me to my next point…
10. They can do a LOT of things in alterations. Don’t throw out a dress you love because it’s missing one of the things on your wish list.
The dress I ended up picking actually needs enough alterations to keep any seamstress busy for a couple months. But hey….I’m getting my sleeves!
After a month long, exhaustive search, I was convinced that I’d be wearing a burlap sack down the aisle. I’m not an emotional person by any means but I never got “that feeling” in any dress I had tried on. My friends had (Meagan cried at nearly everything I tried on). But I hadn’t.
I made an appointment at an upscale boutique that had most of the designers I’d been “pinning” and when I walked in – it was a treasure trove of lace ball gowns. I picked a few to try on and was beginning to lose faith. I just knew I was going to just “pick one” so I could get it over with. I was afraid I’d have dress regret. But finally my last option came up on the hanger. It was something my consultant had pulled for me – I scoffed at the fact that it didn’t have sleeves but I agreed to put it on any ways. I was so exhausted at this point with this being the third dress shop we’d walked into that day. The reality was that no dress until this point had overwhelming comments from the group I’d brought with me.
I was pinned in and walked out to show it off for the entire group. I made the remark “I think this might be a little too poofy for David…I’m not too sure.” And that’s when I turned around and saw Meagan crying.
I sat in front of the mirror for a while feeling nothing. Sometimes the magic doesn’t happen until they show you what they can do in alterations.
I felt like the same fat little dumpling that had been in every other dress store. Standing in a dress that was too big – like an outsider swathed in layers of tulle and not polyester and neoprene. Would it be legal to wear a white Columbia shirt down the aisle? For a girl who is comfortable in her own skin most of the time, I felt like such an outsider to this entire world. I was out of my element.
Sometimes it takes someone with vision to come along and show you that you don’t always have to be the girl in the marsh covered in fish guts – the plain Jane that no one would ever think of being anything more. The owner of the boutique came and yanked the fabric around my waist to show me what it would be altered to look like and the consultant gathered lace and tulle around my arms to show me that sleeves could be added to the dress. Another consultant added a veil that fell gently over the train of the dress. And at that point I turned around to see my mother crying on the couch behind me. My best friends all with tissues in their hands.
Then I started crying. And we knew I had finally found the one. After some quick measurements – the dress was ordered and I was on my way.
I finally found my dress.
And just for everyone reading – I’ll slip in a snapshot of one of the many reject dresses that I tried on during the journey:
But unfortunately for the rest of you who weren’t there you have EXACTLY 6 months to wait until the real thing is here.
From waders to a wedding dress – this has been quite the journey but I’m excited for our big day – thanks for reading y’all!
–The Girl With the Big Bass (in the white dress and not the waders this time)
P.S. for all my Houston gals getting married – The Princess Bridal in Spring deserves all the praise in the world! I’m so glad that I went to them to find my dress – make sure to add them to your list!
In honor of a year of being engaged, sit down and read all the juicy details of my proposal that have never been shared!
It’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to sit behind the screen and write something for all of you to read – but I’m back.
A lot has happened since we last talked. We’ve moved (and moved again) and I got my first full time job out of college. However, this blog post is a back pedal to last year. We’re going to go back to February 4, 2017 to talk about my favorite story from the Antarctic, so buckle up readers….it’s story time.
I’d like to begin with a little informational fact. Now I know many of you are penguin lovers. How many of you asked to be on the penguin mailing list last year? At least 50 of you….
Approximately 17 species of penguin collect pebbles or rocks to present to their mates. One of the species (Magellanic penguins, these are the ones found in South America) are even monogamous. Male penguins work to collect these pebbles to construct a nest in order to woo their female counterparts. Once the female enters the nest she is presented with the pebble(s) as a sort of penguin proposal.
Pretty damn romantic for some penguins right? You guys could learn something from these birds.
I hope you’ve all learned something today about the penguins – the Adelies and Gentoos that I saw when I was in Antarctica last year were pebble penguins, too. But I digress – the real reason I’m writing this post is to talk about my favorite memory of Antarctica. To talk about my awkward little penguin. First we’re going to take a little blast from the past…
A little over five years ago I walked into the Buckshot Saloon in Galveston, Texas with some friends. It had been a real tough week – tests and really bad break up. We were just looking to dance and have some fun. We sat at a table with some mutual friends who had brought along some friends and that was the first time I’d really ever paid attention to him. Across the booth from me sat a jolly, bare faced guy named David. I’d met him before but all I really knew was that he refused to come to game night in our dorm and was from Chicago. He tried to keep talking to me but my face was buried in my phone, uninterested. Finally our friend Andrew suggested that we (David and I) should dance together for the night (for non-Texas folks this was a country and western bar). I agreed…..what could it hurt?
He was a terrible dancer. “What did I get myself into?”, I thought. He asked me questions, what was my major, what did I enjoy doing in my spare time…small talk. All I could think about was how hairy this dude’s knuckles were. Actually all of him was pretty hairy except for his face that had a 5 o’clock shadow. Answering his questions were difficult as I had to keep up with the fact that he was literally hopping across the dance floor as we danced.
As the night went on, friends had fun, and we had both offered to play designated driver. I drove my car and friend to her house, and he drove her car to her house. It occurred to me on the way there that I did not know this man. He could have been an axe murderer for all I knew. After all it was nearly 3 AM and we did live in Galveston. Panic set in as he got into my car after dropping our friend off…he needed a ride back to campus. I had a hunting knife stashed in my side pocket. I figured I might be quick enough to hit an artery if he tried any funny business. It was only about 5 miles back to campus.
The car ride was spent in near uncomfortable silence as I thought of all the ways he might try to murder me. Finally we crossed the two lane drawbridge to Pelican Island (seems pretty murder-y to you, right?) I asked him where on campus he lived….and he replied to me, “The corps dorms – Albatross.”
Never had I ever wanted someone out of my car so bad. If there was one rule I’d learned after starting at Texas A&M – it was that you stay far away from corps boys. And I had planned to do exactly that.
And now dear readers……..I am marrying that very same corps guy in less than a year.
Life has a very funny and mysterious way of working. For weeks this boy followed me around. He held doors for me, carried my books, asked permission to “escort” me to class, and even got me lunch on Wednesdays between my back to back classes. No one had ever been this nice to me. I eventually turned to my mom and explained all the nice things this boy was doing for me and she replied with, “Tell him to go away!”
And so I did. I told him that I refused to date him. His only response, “Well can we at least be friends?” And so we were. He listened to me talk about my classes, my family, my future career plans. He held me on the really hard days following my break up and listened. He also knew that pain. We watched Disney movies together, we went to the beach just to walk and talk about life. Never once did he ask for more than to be my friend.
A month went by and we became part of each other’s routine. Doing homework, getting Taco Cabana, watching movies, friends’ game night. Then came Thanksgiving break – he went to Waco, and I went home to Dayton. It occurred to me while lying in bed, bored out of my mind one night that I actually missed his presence. It became clear to me at that point…..I had caught the feelings.
The more I thought about it, the more I knew. In today’s day and age, it is rare that you find someone who genuinely cares for you (I’ve hijacked my friends’ Tinder accounts before to see what all the fuss is about and NOPE…it is a COLD world out there, ladies). This guy liked me so much that he was willing (and not mad in the least) to be blatantly friend zoned. Not to mention, there was some real potential there for lumberjack beard growth.
A week after Thanksgiving break, I made the decision to take poor David out of the friend zone. Male readers – please take a moment to clap and rejoice for another man exiting the friend zone.
Our favorite thing to do at the time was to walk on the beach (cliché I know but sue me). When we finally got close to my car to leave (I’d gotten over the murderer phobia now, no worries) I made my move. I had to because I’d already friend zoned him so hard that he was probably scared to.
I made him turn his back to me, and I took a minute to write “Be more than friends?” in the sand. He looked so happy that he might cry when he turned around.
-Nicholas Sparks style interlude where narrator is focused back into the main frame, telling a story to his grandchildren who excitedly ask, what happened next-
Well readers, this story is far from over, in fact…it has just begun, but I’m going to skip forward to February 4, 2017. It’s an important date. Don’t forget that.
So for those of you who have somewhat kept up with my posts, or my life for that matter know that I had the chance to sail to Antarctica on a research vessel to participate in scientific research for a little over 2 months last year. It just so happened that the boat I was on was the same one that David had been an engineer on for a couple years, and we ended up on the same cruise rotation with each other. I’d suggest reading some of my other blog posts if you get the chance to get an idea of exactly what we were doing down there but I digress…
On February 4, 2017 I was extremely pissed off. I was fed up with life, homesick, facing writer’s block, and most of all mad as hell at David. We’d been together for 5 years, lived together, I’d even had to pretend to be his wife to pay his bills over the phone while he was gone offshore all the time. We’d been through the roughest and the happiest times together in life and gave the #couplegoals people a run for their money. AND STILL NO RING. Can I get a holla from my sisters in the back who feel that pain?
I figured if he was going to do it, it would have been the day before when we had the chance to both go on a zodiac (the little rubber boats) ride to do some up close and personal whale watching.
But alas, it did not happen. I had lost all hope at that point for any sort of romantic, grand proposal. So there I sat in the bridge, pissed off, and alone. None of my friends in the lab would even speak to me that day. I was convinced that I was the biggest garbage human on the planet.
Eventually I came downstairs from my corner for dinner. I was forced to sit across the table from my traitorous boyfriend. I was less than amused with any of his conversation that day.
Eventually the marine projects coordinator, Lindsey, sat down with us. She told David that there was a weather station on land nearby that needed fixing. Since he was the engineer on duty she wanted to know if he could hop on a zodiac and go with them to make the repair. We were sitting in Andvord Bay, at the time while our whaling crew completed some sampling and photography work with the local inhabitants.
Me, being me, and taking any chance to get off the main ship for a zodiac ride spoke up, “So I think David might require an assistant to hold his tools or something like that…is there enough room for me on the zodiac?”
To which she responded, “I don’t know…if you go it needs to be a secret from the rest of the boat, and you need to get permission from Debbie first.” Debbie was the P.I., AKA boss lady for our little lab group. I was instructed to hurry and get ready to go and to find Debbie. I looked everywhere for her but couldn’t find her. I figured it was the end of the cruise and if I disobeyed her, that I’d be back home in Texas next week anyways. Little did I know – she was actually hiding because she was so giddy that she couldn’t keep the secret.
I raced to my room to layer up for a zodiac ride. Nike pros, yoga pants on top, two pairs of thick wool socks, undershirt, overshirt, buff, hat, gloves, glasses, steel toes, waterproof pants, float coat….y’all get it right?
My roommate at the time asked me where I was going…I just responded, “Perks of being a ship girlfriend I guess?” and with that I grabbed my camera for all the cute penguin pictures I’d snap and left to hop on the zodiac. Not a stitch of make up on, no fancy nails, no hair did, ready for adventure.
We pulled away from the ship, David tool bag in hand. I was bouncing with excitement because we’d be the only people our entire cruise to step foot on Antarctic continent (everything up until that point had been an island). We were headed to Duthier’s Point to fix a weather station. Our little crew consisted of us, an electronic tech named Julian, Matt the marine tech, and Lindsey, our marine projects coordinator.
The sun was “setting” about as much as it could in the summer time at the bottom of the world (it never really gets dark once you hit a certain degree down there). Penguins, seals, and even some very rare whales passed us on our journey to the point. Of course we were greeted by some beautiful scenery that I’ll share:
Finally we arrived at the point where tied up our zodiac and got off to repair the weather station.
Now I’m not going to sugar coat this next part and tell you it was the thing of dreams. The entire point smelled like sun baked penguin poo. All of those white things you see on the rocks above? Crispy, dried penguin poo. The wet, brown/red, gleamy looking stuff? Fresh, slippery penguin poo. And now some informative memes about penguin poop:
We scaled the slippery rocks carefully keeping our distance from the Gentoo penguin colony and their babies that inhabited the land. David made his way up to the weather station with Julian while I lagged behind appreciating my time with all of the penguins. He’d seen plenty of penguins in his day so he and Julian left me be while they went to make a satellite phone call to figure out the logistics of the repair.
Julian encouraged me to follow after David to the large rock below the antenna because it had a really nice view of the mountains and the ship that would make for good pictures while David was working on the weather station.
The cliffs here were pretty rocky and covered in poo so for a Texas girl used to flat land (with an expensive as hell camera in hand), David stuck around to help me up to the rock. We snapped a couple of pictures along the way to document our first time stepping foot on actual continent. Check out these nerds in their float coats who think they’re cool:
Finally we got up to the rock, which did in fact have an amazing view.
Then I thought to myself, wait a second, where is this asshole’s tool bag? As I was caught up in my moment of thought, Julian caught this great picture of David who looked back to make sure we were lined up in the shot that would capture the moment.
Let me just preface this with the fact that I HATE surprises. I spoil everything. You must work diligently to hide any sort of surprise from me. After 5 years with me David realized that nothing was safe and that I was clever enough to figure out even his most elaborate plans. But this time he’d duped me.
If you wanted a fairy tale story where people cry and scream yes and then kiss in the sunset then you walked into the wrong story time, my friends. So this is your fair warning.
He got down on one knee, and I remarked “You shit head, we’re not fixing anything are we!?” I was genuinely upset as a handy girl who likes to fix stuff. To which he replied, “Well actually I’m fixing something right now.”
Katie, did you cry?? How romantic! No dear readers, I did not cry. My brain was still making calculations and overheating from shock factor that someone had finally surprised me. Had fooled me. I had walked right into this trap!
Okay back to the mushy love part before I start losing readers who came here for the juicy details.
-Cue romantic music crescendo-ing in the background like some legit Nicholas Sparks shit-
“We’ve been together for far too long for me to not fix this, I’ve been waiting for years for this moment. I love you so much, Katie Michelle, will you marry me?”
To which I responded, “Yes, you asshole.”
Then we kees.
And this is the story that we’ll someday tell our children, and their children, and so on. This is the story of my awkward penguin and how I finally got my pebble. A very shiny pebble that apparently my penguin had been sitting on for over two years waiting for the perfect moment to give it to me.
Guys – apparently hiding a ring box in plain sight of the office, laundry room, etc. works for hiding it from your girl.
So back to the story. These guys got me GOOD. Oh man did they get me. This proposal had been in the works for nearly 3 months, it was in the works before I had even gotten on the boat. Nearly the entire boat had kept it a secret from me. They all worked to help David and to plan the perfect moment for both of us.
We weren’t fixing anything. We had come out to Duthier’s Point for us. The zodiac trip? That was the hardest part for them. How were they going to get me on that boat as a skeptical girl who would know something was up? They didn’t have to. As fate would have it, I walked right into it. The satellite phone they dragged along on the zodiac to call about fixing the weather station? It was to call home to tell my mom that I was engaged. All the cameras? Weren’t for penguin pictures. They were to capture our moment. These guys should be certified professional proposal planners. They thought of EVERYTHING. I had never felt so special in my whole life as I did that moment. I was dumbfounded and shocked, at a loss for words.
We finally headed back to the ship, where I learned that the entire ship was in on this plot. They greeted us with signs that spelled out “Congratulations!” How much more perfect could this day have gotten? This part may have made my eyes prickle a little bit.
WordPress wants to make me pay to upload videos so you’ll just have to listen to an accurate description of the video our friend Naomi made as we approached the ship:
Debbie (in drill sergeant voice) – “GET YOUR SIGNS UP HIGHER, KEEP THEM UP!!”
-woooo and yelling noises ensue-
Me (holding up hand) – “Can you see it from down here??”
Naomi (to self) – Holy crap you can see it from down there.
Naomi (to me) – “It looks awwwwwwweeeful!” (An inside joke on the ship.)
And thus concludes the story of how we got engaged in Antarctica. It may not be your ideal fairy tale but it was mine. I even stuck my brand new engagement ring in penguin poop and dinged it climbing down the rocks (the engagement ring store couldn’t even buff that one out….). To the crew (ship and scientists) who helped David plan this and to all my friends on LTER – I will never forget y’all and will always be thankful for the time we spent together and I am so glad you were there for our moment. Y’all are some of the coolest and kindest people I’ve ever met in life.
I want to say that this has been a really crazy year of my life: travelling overseas for the first time, going off the grid, getting engaged, writing a thesis, graduating, moving, getting my first job post-graduation, hating that job, Hurricane Harvey, depression from being denied for nearly every job I applied for, accepting my dream job, moving again, planning a wedding. You get the point. All of this has been so much sweeter with David by my side. He’s always come to my rescue when I’ve needed him and always lends an ear when I need to vent. He works hard to provide for us and to make sure we have a happy and comfortable life. I couldn’t have picked a better partner for this crazy journey.
He is my penguin in life. And I finally got my pebble. I took a chance on the guy I said I’d never date and it was one of the best decisions I ever made.
I hope you guys finally enjoyed the full story and I am so happy to finally be back in the blog writing game after a long hiatus of trying to work out all the kinks in life.
Who’s ready to talk about wedding dress shopping next?
–Katie AKA The Girl With the Big Bass (and the pebble)
Glacier hiking, whiskey over glacier ice, and a little light penguin stalking makes for an awesome time at Palmer Station.
After a smooth as butter crossing across the Drake Passage and the most scenic views I’d ever seen (read and see them HERE) in my life, we arrived at Palmer Station, Antarctica which is located on the Southern tip of Anvers Island. The first thing we were greeted with after leaving the Neumayer Channel and entered into the realm of Palmer was the smell. Some complained, but others like me relished in the smell of hundreds of penguins perched upon high rocks in the heat of breeding season. Although not visible, proud parents stood guard of tiny penguin chicks on several of these rocks surrounding station. We watched a few awkward Gentoo’s and Adelie’s slide and waddle around on the rocks.
As we approached the station, we were greeted with two VERY large icebergs that were taller than the ship. In order to dock we even had to sail right next to one. We were so close you could feel the cold coming off the berg. If you had a broomstick, you could have touched it. Don’t worry – since I’m here writing this…we didn’t share the same fate as the Titanic.
Folks at Palmer Station all walked out of the station to greet us with waves, excited to meet new people and receive a shipment of goods (and freshies! Remember talking about the freshies HERE?). We arrived at station a whole half a day early which was amazing because we had more time to explore and get to know the scientists living and working there.
Palmer Station itself sits at the bottom of a very large glacier, and for those willing to make the climb – it offers the most breathtaking views of the station, Arthur Harbor, and the back side of the mountains lining the Neumayer Channel.
My inner Texan panicked at the words “glacier hike”. I’ll just preface this with the fact that everyone around me is either East Coast or used to the snow or has been coming to Antarctica for years. Then you’ve got me. Little Texas girl who has maybe seen snow three times in her life and walked in ankle deep snow once. Yet I was brave enough to go along with this glacier hiking. After asking around and gathering as much advice from the rest of the scientists on board I finally figured out what to wear, bring, etc. Dressing in a single layer of long underwear with short sleeves and yoga pants on top I was ready (it’s really not THAT cold here guys). I layered two pairs of wool socks under the world’s largest and clunkiest “hiking boots” that I obtained from gear issue back in South America. Remember the last post where we talked about gear issue being completely cleaned out by the folks on the other research vessel (if not read it HERE)? That was the case here. These boots were HUGE and HEAVY. You’ll see where this ends up in a bit.
Grabbing sunglasses and my Mahi buff (I refused to leave that at home!) I was out the door, across the gangway, and joining my lab group to go on a hike. The first portion of the hike is through what is called the “backyard” behind Palmer Station. It is a very rocky pit underneath the glacier, which can get quite slippery when covered in snow and ice. A flock of Skua (really ugly and vicious brown birds, like angry ravens) settled in the rock a few hundred feet away from us. I made sure to keep my distance because they are notorious for attacking anything in their path.
After making it out of the backyard, that is where the climb began. First we climbed over dense ice that had been carved by melting snow (remember it is summer time here). After making it through this portion of the hike, came the hard part: the white fluffy shit. As a native Texan, it is engrained in my DNA to hate the white fluffy shit that is referred to as snow. Very pretty to look at, but we are not physically adapted to handle it.
My first step into the white fluffy shit landed me knee deep. It was at this moment in time that I began to think about all those skipped gym days and how actually pushing myself on the elliptical would have been a good idea. The initial hike through this white fluffy shit was not as bad as I thought. I kept pace with my group. Then came the fall.
Those damn clunky boots, like extra lead weights strapped to my feet betrayed me on this uphill hike. I felt my ankle twist below me and then searing pain. I said a few choice words and continued to try and keep pace with my group. The effort was in vain as I was left alone to enjoy the view and endure the white fluffy shit. Mind you, this is a glacier, a nearly vertical climb upward. The promise of the view kept me going as I struggled to drag my bum ankle through the snow. With the sun shining brightly above me, I wanted to strip down to shorts and a t-shirt. I began feeling like Chevy Chase in that scene from National Lampoon’s Vacation after they had been stranded in the desert.
After arriving at the top of this glacier looking like a war torn victim with even more hate for snow…it was worth it. In combination with being out of shape and making this climb…the view completely took my breath away.
Silence. You could hear nothing. No cars, no planes above, no chatter of other human beings. Just silence until the loud rumble of thunder in the background broke this silence. We listened as we heard the wind blow around us and glaciers cave into the sea below. I have a really hard time conveying to my readers just how pristine and beautiful this place truly is. Being off of the grid for the most part has been an amazing experience. You have a lot of time to just sit back, relax, and enjoy how great life truly is.
While others hiked down the other side of the glacier (and had to eventually come back up). I opted out with my bum ankle. I also wanted a few moments alone at the top of this glacier to just sit and reflect and not think about papers, deadlines, bills to be paid, and any other daily worries. This was probably one of the healthiest moments I’ve had lately with the amount of stress I had been under the months leading up to this voyage. I was truly grateful for it and I hope that by sharing my pictures and stories that my readers can draw off some of that positive energy.
After spending some time on top of the glacier, it was time to make my way back down which was a MUCH more enjoyable experience as my back was no longer turned to the view and that I did not have to struggle through thigh deep snow on an upward incline.
Once I returned to the ship….I showered and slept because it had been quite the day. Tomorrow’s adventure? A game of speed dating (David approved).
The next morning after sleeping in (until 10 AM!) I had a late breakfast with my favorite bearded sailor and we made plans to go walk around the station for a bit and hopefully get a tour. One of my lab mates showed us around. We explored the lab areas, galley, and then were taken to the recreational building. There was a fully stocked gym, cabins where scientists stayed, a lounge with a big tv, movies, etc., a bar (woohoo!) and a deck located on the other side of the bar (with amazing views of the harbor, of course!).
The best part was a tall, slightly rickety ladder that led to a crow’s nest on top of the rec building and guess what was at the top…..EVEN MORE AMAZING VIEWS!
The folks at Palmer are truly blessed to live in such a beautiful, ever changing environment. We were showed where the store was afterwards (it only opens for a half hour at a time and usually only when there are guests in town) and a really neat closet called “SKUA” but unlike the bird, there were no surprise attacks. It is simply a closet where station off-going occupants can donate items like clothes, costumes, etc. for others to take. There is no shortage of crazy costumes in the closet. We found a mullet wig, a flamingo hat (which I took as my lucky MOCNESS costume), a mermaid tail, and a whole stack full of sweaters fit for the rack at your local Goodwill.
After a tour, we were left to explore the station on our own, which resulted in some heavy penguin stalking. Yes readers, I did squeal in delight as I saw my first Gentoo penguin up close. There was even more shrieking as I watched it awkwardly slip and fall into the ice cold water. These awkward little tuxedo chickens will quickly work their way into the hearts of whoever is watching.
For those asking me for feathers, rocks, whole penguins (greedy bunch you are) it is strictly forbidden! In order to keep this continent pristine and healthy, the Antarctic Treaty states that you’re not allowed to bring any part of it back and you’re only allowed to be within 5 meters of any animal, or farther away if their behavior becomes altered due to your presence.
A quick lunch followed, and reading a book while sitting on the deck and basking in the sunshine. We got word that the station store was set to open at 5PM for thirty minutes. Everyone impatiently waited outside as this is the one chance in the cruise to buy alcohol since we have a dry ship (all alcohol gets labeled with your name and left at the Palmer Station bar). Oh and t-shirts and all that good crap for your family, of course. Spoiler alert: You’re all getting stickers!
At 6PM we suited up to go for a zodiac (smaller, raft looking boats) ride in Arthur Harbor. Donning a couple base layers, float coat, hat, gloves, water proof pants, and boots feeling much like Ralphie’s brother from A Christmas story, we hobbled into zodiacs from the floating dock next to the ship.
Brash ice (really flaky, thinner ice) from the two icebergs that greeted us when we docked at station now littered the waters around the ship and dock. Our zodiac tore through it easily as we made our way into Arthur Harbor. We got a close up view of two different penguin colonies (and smell). After checking the penguins out and watching them awkwardly hobble and slide into the water, we cruised over to some really cool icebergs. There’s something really special about the beautiful, turquoise blue ones that just captivate everyone who visits. Iceberg blue, as I have been calling it, is one of my new favorite colors.
We were able to see a few elephant seals snoozing lazily in the late afternoon sun on some of the bergs. Our zodiac captain even brought us next to a small, rocky piece of land (located right between the two penguin colonies of course) called “Seal Island” where most of the Palmer seals could be found.
We ventured a little further into the harbor checking out some icebergs when another scientist pointed out seeing a whale surface in the distance. Excitedly we began heading towards the whale. We must have found the most curious whale in the harbor because as we headed towards him, he decided to surface within feet of our zodiac. We all screamed, some out of excitement because whales are awesome, but in my case because A) I thought that whale was going to flip our zodiac B) The water is cold as a witch’s titty and C) For the second time in the past six months, I didn’t want to pee my pants again.
Luckily another passenger in the zodiac was quick enough to take some amazing pictures of the Humpback whale, so what I’m sharing on this blog is his work, thank you to Tyler from the Ducklow lab for sharing your pictures with the rest of us and catching that beautiful moment in time!
Sorry readers, I was not brave enough to bring my camera into the zodiac (I did have my phone though). We slowly puttered around this whale for at least 30 minutes as he put on a show for us, surfacing, waving, spewing water from his blowhole. I will say it again…I am not a mammals person, but realizing how small you are next to a creature that large and beautiful…it is really a humbling experience.
We rushed back to station to change and get ready for speed dating. David approved, of course! The game was much more like speed friending, it was a great opportunity to spend 4 minutes getting to know each of the scientists and what brought them to Palmer Station. There were no fellow Texans, sadly. We had score cards to score each of our dates, either you loved them, wanted to get to know them better, meh, or disliked them. Everyone was pretty interesting and only two people got dislikes. One was a crotchety old man, and the other was a lady who said she hated all Texans and donkeys. I can’t be friends with anyone who dislikes donkeys. That’s just a deal breaker. By far my favorite “date” of the night was a guy about a foot shorter than me whose name was “Hot Mike”. Anyone who shares whiskey with me out of a nalgene sample bottle gets a heart on the speed dating score sheet.
After spending some time getting to know the Palmer Station folks, we all took our purchased booze from the Palmer Station store (they had a REALLY extensive selection) and headed to the bar. Tonight was DANCE PARTY NIGHT!
On the porch of the bar was a large block of glacier ice older than your great grandparents. Probably sounds like some fancy city slicker bar, but it was just collected from the harbor via zodiac. We all spent some time socializing and asking about research, and how the hell did you get to Antarctica and then when everyone began feeling it…the dance party began.
To be in the Steinberg Zooplankton Lab…it is a requirement that you like to dance. Our advisor, Debbie was front and center on the floor. The party continued until 12:30 when the station bar shuts down. We all walked back to the ship, admiring penguins and seals along the way. There’s something to be said about having so much fun in the most desolate place on Earth.
The next day we spent some time on deck building our MOCNESS net. MOCNESS for all my non-fisheries folk stands for multiple opening and closing net and environmental sensing system. Pretty much it’s 9 nets that are strung on a frame and a scientist at a computer tells the net when to open and close each one. It allows us to sample and catch critters at different depths. This is really useful since we usually see quite a bit of diversity between the ranges of depths. The net will also give us a read out of environmental data such as temperature and salinity (how salty the water is).
We spent our morning adding the nets to the frames and what we call the “cod” ends. It’s a PVC pipe with mesh covered holes that all the animals get collected in as we pull the net through the water. They have to be fastened to the net with clips and then…duct taped for extra security. Duct tape is a staple in our lab!
After building the MOCNESS we spent some time discussing how all of the lab work and deck work would be done and did a few mock run throughs. Believe it or not…studying the zooplankton is so much more than just putting nets in the water. It takes a team to ensure that there is a successful net tow. We have an MT (marine technician) and another lab member on deck who are responsible for putting the net in the water, making sure flowmeters (they record the total volume of water that has gone through the net) are attached, communicating with the winch operator, bridge (where the captain and mates drive the ship from), and the lab. Inside the lab is another person who must record data pertaining to the net tow such as water temperature, salinity, wind speed and direction, sea ice coverage and wave height, GPS coordinates, time, specific tow and event numbers, and much more. Communication between all the parties via ship radio is key in this whole process! Not to mention in the rolling seas the deck is a VERY dangerous place. It can be slippery, objects such as weights, nets, frames, etc. can cause operators to trip. The ship has a large gate at the stern which opens up so nets can be deployed. A steep drop leads to the abyss below which on average is about 3000 feet deep (Usually it ranges from 600-9000 feet deep). A fall into this water would kill you within minutes as hypothermia and shock set in. However, if you’re working deploying nets (which I do most of the time!) you have to be tethered to the ship with a safety line that prevents you from falling overboard. The part that concerns me the most is that the nets are made with large, steel frames. A simple miscalculation by the winch operator or shift in the wind could cause the net to knock out or crush a person to death. A hydraulic A-frame at the stern aids the winch in lowering these nets into the water. You’re probably realizing by now just how large they are….they have radii of ~3 feet and ~6 feet and are probably about 30-50 feet long. I’ll stop here with describing the logistics…for more info you’ll have to read my next few posts about life on the ship and doing science at sea!
After building nets and getting some lab work done before leaving port (guys I actually science-d INSIDE the Palmer Station lab!) I decided to take a much needed nap after dinner. When I woke up, I realized I had missed trivia night at the station. I did happen to catch a great photo of an oddly shaped iceberg.
Early the next morning we pulled away from the station. I was nervous at the fact that the real deal was about to begin. I had already shared a week’s worth of time with all the experts on this boat…and now it was time to perform.
This global transportation bottleneck some 600 miles wide marks the convergence of the Atlantic, Pacific, and Southern Oceans. Its volatility, where the waves, winds, and currents all seemingly conspire against any intrepid adventurers, is due to the Drake’s position as a zone of climactic transition; the Passage divides the the cool, sub-polar conditions of the southernmost bits of South America from the frigid, polar regions of Antarctica. Creeping down the latitudes to reach the most favorable passage, either around the Cape or down to Antarctica, means weathering by turns the “roaring 40s,” “furious 50s,” and “screaming 60s.” Even Charles Darwin, who famously made comprehensive studies of the flora, fauna, and topography of these regions aboard the HMS Beagle in the mid-1800s, was sensationally seasick while rounding Cape Horn.
Other than the worry that my scientist friends would think that I was an idiotic redneck my biggest worry was crossing the Drake Passage. The Drake Passage is notorious for being some of the roughest waters on the planet. David has seen 40 foot waves in the Drake but some say the waves can get upwards of 60 feet. The biggest thing I had ever experienced? Eight footers in the Gulf of Mexico.
Apparently, grabbing the entire foot of the Magellan statue in the square at Punta Arenas (read about it here) worked. As much as I hate feet, I’m glad that I touched the golden foot because our forecasted weather was for 3-5 footers and sunny weather. This weather is unheard of. Seasoned veterans said that they had never seen conditions this good in their entire lifetime of coming to Antarctica.
After months of mentally preparing myself for being thrown around the ship, strapping myself into my bunk, dealing with an endless sea of vomit from sea sick people, etc. this was the ultimate letdown.
However, we had the most beautiful crossing – we barely even felt a thing. I spent time out on the deck with the rest of my crew building some nets and enjoying the sunshine. No one was miserable! Everyone’s been knocking on wood because we still have to get home…
We were also really lucky to sign up for shifts for the launch of “XBT’s”. Aka shooting little missiles from a gun (really wasn’t a gun, that I found to my dismay. I was expecting some cool explosions and a loud bang when in reality you simply pull a pin out and it kind of topples awkwardly over the rail) into the water that helped to map temperature and salinity gradients as well as help to discern the bathymetric profile within the Drake Passage. I never really paid attention to much in Oceanography but props to Mr. Coleman (Bob Ross of the ocean) because this was some pretty interesting stuff.
On New Year’s Eve we enjoyed a nice few games of bingo! I even won a round – part of my prize consisted of a toothbrush cover and temporary tattoos of puppies in shoes. We all celebrated at midnight with a dance party and sparkling apple juice on the bow of the ship (no alcohol is allowed underway or on the ship at all- just at port).
The next day we had the typical cabbage and black eyed peas meal in the galley (the cook is from Texas so the food is great). The boat was teeming with excitement because for the first time in 3 days we were about to reach land. We dropped some folks from NOAA’s branch of Antarctic research off at a little field camp at Cape Sheriff. Seasoned veterans the the science crew spending a season at the cape hopped into zodiacs loaded with supplies and helped set up camp. The scenery was beautiful – but there was more to come the next day as we were set to sail through the Neumayer Channel – one of the most picturesque places on the continent.
After dropping our seal studying friends off at the cape, we were headed straight for Palmer Station which is located on Anvers Island. I can’t even begin to describe the scenery to you. It was like placing yourself in a post card. A really freaking cold post card.
I kicked off the morning enjoying a light snow and a coffee with my bearded fellow on the bridge. It was nice to take in all the scenery together and a perfect way to start the morning!
Mountains towered on both sides the ship – the channel was so narrow, you feel like you could reach out and touch them.
Penguins swam next to the ship, curiously checking out our orange hull. Humpback whales surfaced in the distance (a juvenile even surfaced right next to the ship). I’m not much of a mammal person at all…but seeing that was kind of cool.
A majority of the people on the ship spent the entire day on the bridge taking pictures. One of the engineers joked, “If I had a dollar for every picture taken today up here, hell I’d be rich!” He would have been $658 richer by the time I finished with the day…but multiply that by about 20 excited scientists. My roommate probably took a couple thousand photos at least. You could never have enough pictures of this place – it is just so beautiful.
After my camera batteries were nearly dead and I couldn’t stand to be social anymore – I ventured to the back 01 deck for some quiet time. I spent the rest of my afternoon laying in the sun…with NO JACKET…enjoying a good book. It was hard to pay attention to the book as we continued to pass by aqua blue icebergs (some carrying very cute, and clumsy penguins) and even more mountains.
We even passed a huge iceberg full of seals, and one lonely penguin. I thought for a minute there I’d have to put my kindle down and watch some National Geographic style carnage unfold…and of course document it for all my dear readers. Sorry guys – nature is nature and carnage happens regularly out here in the Antarctic.
Our trip through the Neumayer channel came to a close as we pulled up to Palmer Station – an American research base where we’ve been docked for the past few days now. We were greeted by two VERY large icebergs and a very large penguin colony (there were babies!) as we pulled up to the station.
The next edition of this blog will detail the good times and eclectic folks we met at Palmer Station…it even includes me being buried almost waist deep hiking up a glacier and taking a zodiac ride where we were almost flipped by a surfacing Humpback whale. Maybe if I have time during our many net tows and MOCNESS tows (please read that in Dr. Alvarado’s voice all my TAMUG friends) I’ll be able to get plenty of pics to give everyone a run down of what life on the ship is like.
Stay classy my friends. If you need me I’ll probably be downing a fifth of Jack at Palmer Station and stalking some penguins. This….is the life.
I left Texas with a heavy heart after telling my favorite little fish at work goodbye and hugging my family tight. I thought about how much taller my two nephews would be when I returned. I hoped that orange Julius (our cat) didn’t feel abandoned. I worried that he might have chosen to run away, but let’s be real the only thing that fatty runs for is food being dropped in the bowl. I shoved my face full of Whataburger and Dr. Pepper as a last meal.
Security through Houston was a breeze and I even had time to do some people watching at my gate (See my last post here). However, the first flight began with a rocky start. I was crammed into an express jet that had an overhead that wasn’t even able to fit my carry on. Typical. Frazzled and panicked that I’d have to check the bag that held the most important shit I had to pack for this trip, the flight attendant let me unpack the bag and fit the contents into the overhead (you’re welcome for me transporting your camera, David, it was the culprit). For a minute there I was that bumbling idiot “You can’t check my bag, you can’t have it!” But don’t worry guys – this isn’t where the post ends. The scene from Meet the Parents did not end up becoming real life for me.
I definitely looked like a frazzled idiot. I want to thank all the folks on that flight for their help. Also not thank you to the women in the back who whispered back and forth about blessing my poor little heart. For all my non-southern readers, this basically means “Screw you” in southern speak.
Also, let’s take a minute to talk about stress sweat. Readers – we are past the point of awkward comfortability in this blog. You already got a chance to read about how at the age of 23, I peed my pants (And if you haven’t you can read all about it here).
Stress sweat is a real thing. My poor hoodie at this point of the bag debacle had rings down to my side. Embarrassing. The poor guy next to me probably thought he had to sit next to the stinky kid. I swear I smelled like peaches because my dove deodorant has never failed me!
Dallas (DFW) –> Santiago, Chile (SCL)
Then came riding the tram in the DFW airport which was much like being in a Guatemalan taxi (which I’ve never been in but my friend Corbin decided to coin this phrase and it stuck). It only took me a couple rides to get to the correct gate. The flight itself wasn’t bad, it had Wi-Fi, movies, and even a charging port. This was the really long, overnight flight (about 9.5 hours).
Dallas (DFW) –> Santiago, Chile (SCL) CONTINUED
Let’s talk for a bit about trying to sleep on a plane. As a person who can easily sleep sitting up in class, in a shark cradle on a rocking boat, or even just passed out on the floor, I could not sleep on this flight. It was the most uncomfortable thing on the planet. I joked when USAP (United States Antarctic Program) sent me a little sheet about relieving cramps, improving circulation, and discomfort while flying. The cramps were real. I think I slept for about 2 hours. The food was actually pretty decent. A fellow scientist here got an upgrade to first class – which we were all completely jealous of…
Upon landing in Santiago, Chile is where the real circus began. I thought I would be coming in alone, but the group from the Northeast arrived at the same time. The “science crew” as we called the 25 people crazy enough to come down here to study, was marshalled through immigration by a little agent named Jimmy. I happily collected my first “real” stamp on my passport, finally (sorry guys I can’t even count our cruise as a first foreign country experience, being herded like cattle through a tourist fronted place and eating at Margaritaville is not travelling).
I am thankful that this leg of the trip went well because I was the most worried about getting lost in the Santiago airport.
Santiago, Chile (SCL) –> Puerto Montt, Chile (PMC)
Luggage had to be recollected and checked again for our now domestic flights. Our customs forms were snapped up by Jimmy and we passed through with no issue at all (don’t worry family, I was well taken care of). The drug dogs were particularly cute and not as serious as their American counterparts.
Mounds of luggage and the “science crew” were then transported to Jimmy’s office where we would wait between the two flights. With so much spare time I got my first taste of Chilean food and dose of culture shock. We decided to dine at a place called Gatsby’s but first had to go to the ATM to get pesos. I really should have taken the time to figure out what the conversion rate was. I got 150,000 from the ATM which was equivalent to about $220 USD. My first foreign meal was “Ave con palta” which translate roughly to sandwich with avocado, chicken, and mayonnaise. Chileans LOVE mayonnaise. I was able to figure this out on the first day after receiving a sandwich with about half a year’s portion worth of mayonnaise. Also once you venture into Chile water is no longer just “agua” like my ignorance had hoped. You must order either “aqua sin gas” or “aqua con gas”. Do you want water with no bubbles or sparkling water? Thankfully someone with better Spanish could tell me what the waitress was rattling off furiously trying to explain to me. In order to pay the bill, you must as for “la cuenta” which is something I remembered from my first basic Spanish class (gracias senora Bailey). Unlike the states, when you sit down to eat a meal as a group you enjoy one another’s company and the waitress/waiter will not burden you with a check in hopes to get rid of you.
After eating lunch, it was time to begin the process of re-checking bags, going through security, and then waiting at the gate for the next round of flights. The flight to Puerto Montt was particularly gorgeous. We passed over many mountain ranges, rolling hills, and even a couple of volcanoes from what I could understand. I was told by seasoned veterans that the best scenery would come on the next flight from Puerto Montt to Punta Arenas. While waiting at the gate in Santiago for the last small stretch of flights, all I could think about how was in my life I had never wanted to lay horizontal and drink a beer so bad in my life.
Puerto Montt, Chile (PMC) –> Punta Arenas, Chile (PUQ)
Once we arrived at Puerto Montt, we were lucky enough to stay seated on the same plane (which had an AWESOME amount of leg room). I was thankful to not have to do the airport shuffle again but this would have been the easiest navigable airport of all that we visited. Puerto Montt has exactly one runway and five gates. You can see the entire airport from your window just sitting on the tarmac.
After picking up another round of passengers, we were ready for the last flight of the journey down South, from Puerto Montt to Punta Arenas, Chile. As the others had indicated, the scenery was even more beautiful before as some type of foreshadowing that the further south we went, the prettier it got. I spent most of this plane ride trying to sleep for a few minutes then waking up to snap a picture, sleep, snap, sleep, snap.
Finally flying over the blue waters of this port town, we had arrived in Punta Arenas. From my airplane window I immediately recognized the bright orange hull of the ship that I’d call home for the next 45 days. My heart fluttered a bit thinking I was also a little bit closer to being reunited again with David after almost two months of being apart. I am very thankful that we’re getting to cheat the system and win more time together. I was also thankful that once we arrived in Punta Arenas, I’d have my own tour guide who had spent a couple years down here.
The first night in Punta Arenas
From the airport the “science crew” was ushered out with bags in hand (or cart in our cases which are FREE at airports down here) to vans where we loaded up and headed for a hotel for a night stay on the town. Once we arrived at Diego del Almagro we were issued key cards to our rooms. If you have never traveled to and stayed in another foreign country let me bestow a bit of advice upon you: apparently you have to “activate” the lights before they will actually come on. I decided to use the bathroom, change, and freshen up for dinner a la phone flashlight because I could NOT figure out how to get the lights on in my room. Apparently you have to insert your key card into a port near the door to activate the lights. I was able to figure it out as others had also shared my same struggle. I was thankful that I was not looked upon as the dumb redneck child “Hey y’all, how do you get these fancy lights to come on?”
So I should begin by explaining that this “science crew” is divided up into a few separate labs. The purpose of this LTER cruise is for scientists of many, specific disciplines to come together to look at the overall health of the Antarctic ecosystem. Most of the scientists here are veterans, who come every year to continue with their research. Much like explaining the cafeteria in the movie Mean Girls, you have your “cliques” or as we like to call them, labs.
First you have your phytoplankton crew, commonly called the “Ducklings” led by a man with the last name Ducklow. This group works closely with our second group, the oceanographers. Their work is definitely fascinating and makes me wish I would have paid more attention to Mr. Coleman as a super senior in oceanography at A&M. The third group is us, the zooplankton group, or as we’ve been calling ourselves the “Steinburglers” (our principle investigator’s (PI) last name is Steinberg) or “The Copepod Crew” or “The Krillers”. I like to think that we are definitely the most fun. At our first dinner, the question our PI had asked was, “Do you all like to dance?” and I knew immediately that this was probably the lab I belonged in. The fourth group are the birders who come along to study the penguin colonies and spend some time camping out with them to observe their behavior. The final group are the mammal folks, which much like the birders are doing some really cool science. But Katie, you definitely don’t like marine mammals most of you would say. These guys are probably doing the most bad ass form of science on this ship, and have changed my opinion of mammal people (sorry but most of the barbies we’re forced to be with in the MARB program at TAMUG are NOT cut out for this work). So here it is….these guys go out in zodiacs (smaller boats) to shoot at whales with cross bows. WHAT?! These are really special crossbows that actually take out a plug of tissue and blubber that these guys will be using to study populations and individuals on a molecular level. The arrows are designed to float after the plug of tissue has been removed, at which the mammal guys retrieve from the water and store samples from. And in case you’re wondering, you have to be part of the lab to actually shoot one of the whales (I am saddened by this). I have to say that overall this is a VERY fun crew full of knowledgeable people. I am honored to be here and even to be considered a part of this crew because what these folks do is truly amazing. The spirit here is very collaborative. Each group works together for the greater good of the cause and this really makes for an amazing learning environment for the couple of undergrads who were lucky enough to tag along.
If you want to see exactly what we are doing out here, please watch the documentary about the LTER program and crew that is on Netflix: The Antarctic Edge: 70 degrees South. You’ll get to see all the characters I work with and the type of science we will be conducting.
So back to venturing around in Punta Arenas, the science crew began splitting into labs for dinner and the night out on the town. Our lab chose to eat at a restaurant called “El Broccolino” which actually had no broccoli on the menu.
Most of the main dishes here are seafood based since the town is built around a small port. I settled on some conger and king crab drizzled in scallop sauce. Conger is a very flaky, white meat fish with a wonderful texture and somewhat sweet taste. Paired with a nice white Chilean wine….I was in heaven. I was also able to eat a thai spiced octopus tentacle which was delicious! My best advice for those visiting another country is to just immerse yourself in the culture and TRY EVERYTHING! I even tried the local drink of choice, a pisco sour (a liquor tasting like tequila and wine mixed with some sweet and sour mix and sometimes a blend of spices). El Broccolino did not make me a fan of this as they spiked the drink with some type of weird spices, like a mix of nutmeg and cayenne pepper. I decided that I’d have to try my second pisco sour somewhere else. After spending a fair amount of time socializing and getting to know one another, we asked for “la cuenta”. It was approximately 10:30 PM when we left. It does not get dark down here until about 11:00 PM and becomes light around 5:30 AM. It is VERY weird getting used to but the increased light really gives you more energy.
Our next stop of the night was to the local watering hole, a real hole in the wall type of bar called “Colonial”. For all my Galveston friends, this place reminds me of Murphy’s except for instead of pizza they serve a dish with French fries, mayonnaise, and hot dog wieners to their drunken clientele. I got my first taste of being ripped off as I did not speak very much Spanish. I order a “Jack Daniels numero siete y Coke” and was given about half a pint glass’ worth of whiskey and a diet coke. For some reason I was charged 19,000 pesos when most drinks are around 4,000-9,000. I really didn’t know any better so I figured I’d just continue on with my buzz and shut up.
At the stroke of midnight, a short bearded man with a huge smile entered the bar. Much like the redneck version of Cinderella, prince charming and I had a couple more whiskey drinks before he walked me back to my hotel. Punta Arenas is full of huge, stray dogs. These strays are very friendly and after a couple pats, will follow you anywhere. There are many husky, lab, and German shepherd mixes. If I had all the money in the world, I’d open a shelter and possibly adopt all of the Punta Arenas dogs. Unfortunately, since they are strays, there’s no telling what kind of diseases they may actually carry. I was scolded by David as I ran through the streets wanting to love all the dogs. After we parted ways, I settled into bed to ready myself for the busy day that would lie ahead.
The last day in port
After a good night’s sleep, we began our third day of the journey. Our busy schedule included wellness checks, receiving cold weather gear, boarding the ship, and unloading our large shipping container of gear and organizing it into a lab.
A short, ten minute walk from our hotel to the port brought us to the USAP warehouse where we were broken into small groups and led into a room, much interrogation style, and asked a few questions mostly to make sure that we did not have Ebola. After answering questions, a freaking laser beam was pointed at your forehead to make sure that you were not running a fever. I’m not entirely sure how accurate this was since my sweaty forehead was probably hotter than the rest of my body. I was told I was “okay”.
After making sure everyone had a flu shot (I got mine in the states and not in the creepy warehouse!) we were ushered into a small room for gear pick up. Duffel bags with what was supposed to be our size gear (we mail in a sheet with our measurements) were distributed. Short doesn’t always equal skinny and everything in my bag was an extra small. I had the joy of exchanging everything and being questioned. Sorry folks, my cornbread fed body isn’t squeezing into a pair of bibs (rubber pants with suspenders) that is a size extra small. Talk about a busted can of biscuit dough looking body. I don’t even think I could fit a leg into those damn things.
Gear was VERY limited due to the fact that the other Antarctic R/V (research vessel) had raided their stocks. I was lucky enough to receive my waterproof deck suit, steel toe deck boots, classic red parka with USAP patch, hiking boots, face mask, goggles, fleece pants, gloves of every type, neck gaiter, and a couple of hats. It was much of a scene of chaos as everyone struggled to get gear in their size, switching between each other, trying on, etc.
Once I arrived on the ship (our luggage and gear was to be delivered) we began unloading a shipping container full of our lab gear. We spent the morning until lunchtime unloading this container which contained our nets, glassware, incubators, and everything we needed to do science with. We made a brisk walk across the town square after leaving the port to a small sandwich shop where we ate maybe pork? sandwiches and returned back to the ship. I am going to hope that this weird meat was in fact pork and not Punta Arenas stray dog or something of the sort (as I’m writing this I’m on day four and still not sick so no worries).
We had a short safety meeting and got some general info about the house rules on the ship. We then broke back into our groups and began setting up our lab. Organizing glassware, tools, and materials into drawers and labeling. At the end of the day we cleaned up and ventured back out on the town for some comida y cervezas (food and beer all of my non Spanish speaking friends).
Round two of pisco sours went much better at a little restaurant called “La Luna”. I had another version of the pisco sour called the pisco calafate. Calfate refers to these tiny little black berries that are crushed and emulsified into a syrup. The sweetness of the calafate berries definitely balanced the drink out and I was very impressed. Food once again was delicious, portions are absolutely loaded with seafood here. I order a spicy baked shrimp (which actually came in more of a soup form) each spoonful of the soupy mixture yielded at least 2-3 shrimp. Once again, I was in heaven.
From here we took some time to explore the square which contained a very large statue of Magellan in the center. The bronze statue had age, but its foot was shiny. It is good luck when crossing the Drake Passage (the area of the ocean that divides Antarctica from South American) to actually rub the foot of the statue. Looking at the statue you’ll see that it is an honored tradition that many folks still participate in. It reminded me much of rubbing the anchor at TAMUG before exam day. I grabbed the entire foot of the statue like a maniac with a fetish because having a rough Drake crossing was not something I was ready for yet.
From the square, we ventured into a very elegant hotel bar where we indulged in a glass or two of “vino blanco”. For all my wine drinking friends, the Chilean white wines are EXCELLENT!
A short walk to Colonial was next. We all debated whether toxifying our livers or sleep was in order. You can probably guess what a bunch of scientists stuck on a ship for 45 days would have picked. There is absolutely no drinking allowed on the ship because A) we are at work and B) it is VERY dangerous. The ship alone is dangerous enough with having to step over door frames, handle the world’s steepest stairs, and navigate through large water tight doors (which can easily take a finger off if they close on it).
After several Jack Daniels y Cokes we all stumbled back to the ship celebrating our last night of freedom. David had met up with us after he got off work and I was glad he was there to baby sit me. I thought it was a wonderful idea to climb into an abandoned shopping cart on the sidewalk and he thought it was an even better idea to push me back to the ship in said cart. So here I was drunkenly rolling through the streets of a small, South American port city with the love of my life in a grocery cart. If you asked me a year ago if I would have participated in such shenanigans, I would have thought you were crazy.
After stumbling back up into the ship (David, thanks for all of your sober help) we all parted ways into our respective quarters and thus was the end of our last night in port.
After a light snooze David and I were able to venture out on the town for breakfast and a stroll before departing from Punta Arenas. The Unimarc is a super market a few blocks away from the ship. We picked up some last minute items and went to a small empanada shop for breakfast. After strolling back onto the ship they began loading a large crate of what we call “freshies”. This is the code word for fruits and vegetables which people run to the galley for at meal time to enjoy since they only last for the first couple of weeks. Avocadoes go very quickly.
After loading freshies, picking up a few more scientists, and getting some gear on board we were ready to depart. Working in the lab, I could feel the rumble of the main engines beneath my feet and knew that David was hard at work getting us out of port!
I hope everyone enjoyed the post – in a couple days I’m hoping to get some pictures and stories up about sailing through the Drake Passage and Neumayer Channel. I’ve also had some requests to share what it’s like to be on board! As soon as I clean my bunk up I’d love to share with you guys.