June 20, 2009

6-20-09

After several days of spotty sleep I was determined to make it through a full shift of work without nodding off. In theory, a continuous period of being awake would result in a continuous period of being asleep. Several cups of tea with breakfast would hopefully get me started on the right track. I went out on deck because some cool wind usually helped me wake up and feel a little less queasy. I was blessed to witness another spectacular sunset. The light from the sun shined right up to the edge of the horizon as if it was lighting up the edge of the world. As the sun dipped further behind the clouds a single shaft of light aimed strait up like it was illuminating a path towards heaven. To say the least, all of this radiant majesty was a little overwhelming. I had been at sea for less than a week and I felt like I had experienced enough inward journeys to last my whole 20s.

I thought this might be an interesting krill tow, since we were at an intermediate depth of 460 meters, in between the Bering Sea's average continental shelf depth (70 meters) and depth of the basin (1000s of meters). If my previous encounters with bioluminescent copepods were like grabbing a bag of stars, this tow was more like lassoing the Milky Way. Anywhere you touched the bongo nets, they would light up with small blue flashes. Despite repeated efforts to capture the copepod light with my camera, I was unable to get a good shot. In the best picture you can faintly make out one luminescing individual just above the right corner of my blurry blue glove (blurred because of the movement trying to shake the net to trigger a response from the copepods).

There was also plenty of krill to collect, so we carried the cooler into the light to scoop out the googly eyed crustaceans. There was a small fish that we also collected facing straight down with its face pressed against the bottom of the cooler, continuing to try and swim deeper, despite making no progress. "This is a midwater fish" Tracy commented. "They never encounter boundaries during their lifecycle so they don't know how to react in containers when they are trying to reach their optimum depth."

I couldn't help but compare the fish's behavior, to my reaction of seeing "the edge of the world" at sunset. I was trying to put a boundary on the water because I couldn't see anything beyond it.

Humans establish, and as a result encounter, a lot of boundaries in day to day life. Boundaries like walls of buildings, or sides of rocks, are physical. Other boundaries like social class, or national boarders, are established by society and government. Imagine how big of a risk it must have been to attempt to sail around the world, when the only boundary that anyone had ever thought they knew for certain was that the world was flat. Breaking these types of human imposed boundaries usually results in paradigm shifts that change how we view the world and operate in our day to day lives. Having an African American president, or maybe one day a two state solution for Israel and the Palestinians (forgive me, I finished watching the movie Munich yesterday), has, and may potentially, changed the way much of the world functions?

I drone on as if I am the first person to ever consider the implications of human imposed boundaries. It is a phenomenon that society and nature will likely always be in conflict with. I recall that in my Great Uncle Jim Moore's memoir he stated something to the effect of "in order to be a true revolutionary, one needs to believe that at no point in history has anyone ever comprehended the issues and challenges that the so called revolution is trying to overcome." I'm sure Uncle Jim wrote it much more eloquently than my memory retrieved it. He was coming to terms with his own revolution during labor disputes of the 20th century.

In Jim's honor (thankfully still with us), for the first time in my life I had a specific revolution. I decided to take some sea sickness meds for the first time (graciously given to me by the Knorr's Chief Mate Dee Emrich). As someone who has swam and played in the water a reasonable amount, I thought I should try and go without a 'chemical solution.' Tracy made a convincing comment that helped get me over the edge. "There is no glory in sea sickness" she said. "It is much better to be fully functional than to think you are toughing it out." I was told the meds can make you drowsy so I have waited until before I go to sleep to take the pill. For now I'll put institutions and paradigm shifts aside, and hope I can break the boundary of consistent day to day sleep without waking up for more than four hours.

-Eli

P.S. Happy Father's Day, Dad. I realize it is on the 21st, but I am writing this the day after its post date. I remembered a passage from the section of Uncle Jim's memoir that you asked me to read to the family on a road trip down the west coast to visit potential colleges (for Mary) and graduate programs (for me). Strangely enough, I wound up on the east coast at the University of Maryland. Thanks for passing on family history to your kids.