We’re in that state that evokes the (possibly apocryphal) assertion from Anacharsis that “There are three kinds of people – those dead, those alive, and those at sea.”

The ship has been traversing a sort of midpoint in the Gulf of Alaska, near dead center of the approximate half circle enclosed by the curve of the Alaskan coast. Call it about 400 nautical miles – just under two days of steaming at full speed – in any direction to land. And yet this doesn’t feel like the Gulf I remember the last time I was up here on this ship. There’s rough water ahead, but we’ve had remarkably flat sea so far. The ship has sort of lulled us as the miles rolled by behind. And we, in this self-contained maritime bardo, seem to forget at times that we really are at sea. 

Our days are mostly spent below deck in the main lab, swapping subject matter lectures and demos for an hour or so at a time, then retreating into our laptops to keep a lid on whatever commitments we’ve made back at home. When we remember, some of us make our way up to the bridge to gaze out at the gray and blue. It’s always suddenly, unexpectedly, time for lunch or dinner.

I’ve written before about the food on Sikuliaq – it’s remarkable. Galley is given no fixed budget for provisioning, and Alanna and Robin ply us with daily fare that would make a resort chef weep with envy. Lobster ravioli, seared ahi, blackberry cobbler (from berries Robin foraged while we were in port) – every day is a surprise and a delight.

Once breakfast/lunch/dinner are over, it’s back to the lab – a half hour or so of catching up on email, coding a demo for the next session or wandering out to the back deck for a breath of air – holy cow, we’re in the middle of the Gulf of Alaska, and are those whale blows out there to starboard?!?

There are also little field trips – the the winch room, buried deep below deck, and up to the flying bridge, where the normally-off limits antennae and instruments are mounted.

And then? Then it’s back to the lab, to we dive back into our work again.