Getting Underway

The engine started with a tremendous roar and a thrum.

The following is part of a multi-part series . Melissa Baffa, Vice President of Program and Volunteer Services for GSCCC, is part of the Corps of Exploration this year on the adventure of a lifetime. This blog series will chronicle her dive into the Unknown.

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The engine started with a tremendous roar and a thrum. “The amazing vibrating bed,” I thought to myself, and laughed. My alarm was set for 7 am. It was only 6. There was no way I was sleeping any longer. I got up and dressed, grabbed my camera, and found my way outside.

I'd been admiring this bridge from afar.

The light was the kind of golden early morning light that makes getting up early worth it. We were just approaching the large span bridge we’d been able to see from where we’d been docked the past several days. The air was warm, not hot, but humid enough to fog my lens at first.

Getting the hull cleaned.

On the upper deck, the breeze created by our passing was refreshing. Several of us gathered there as we slowly trundled out toward the Pacific. After a short while, we stopped and dropped anchor. A small boat pulled up alongside, and the hull cleaning began.

Divers used scrub brushes, spatulas, and a large double-brushed device reminiscent of a floor polisher to clean the hull. While they worked, Julye, the ship’s documentarian, filmed them underwater with a Go-Pro camera mounted on a pole. 

Refresher training in the control van.

Now that we were going to be underway, there was work for me to do. Several of us “onsigners” attended a safety briefing. Then Juan (a UCSB student working on his master’s degree, and serving on the ship as a data logger) and I attended refresher training in the control van.

Frigate bird

By now, the sun had risen high in the sky and it was HOT. Stepping into the air conditioned van was wonderful. We ran through basic procedures and asked a million questions. But really, the true test will be on the first watch that I sit. I am glad to know that either Jack or Bob (from the video team) will be sitting next to me.

I didn't capture any lightning. The clouds were intense!

As we were wrapping up the training, we heard the engine come to life again with a shuddering growl. “That’s Thor!” Bob exclaimed. I was elated. We were finally on our way to the Galapagos!

Stepping out of the control van, I looked behind us. Huge thunderheads towered in the sky, and lightning streaked the sky. We were leaving the area just in time. Heading back downstairs, I checked emails and Facebook, and saw that my friend Christy had spotted me on www.nautiluslive.org while I was in the control van! It’s so incredible that I can share this experience so immediately with everyone.

Brown boobie

The afternoon was free. I spent it on the uppermost deck by myself, listening to music and admiring the brown boobies that soared and swooped in front of the ship. They seemed to be using our wake to their advantage, diving occasionally to snatch up a fish disturbed by our progress.  And then I saw something large splash in the water to starboard. Earbuds out, I scrambled to that side of the deck, camera in hand. After a few minutes, I heard a wet plop! and saw a ring spreading on the water. Watching intently, I heard it again, to my left. What the heck?

 

Acrobatic rays leaping into the air

And then I saw – rays! Leaping out of the ocean, some several feet in the air, and bellyflopping back down into the water. I couldn’t believe it! I watched and waited, and started to see the pattern of their behavior, and after a few more minutes, was successful in capturing some photographs of their acrobatic feats.

The sun sank lower in the sky, and the water took on that marvelous greasy look when it’s particularly glassy out. It was time for dinner, time to head downstairs again. A beautiful sunset rounded out the day. We have about three days’ worth of transit time to the Galapagos. Who knows what amazing things we will see next?

Skip to the next blog post by Melissa: To the Galapagos: the day in photos

I call this photo "The One That Got Away" - look closely, and you can see where the bird entered the water, where it's coming out, and the fish it's pursuing

Sometimes Even the Best-Laid Plans Go Awry

The plan for today was simple: refuel and take on fresh water, offload the garbage, and move out for a hull cleaning at anchor.

The following is part of a multi-part series. Melissa Baffa, Vice President of Program and Volunteer Services for GSCCC, is part of the Corps of Exploration this year on the adventure of a lifetime. This blog series will chronicle her dive into the Unknown.

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The plan for today was simple: refuel and take on fresh water, offload the garbage, and move out for a hull cleaning at anchor.

The Galapagos Islands are recognized around the world as a treasure worth a painstaking effort to preserve. A thorough cleaning of the Nautilus’s hull is required in order to enter the waters surrounding this environment, and it is a process that can be rather lengthy, and must be undertaken during daylight hours.

The ship is secured so the "bunkering" can start.

Shifting the ship slightly, redocking, offloading the garbage, and getting the refueling going went relatively well. The process was to take about two hours. But the hours slipped by, and by, and by. The blue skies gave way to clouds; the clouds parted and formed again. Through it all, the sun beat down relentlessly. The air was humid enough to fog my camera lens.

Frigate birds circled lazily overhead, and giant container ships sent the Nautilus rocking as they passed by on their way toward the canal. 

Frigate birds sailed overhead - beautiful!

The ship started to list from taking on the fuel. Half a day passed, and by lunch it was known that the refueling was taking too long; we would have to wait and have the hull cleaned tomorrow. We would be spending another night in port.

“Housekeeping” tasks and catching up filled the hours; people gathered and chatted and got to know each other better. Planning, writing, editing, training, brainstorming, exploring ideas: a lot goes on quietly during a day stuck in port.

Tomorrow we will move to the cleaning location early, and then be on our way. 3-4 days until we get to the Galapagos. In the meantime, we plan and we dream.

Skip to the next blog post by Melissa: Getting Underway

Awaiting Melissa's E/V Nautilus Live watch!

Melissa Baffa boards the E/V Nautilus today, heads through the Panama Canal and sails the Pacific for a three-week expedition to the Galapagos Islands as a 2015

OET Science Communications Fellow.

See press below.  Meanwhile, stay-tuned as we learn Melissa's watch schedule for live interactions at http://www.nautiluslive.org/

Ventura County Star
http://www.vcstar.com/news/local-news/ventura/girl-scout-exec-ready-for-ocean-exploration_13505083

Panama

My heart leapt into my throat as I caught my first glimpse of the ship.

The following is part of a multi-part series to run over the next few months. Melissa Baffa, Vice President of Program and Volunteer Services  for GSCCC, will be joining the Corps of Exploration this year on the adventure of a lifetime. This blog series will chronicle her dive into the Unknown.

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My heart leapt into my throat as I caught my first glimpse of the ship. I had studied her in numerous photographs, so already she felt like an old friend. But my thoughts raced – home! For the next three weeks! There she was – the Nautilus!

The E/V Nautilus in Panama.

The Adventure Begins

My shuttle to LAX was scheduled for 1:15 am. My bags were packed, two very full and very heavy carry-ons...

The following is part of a multi-part series to run over the next few months. Melissa Baffa, Vice President of Program and Volunteer Services  for GSCCC, will be joining the Corps of Exploration this year on the adventure of a lifetime. This blog series will chronicle her dive into the Unknown.

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My shuttle to LAX was scheduled for 1:15 am. My bags were packed, two very full and very heavy carry-ons, thankfully with very sturdy zippers. My brain and body were a buzzing mixture of excitement, anxiety, exhaustion, and anticipation. My emotions ran very near to the brim. A certain look from my husband or one of my kids was enough to send one or both of us into tears.

Three weeks' worth of stuff packed into two small carry-on bags: hope those zippers will hold!

Three weeks! Such a very long time to be away. So exciting. But so overwhelming at the same time. My list of things to accomplish before 1:15 am was two pages long. So much to do!

It’s funny how the littlest things that you normally take for granted in day-to-day life take on so much significance on a day like today. Taking the kids to school, having dinner together as a family, tucking them in at night. When you realize that these little actions will be so dearly missed while you are away, it really brings things into focus.

And finally, the last few moments at home had come. When I stepped on the porch in the cool night air, it was so silent in our neighborhood, my husband and I whispered so as not to break it. My mind raced again and again through my list….did I forget anything? Was there something else to do? I went in and woke and kissed the kids goodbye, as I had promised, and then there was the crunch of tires on the gravel outside:  my shuttle had arrived. It was time. The adventure of a lifetime had begun. 

Arriving at the airport at 3 am means nothing is open yet, not even the ticket counter. A small crowd of us stood and stared at each other, slowly swelling to about 100 before the ticket counter opened. An uneventful check-in, pass through TSA, and wait in the terminal, and then – whoosh! – we were off on the nearly six hour flight to Panama. 

Rain spattered the windows as we arrived at the airport.

It was cloudy as we made our final descent. The view out the window was streaming wisps of gray of white, and slowly through the mist I could start to see the ocean below. Ocean, ocean, swells, clouds, and then suddenly, ships! Dozens of them, all lined up, headed in or out of the canal. Dropping lower, I could now make out the heavy swells headed in toward shore. The color of the water changed as we got closer to land, and suddenly, I could tell the water was very shallow, and there were long lines of breakers peeling in toward shore, and it was low tide: hundreds of yards of mudflats reached out toward the ocean. A city rose, all cement and steel and glass, looking very out of place clinging to the muddy banks. Then we were swooping over green tangled growth, water everywhere. 

Outside the airport in Panama City.

It was raining. When I stepped out of the plane into the gangway, the heat was oppressive. I put my hand on the glass to confirm that it was truly that warm outside. The line at Immigration was long and moved very slowly. Customs was even longer. But finally, I made it through. There was a driver waiting to pick me up outside of Customs.

As he whipped through traffic, I was very thankful to not have to drive myself. The lanes are barely marked, people swerve and dodge like lunatics, and the only signals drivers seem to use are their horns. By the time we got to the hotel, I was feeling carsick. By now, I could not contain my yawns. I had been up for more than 32 hours straight. 

A huge photograph of an ammonite (nautiloid creature) welcomed me as I entered my hotel room.

After checking in to the hotel, phoning home, and taking a shower, the city called to me to explore it with my camera. But the bed called louder with its crisp white sheets. Plunging into it, I rose a few hours later to order a meal, watch a little TV, and return to bed for more. Panama would have to wait. The view from my window would have to suffice. For now, I had to recharge.

Tomorrow, it would be REALLY real – tomorrow I would step foot on the ship for the first time.

Skip to the next blog post by Melissa: Panama

Insomnia

I can't sleep. I toss and turn and try all kinds of tricks, but I can't silence my brain...

The following is part of a multi-part series to run over the next few months. Melissa Baffa, Vice President of Program and Volunteer Services for GSCCC, will be joining the Corps of Exploration this year on the adventure of a lifetime. This blog series will chronicle her dive into the Unknown.

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I can't sleep. I toss and turn and try all kinds of tricks, but I can't silence my brain. My body's tired. My brain is tired. My eyes are heavy, and I am wracked with yawns. But I just...can't...throttle...down.

It has been this way since I received word that I was selected for the fellowship. I was notified in late January. In February, I got the answer to the question that everyone was asking: where are you going? Panamá and the Galápagos! Bucket list destinations! The possible destinations that gave me goosebumps when I was applying for the fellowship! Discovery site of hydrothermal vents, incubator of ideas on evolution during Darwin's voyage aboard the Beagle. The stories I could tell about these places! The stories I have told about these places as a teacher.....My mind would not - could not - rest.

In early March, I reported to Rhode Island for training. Leading up to the trip, I was a wreck. So much to think about, so much to learn. I realized I already had books on my bookshelf that Dr. Ballard had written. Reading them, getting excited, I soon concluded that I just could not indulge in them before bed. 

That was part of the insistent spinning that gripped my brain.

Ideas swirling, possibilities rearing their heads late at night when the house was silent. I immersed myself in books, articles, TV shows, and podcasts about the ocean, about exploration, about geology and the Galápagos Islands. Friends starting sending me links, recommending more things to watch and listen to and read. Neurons firing, waking even from fitful slumber with scraps of dreams of ships and salty water.

Ideas for programs, venues and connections in the communities we serve, the ways we could reach out and transfer this excitement to the nearly 11,000 Girl Scouts in our council.

The night before I left for training, I slept for maybe three hours. Even then, I overslept my shuttle pickup and had to scramble to get a later one to pick me up. I was sweating all the way to the airport. But the rest of the journey was uneventful.

Meeting the other fellows and the staff at the Ocean Exploration Trust, I was so impressed with how dynamic and interesting and smart everyone was. Every single person I spoke with was fascinating. I was seriously jet-lagged (with the spring time change heaped on top of the three-hour time difference), and the days were long, so for the first time in several weeks I collapsed easily at night, and drifted off after only a few fitful flops in the crisp hotel sheets.

I think one of the greatest revelations of my adulthood is that even the greats in their fields often go through times in their lives being afraid that they will be discovered to be a fraud. "Will they find out I'm not as good as they think I am?" Maybe it's that sense that there is always someone better, someone with more natural talent, someone younger and just ascending and full of potential...and maybe these very doubts and fears help to fuel those stars and leaders and makers of history because they feel that nipping at their heels. It propels them onward. These are also the things that keep me up at night.

But then in a moment like this, when I stand in a room of great people and realize I belong, it's a stunning realization, and suddenly I take a deep breath and square my shoulders and tell myself "You got this." 

I reflect on my first time on camera. Scared to death. Made it through. It took longer to do my hair than to do the interview. Went really well. You got this.

First time on the radio? Heart in my throat. What if I say the wrong thing? There's no do-over. What if I'm boring? Turns out it was totally fun, couldn't wait to do it again. And again. You got this.

First time addressing a large crowd? That sea of faces, the tight feeling in my chest, the breathlessness, losing my place in my speech. Stopped. Remembered to make eye contact, to find a friend, smiling and nodding in the crowd. A gulp of air. A smile. Slow down. You got this.

You see, every time I challenge myself to do something scary, it turns out I make it through just fine. And I get a little better and I get a little stronger, and I look forward to the next crazy thing I sign up for.

So, yeah, I can't sleep. There are days I long for my bed more fiercely than my next meal. My mind roils with thoughts and plans and doubts and fears. It's this crazy stew of excitement and exhaustion.

I count down the weeks until my leg of the expedition. I tune in to the Nautilus Live website, listen to the commentary, log in and watch the questions come in on the back end. Celebrate the expedition's early, amazing, and viral encounter with a sperm whale.

I can't sleep, but it's not doubt that's keeping me awake. It's excitement. It's possibility. It's adventure. It's the unknown. 

You got this.

Skip to the next blog post by Melissa: The Adventure Begins