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"Corporate needs you to find the difference between this picture and this picture...they're the same picture." 

- The Office, and countless memes since

11 years in between. Same exuberant Kirstin. 

In 2015, I had a life-changing experience: I dove in Alvin. Being underwater and personally visiting the deep ocean was the most profound thing I had ever experienced. I vowed to do everything in my power to get back into the sub, and to get others the chance to dive. 

It took me 11 years. 

Yesterday, I was offered the opportunity to dive in Alvin to visit the Quest shipwreck in the Labrador Sea. I was immensely grateful to once again enter the deep sea. Friends, I have the coolest job on this ocean planet. 

We descended at a site some 200 m away from the wreck itself. The archaeologists on board have been calling the site "the plunge pit," because they suspect it contains debris that fell off of Quest when she sank. There were some bright spots at the site on the side-scan sonar survey from 2024, when the wreck was found, so my buddy and I went to check it out. 

We didn't find any artifacts at the plunge pit. Instead, what we found were cod. So. Many. Atlantic. Cod. The fish were so abundant around the sub that at times, they obscured our view of the seafloor. Cod are attracted to artificial lights from oceanographic sampling equipment, so they swarmed the sub in incredible numbers. Some individuals scooped mouthfuls of sediment from the seafloor, further stirring up the sediment. We had to rely on Alvin's sonar to check for wreck-related targets because we could only see a few meters away from the sub. In the end, we only found two lines on the seafloor that were probably fishing trawl marks. The plunge pit was empty. 

Having done our due diligence for plunge pit archaeology, we headed over to the wreck itself. The visibility was a challenge throughout our whole dive, so we had to rely on Alvin's instruments for navigation. My dive buddy had dove the site just a few days prior and mentioned that the visibility was much degraded compared to his previous experience. The day before our dive, Alvin operations had to be canceled because of high winds. I wondered if wind-driven waves had mixed the water column, stirred up sediment, and caused our low-visibility conditions. 

By the time I could see the wreck, we were almost on top of it. The vertical wall of Quest's port hull emerged from the shadowy sea ahead of Alvin. I may not have noticed the wreck, if it hadn't been for the soft corals. Pale orange and pink colonies formed bright spots in the viewport in front of me. As the sub approached, our external lights bathed the hull. The soft corals reflected our illumination in warm, pastel hues. 

My face was glued to the viewport. I had already seen Quest through the ROV camera, but being there in person felt different. First of all, I had a sense of scale - Quest was smaller than I had thought based on the ROV video. I had depth perception - the redfish were right up against the wreck, while the cod swam randomly through the water all around. And I had a three-dimensional sense of place - the wreck stretched tens of meters in front of me. 

Our pilot wanted to begin by circling the wreck to get a sense of its structure and identify any hazards. We knew there were at least three fishing nets entangled on the wreck, so he wanted to make sure he knew their exact positions before we attempted any more precise maneuvers. We started by flying down the port side, then circling around the stern. As we traveled aft, I could notice a gradient in the biological community. Soft corals that covered the bow gave way to pink anemones amidships. Further aft, the fishing net on the stern had almost no colonization at all. 

I pressed my face to the viewport. Something seemed off. I could see pink anemones through the fishing net. 

Wait a minute, I thought. There were anemones living underneath the fishing net. They must be attached to the wreck, and the net was just draped over top. I had never seen that before. On most shipwrecks, the areas with entangled nets are completely devoid of life. On closer inspection, I noticed that the net was frayed at the bottom. The bottom edge of the net wafted in the current. There must be enough water flow to sustain the anemones underneath the net. 

Having a 3D view of Quest allowed me to notice that surprising pattern - anemones living under a fishing net. As we completed our circuit around the vessel, I paid attention to other structures and patterns I may not have noticed in two dimensions on the ROV video. 

All too quickly, our time on the bottom was up. The pilot radioed to Atlantis with a status update and informed me that we would back away from the wreck before ascending. I wasn't quite ready. "Can we just fly along the port side one more time, up to the bow?" I asked. The maneuver would take 5 minutes or less, just enough time for me to feel content. The pilot responded positively, and I leaned toward the viewport for my last view of Quest. 

The experience of being underwater for me is profound. I feel a deep connection to the animals around me, as I experience their habitats in first-person. It is an immense privilege to dive into the deep ocean. Sustaining the Alvin program requires long-term efforts by engineers, program officers, and ship's crew. I am grateful to each one, and I hope we can dive again soon.