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Daily Updates: May 2003
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Daily Updates: June 2003
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View Today's Slideshow!

mostly sunny
Mostly Sunny
74°F (23.3°C)
Latitude: 38° 13'N
Longitude: 60° 29'W
Wind Direction: WNW
Wind Speed: 12 Knots
Sea State: 2
Sea Temperature: 77°F (25°C)
Swell(s) Height: 4 Foot
Barometric Pressure: 1020.5 MB
Visibility: Unrestricted

what's to eat

Scrambled eggs
Hash browns
Breakfast-to-go sandwich

Cream of chicken and rice soup
Ham and cheese sandwiches
Chicken/rosemary ravioli in marinara sauce
Brussels sprouts
Potato chips
Salad bar
Chocolate cream pie

Grilled lamb chops
Broiled halibut filet with remoulade sauce
Potatoes O'Brien
Basil pesto couscous
Mixed vegetables
Broccoli flowers
Herbed focaccia with roasted garlic
Salad bar
Mixed berry shortcake

Once in a lifetime
June 15, 2003
By Joe Appel

Almost everyone aboard RV Atlantis has been here before. Not necessarily on this ship, or in this part of the planet’s oceans, but they’ve been at sea for an extended period of time. Crew members have made their living here for years. The oceanographers regularly leave their laboratories and venture into the world to find the samples that are the heart of their research. Not only have they done this before, they’ll probably do it again.

It’s different for me. Like the Dive and Discover photographer, Ian Yurdin, my job doesn’t directly relate to marine life or marine research. I’ve been extremely lucky to come along on Expedition 7; as a writer with other obligations and other interests, chances are mine has been a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

I don’t think anyone out here takes the ocean experience for granted. But in less than 24 hours I will be saying goodbye to this life in a more permanent way than others will. Some things, for sure, I’m happy to leave. I won’t miss that first week of seasickness. Or the rough-weather days when the decks are secured and I’ve played one too many games of foosball.

But those are trivial. They can’t compare to talking with my friend Ian at 2 a.m. under a sky so starry it seemed like there was more white in the sky than dark. Or standing on the bow with salt spray coming off 14-foot swells. Or watching a perfect orange ball of a sun fall past the western horizon at the end of the day, along with 25 others who had dropped their work to share the experience. Or dropping 1400 meters beneath the ocean surface in a submarine (more on that in tomorrow’s update).

The funny thing is, most of these experiences are ones we all know; we’ve all seen sunsets and spoken with friends under starry skies. Out here, though, common experiences become uncommon. The different-ness of sea life makes even everyday events feel different.

I won’t be back out to sea for a very long time, if ever. That’s a big part of what has made it so special.



















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