Closed Circuit: Slums and Villas

The Laurence M. Gould was built in Louisiana around 1995.  Somewhere during the design and manufacturing stages, mistakes were made and when the ship was put into the water, she tilted a whole 17° from vertical!  They solved the problem by fashioning “wings” for the sides filled with varying amounts of cement.  Her crew and passengers love her no less for the flaw, for she is quite a handsome ship - painted dark orange and reaching at least 30 feet into the air.  As we pushed away from the dock and our sister ship, the Nathaniel V. Palmer, I felt an unexpected surge of excitement.  Of course, I knew everyone would be out on the decks and lining the dock to witness the departure, but I could not have anticipated the exhilaration and sense of adventure that would follow.  Just as the ship was about ten feet away from the dock, I suddenly felt it: Whoa, we’re going to Antarctica….  Goodbye, Chile, hello ocean. 
    The Gould has five main floors and carries almost fifty people, along with tons of cargo and millions in science equipment.  The bridge offers visitors a beautiful view of the bow and the sea ahead and contains mysterious navigational charts and instruments along with nature field guides and binoculars.  The next floor down houses many of the passengers and crew.  Climbing down another flight of stairs gets you to the lounge area (computers, books, wall of VHS), the chief scientist’s luxurious quarters (my boss), and the gym.  (As a side note, using a treadmill on a rockin’ and rollin’ ship presents new and humorous challenges I had not faced until now).  Below this floor, one finds the group labs and the galley (yum!).  Scientists are well-known for always having a coffee cup in hand, but on the Gould, the other hand is busy too.  Homemade chocolate chip cookies are abundant on the ship and everybody knows when the cooks refill the bin.  Returning to our tour, the lowest and most important floor is the hold, which houses gear, fuel, and my cozy sleeping container, referred to by my boss as the “slums.”  I live in the bauls of the ship with four other women and a few other men in the neighboring container.  From our unique position in the tummy of the ship, we can hear everything from the boom to the engine kicking into higher gears.  Aside from being one with the ship, we don’t sway as much down below, which will become important once we reach Drake’s Passage – the open ocean that separates South America from Antarctica.
    Throughout the ship, small television units can be found in various corners, on lab benches, or in the galley.  These TVs are closed circuit and provide an interesting summary of the onboard activities at any given time.  From the lab, you can get a summary of the navigational stats, information and progress updates for the experiments that are taking place, direct feed from the main deck where they lower science gear into the water, and several other feeds from cameras in key locations on the ship.  The idea of being able to know exactly what is happening everywhere on the ship was so interesting to me but is best summarized by my boss’s response to my curiosity, “It’s the ship, it’s our world.”  So many people live and work on this ship for months at a time and it truly becomes their home.  I like it here, but I am also very glad to be getting off at Palmer Station so that I can more freely explore.