Cardboard mountain
Back when I lived in Oregon, the other members of my church were very familiar with my travel habit. Every time I showed up for Sunday service, they'd greet me the exact same way:
"Hi, welcome back! When do you leave again?"
Every single Sunday. And I tell you what, they were right - every time I return from one trip, I'm already preparing for the next one. That is absolutely the case for me this week, because even though I just got back to Woods Hole, I am already (surprise, surprise) preparing for another trip.
This winter, I'm going to spend some time in Svalbard, that archipelago north of Norway that is my all-time favorite place on Earth. Svalbard is on the front lines of climate change, as it's been warming rapidly over the last 20 years. Sea ice is receding, ocean temperatures are rising (even in the deep sea), and most recently, warm Atlantic water has started penetrating Svalbard fjords in mid-winter. When warm Atlantic water rushes in, it melts any sea ice that's formed in the fjord and re-sets the whole system to an autumn-like state. This pattern represents a massive departure from the previous seasonal pattern and has lead to ice-free winters in fjords as far as 79 N. So I'm traveling to Svalbard with 3 collaborators this winter to collect samples and understand how the mid-winter upwelling is affecting the biological communities.
As you might imagine, shipping scientific gear to Svalbard is logistically challenging, so I had to start early. On top of that, two of the collaborators for the project are in China, and another is currently swamped with writing a proposal. So it's Kirstin Versus Packing, and as if that weren't enough, I'm having to order everything I want for the trip brand-new. I've been in my current position less than a year and haven't yet had the chance to build up the type of supply base that most research labs take for granted. I'm ordering everything from plankton nets and cameras to duct tape and forceps, and while Carl and I were in Florida, my new possessions were delivered to my lab. I returned to find my lab full of boxes large and small, and I got to sort through them one by one.
So. Much. Cardboard.
After unpacking all the boxes, I literally had a mountain of cardboard in one area of my lab. No less than 3 colleagues stopped in to comment on it, one with a light-hearted remark, "Well, I'm glad the space is finally getting used!" Ugh.
It took me a couple days, but I managed to organize my purchases into a series of plastic boxes for shipping. Pretty soon, I'll be able to hand my work off to WHOI's shipping department to send them on their way to the Arctic. My boxes will get shipped to Norway, then loaded on a boat for delivery to the research station Ny-Ă…lesund, where I will be reunited with them on arrival. Science sometimes involves complicated logistics, but in the end, I'm sure we'll have a productive research trip!
"Hi, welcome back! When do you leave again?"
Every single Sunday. And I tell you what, they were right - every time I return from one trip, I'm already preparing for the next one. That is absolutely the case for me this week, because even though I just got back to Woods Hole, I am already (surprise, surprise) preparing for another trip.
This winter, I'm going to spend some time in Svalbard, that archipelago north of Norway that is my all-time favorite place on Earth. Svalbard is on the front lines of climate change, as it's been warming rapidly over the last 20 years. Sea ice is receding, ocean temperatures are rising (even in the deep sea), and most recently, warm Atlantic water has started penetrating Svalbard fjords in mid-winter. When warm Atlantic water rushes in, it melts any sea ice that's formed in the fjord and re-sets the whole system to an autumn-like state. This pattern represents a massive departure from the previous seasonal pattern and has lead to ice-free winters in fjords as far as 79 N. So I'm traveling to Svalbard with 3 collaborators this winter to collect samples and understand how the mid-winter upwelling is affecting the biological communities.
As you might imagine, shipping scientific gear to Svalbard is logistically challenging, so I had to start early. On top of that, two of the collaborators for the project are in China, and another is currently swamped with writing a proposal. So it's Kirstin Versus Packing, and as if that weren't enough, I'm having to order everything I want for the trip brand-new. I've been in my current position less than a year and haven't yet had the chance to build up the type of supply base that most research labs take for granted. I'm ordering everything from plankton nets and cameras to duct tape and forceps, and while Carl and I were in Florida, my new possessions were delivered to my lab. I returned to find my lab full of boxes large and small, and I got to sort through them one by one.
Cardboard Mountain |
So. Much. Cardboard.
After unpacking all the boxes, I literally had a mountain of cardboard in one area of my lab. No less than 3 colleagues stopped in to comment on it, one with a light-hearted remark, "Well, I'm glad the space is finally getting used!" Ugh.
It took me a couple days, but I managed to organize my purchases into a series of plastic boxes for shipping. Pretty soon, I'll be able to hand my work off to WHOI's shipping department to send them on their way to the Arctic. My boxes will get shipped to Norway, then loaded on a boat for delivery to the research station Ny-Ă…lesund, where I will be reunited with them on arrival. Science sometimes involves complicated logistics, but in the end, I'm sure we'll have a productive research trip!
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