Chief.

"Create like a god
Command like a king
Work like a slave"
- Constantin Brancusi

My office is quiet. So quiet, in fact, that I notice for the first time the faint whirring of a fan in the ceiling. I am seated in the middle of the small green couch I inherited from the last scientist to occupy this office, and it occurs to me that this is the first time I've sat on a real couch in almost two months. Around me is an absolute chaos of equipment - gear from the ship, boxes from my last cruise, new purchases that were delivered while I was away, and miscellaneous leftovers from the renovation that took place in my absence. It's going to take me a long time to organize, but that is next week's problem.

I've just said goodbye to my collaborators and the crew from R/V Connecticut after a week at sea. We were broadcasting stories about our research to classrooms, educational venues, and the public via telepresence from the wreck of steamship Portland in Stellwagen Bank National Marine Sanctuary. The cruise was very different for me because of the strong media focus, and plus, it was my first time as chief scientist. It was definitely a learning experience. 

In case you don't know, the chief scientist is responsible for planning all activities on board, leading the science party, and most importantly, communicating with the captain. It’s a lot of work and a lot of responsibility - multi-tasking to the extreme. Twenty times a day, I was running up the stairs to the bridge to talk to the officer on watch. I called the shots during deck operations when we deployed gear at night. I sat up with the multibeam technician in the wee hours of the morning. I communicated to the crew when we were broadcasting and made sure the ship was facing the right way for the satellite to work. For the first several days, I barely slept. 

The hardest part of my job as chief scientist came about 36 hours on station, when I woke up to find the Connecticut in 5 ft seas. There was no chance of deploying the ROV in those conditions, and the forecast showed it getting worse. I made the call to retreat. 

We steamed west, toward Gloucester, MA, and completed several broadcasts from there. The following day, we broadcast from Buzzards Bay, near Woods Hole. Thankfully, most of the show content was independent of ROV operations, so we were able to complete the sessions as planned. Each of the Investigators explained their research on the wreck of steamship Portland, and we had live Q&A with our audience. Over the course of the week, we held 9 direct connections, with multiple classrooms participating in each interaction, and 4 broadcasts for the general public.

By the end of the cruise, I actually felt a strong sense of accomplishment. The weather may not have been our friend, but frankly, that's autumn in the Atlantic. We still accomplished all of our education and outreach goals for the expedition and even collected 2 nights' worth of multibeam sonar data that will help us locate new shipwrecks in SBNMS. I'm calling that a win. 

For me personally, the cruise was valuable as an opportunity to grow. I'm learning how to be a leader - to create like a god, command like a king, and work like a slave. It was also extremely fulfilling for me to be able to share my research with our audiences. The single best moment in each broadcast was when the camera turned on our viewers and we got to see them smiling and engaged. I’m proud of the job we’ve done.

The science party and ship's crew on R/V Connecticut