Treacherous Mountains in the South Atlantic Ocean: Day 29

Blog 13-- Tuesday, December 7, 2010

So imagine that you wake up in the morning and your house is on such a slant that you have to walk on the moldings to get to the bathroom  That is exactly what I had to do this AM.  Gravity pulls at you like a giant serpent wanting to throw you down.  You fight with every knuckle, every limb, and all your core strength to move inches at a time.  Occasionally, it will mix it up and heave you a foot in the air then gravity finds you.  You put down your best Spiderman landing and try to stick.

Anna flying!  

No one is allowed on deck without a life vest and strapping in.  On my 2am-6am watch I was eating oatmeal when a wave decided I had enough.  It washed me 6 feet across the cockpit and stole my oatmeal. The Sea State is "roughly" a six with gale force winds in the 30s.  We're making great time and could be in Cape Town on the 8th.  As I sit here at the saloon table typing, shards of sunlight flicker through the gallery windows as waves crash over the bow.  Chelsea came down from the deck since she is on her. She checked on her -20˚ freezer that doesn't like working on a slant.  She stood dripping, pounded by the waves.

We are less than 300 nautical miles from Cape Town and will have to endure these treacherous mountains until the end.  Cape Town is near the horn of South Africa where two ocean currents wrestle it out for control.

I am reading "Adrift," by Steven Callahan.  It's a true story of him surviving 76 days at sea in his emergency raft he named "Ducky."  It happened in 1983.  I'll leave you with this passage from the book and why what we are doing out here matters.

"We [Steven and his raft] drift through a line of weed piled up like autumn leaves.  The Sargasso is laced with trash.  For sixty days the ocean has been pristine, a world that might never have been touched by man.  Ships and a single chuck of Styrofoam have been the only evidence of man still inhabits the earth.  Suddenly my surroundings are full of their excrement-- our excrement... The highway of trash stretches from South to North as far as I can see.  For hours Ducky wades through one lane of rubbish after another.  The highway is miles wide."


This is from his 61st day lost at sea.  He must have found the high-pressure system also known as the accumulation zone where we habitually find plastic pollution.

More later.

Bonnie Over the Ocean

Plankton and Micro-plastics in the South Atlantic: Day 26

Blog 12-- Saturday, December 4, 2010

Stiv says he's been on this boat so long he's starting to have a crush on the lady pictured on the Fire Blanket box in the kitchen.  It's a drawing that shows how to put an extinguishing blanket over a stove fire.  Rough.  Though we all got excited when we saw the whales surface 30 yards out, starboard side, last evening.  They were running with us for about five minutes then gone like phantom submarines.  We had seen whale spouts off in the far distance days ago, but that was all we could see.  This was the first clear sighting and it may have something to do with the amount of plankton we are pulling up in our trawls.  Many whales live on a plankton rich diet-- the plankton being a draw for the whales moving in the area.  Not surprising the plankton we pull up in our trawls also contains plastic.  We will separate the plastic from the plankton, but there is no way for the whales to filter out the micro-plastics that accompany the plankton.

So far we have traveled over 4,026 miles.  By the time we arrive in Cape Town, we will have traveled twice the diameter of the moon (2,159.6 miles).  We're hoping to land in three days.  Clive has a flight back to the UK on the 9th and is looking forward to getting home to his young family.  But with fuel running low and random winds, "We'll get there when we get there."  Right now we're welcoming a tailwind pushing us forward at 8 knots while we heel portside after weeks of heeling starboard side.  Nice to give the other muscles a chance to perpetually flex, though it is tearing my right side that I injured a week ago.  Hopefully the movement will help assuage the lumpy mass out.

In all of our travels, we were only in the high-pressure system for three days.  Remarkable the amount of trash we were seeing there and now that we are out of the high, plastic items are more widely spread out.  That doesn't mean that we don't continue to find and pluck plastic debris from the sea.  As far as my research goes, the record continues after three open-ocean gyres voyages-- every sample contains fragments of plastic.  We will continue to trawl every 60 nautical miles until we get to Cape Town.

The jumping continues as well.  Jennifer has jumped 5000 times while I mend and I have been able to do 3,400.  My count is not great considering how much time I've had to do them.  Bummer that the days the boat has been a level plane was when I was crippled the worst.  I'll get them done evein if I'm jumping at the airport during mega-layovers on my way home-- 21,350 to go-- no problem.  Thanks to all of you who have sponsored my trip.  I'll have plenty of photos and videos to share once I get to port.

More later.

Bonnie

Gyre-Normous Boa in the South Atlantic: Day 24

Blog 11-- Thursday, December 2, 2010

There are three teams that do around the clock watches on a rotating basis.  The day watches make sure we don't run into another vessel or object; clean the "loos" (bathrooms), the kitchen walls and floors, pump out the gray water tank and cook.  At night, we fight to stay awake while watching for debris and ships coming our way.  Yesterday morning, it was a good thing what we found appeared during the day.  We may not have seen it at night and according to our first mate, it could have done serious damage to Sea Dragon.

Anna was the first to spot it.  As she shouted that there was a large object ahead, everyone ran for the deck-- everyone except Mary and me.  We were just finishing up one more episode of "LOST." (A distinct sign of addiction.)  It wasn't long before Anna came down shaking us from our Mac-trance, "Bonnie, your'e gonna want to see this."  When I peered over the port-side of the ship, I felt a little sick at the thought of ignoring her call.  I had seen plenty of large ropes in gyres, but this one was the mac-daddy.  It had to be at least 30 feet long by 10 inches around and completely entombed with barnacles.  A gyre-normous boa constrictor looking rope.  It had a huge knot for a head measuring 3-4 feet wide with a tail that dipped into the water column several feet down.  We pulled it out of the water better than halfway, but the mast began to complain from the shear weight of it.  We stopped.  Without a moments notice, Anna leaped onto it and it instantly dwarfed her size.  Serving as scale, we took pictures of her on the rope then sadly released it back into the abyss too heavy to pull on board.  We were only 20 feet away from it when it became nearly invisible to our naked eyes.  This navigational hazard is one example of how plastic pollution can have a direct negative impact on human safety.  Sadly, the potential still exists with our find.

(Check back...Photo coming soon!!!!) :)

Every watch it is our responsibility to log the coordinates Latitude and Longitude, time, barometer reading, true wind, distance traveled thus far, and our position in relation to direction of the wind.  Today it was especially special.  Why? Because we crossed the Prime Meridian.  Our longitude read 0.000.0 like the green flash of a perfect sunset.  Many of us pack around the chart table with the anticipation like in Times Square New Year's Eve.  It was 12:05pm.  We might have celebrated with champagne, but had done that the night before drinking a shot of champagne to celebrate Mary Osborne's birthday.  I yelled out a special birthday wish to my partner in plastic pollution crime-- Bill Cooper-- in honor of his birthday too.

Though my contusion in my back hasn't moved much, I can no longer hold off on my jumps.  Thank you Jennifer O'Keefe for subbing for me.  She put in nearly a thousand the last time she checked in.  I was able to do 700 yesterday and 200 today with slight improvisation.  But there is a rope involved and I am indeed jumping.

More later.

Bonnie Over the Ocean

Getting "Lost" in the South Atlantic: Day 22

Blog 10-- Tuesday, November 30, 2010

We reached the center of the South Atlantic high yesterday and we are not here in vain.  Silently, I had hoped it wouldn't be a repeat of what I witnessed in the North Pacific Garbage Patch.  Like cancer that starts in one part of the body and spreads to another, so does plastic in our oceans.


It started with a blue hardhat that we spied moments into our 6am watch.  Soon, everyone was on deck busy plucking plastic.  Everyone but me.  My back continues to keep me up all night and flexibility is limited, so I journal entry all the stuff we are seeing and collecting.  Between the perfectly calm seas, feathery clouds to minimize glare, we were all yelling out sightings of plastic.  I wrote them down.  Most of the debris doesn't present itself until we are right on top of it.  Much of it swivels and swirls inches below the surface. Only bottles and buoys set up higher in the water-- things that contain air.  Just to name a few of the items that we plucked:  Plastic sheeting with mega bite marks in them, bottles, buoys, very fragile and degraded laundry baskets, large fragments bigger than my hand, crates, and the hardhat that had smaller items twisted in it like a corner of a candy-like wrapper!!

I also did several "Timed Observations" yesterday with bionic-eyes Rich, who confessed having something like 20-15 vision.  In three hours and from just one portion of the ship (because you cannot get an aerial view), we counted 63 items larger than 3 inches and as big as 3 feet.  Unlike the fragments we find in our trawls these fragments were huge.

We stopped the boat long enough for an underwater photo shoot.  My GoPro went in with Stiv as he videoed Anna in her Roxy sponsored wet suit.  We filmed the debris we had just collected from where we found it but with the water hovering around 60 degrees, they got out and we went on our way.

Now onto our evening activities...

I haven't mentioned it, but there has been an addiction formed on this journey instigated by the pro-surfers and it isn't just the chocolate bars that Anna rations out nearly every night after dinner.  It's a fitting title to what we are doing and where we are.  Many people get lost at sea, much of our plastic gets lost at sea, and many of us aboard Sea Dragon are in  a "LOST" marathon.

For years, my son has been trying to get me to watch the weekly series "LOST."  I have not watched a TV show consistently since I left Cortland, NY.  Back then the addiction was "Friends."  My good friend, Pam Sullivan, and I would meet at a litter bar appropriately named Friends.  So we would meet to watch "Friends" at Friends with friends.  Now Mary Maxwell and I usually meet at the "saloon table" on our night shifts to watch hours of "LOST."  Last night when it was our turn to be out on deck, we had to tear ourselves away from the 2nd to the last episode in the first season.  We watched Shannon put a gun up to Locke, pull the trigger and then.... we had to hit the stop button, climb into our foul weather gear, complicated lifejackets, clip-in lines and then head up the stairs into a dome of darkness.  The ocean gently lapped against our boat reminding me of Pleasant Lake in Syracuse, NY.  Slowly our rods and cones went to work poking holes in the blackness and the sky began to lighten taking our minds off of "LOST."  Well, for an hour anyway.


"Be right back," I assured Mary.  I popped through the companion-way within seconds.  Mary's whites eclipsed the stars.  And there we were happy as clams, hunched together in the glow of my Mac screen under the star lit canopy lost in "LOST."

More later,

Bonnie Over the Sea

Also, be sure to check into 5 gyres blog.  Stiv Wilson wrote an amazing blog post:  Convenience Can Break the Entire Ocean  What Bonnie and I (Danielle) did going plastic-free with our food choices for one week (and beyond for me and my family) is one way that we can break this cycle.  To learn about living with less plastic, visit Fake Plastic Fish's Plastic-Free Living Guide

South Atlantic: Day 9

Blog 4: Wednesday, November 17, 2010

The wind continues to howl with headwind gusts up to 27 knots making it difficult to sail in the direction we need to go.  So we tack getting nowhere fast.

Everyone knows when we "come-about" everything moans in unison with movement, including a few stomachs.  Clanging like a really bad marching band as our world shifts to a new found position.  We are healing (leaning) starboard side and I'm almost standing while sitting using my feet to brace myself.  Walking is likened to the uneven room in Ripley's Believe It or Not Fun House.  To walk toward the port side of the ship is like climbing Mount Everest-- step and reach for something to grab onto-- step and reach.  It's a total body workout.

My jumping rope challenge is exactly that!!  I had to improvise to a swinging rope that I jump over while holding on for dear life.  As Anna Cummins assured me, "Your sponsors will understand.  They wouldn't want you to risk your life."  There are three locations large enough for me to jump without interruption.  One is at the bow (bad idea!!) in front of the steering column at the stern and if we aren't healing, I can jump in a 2 foot space on the starboard (right) side.  It's a challenge no doubt, but one I gladly take up in appreciation for the financial support that I have been given by those who support this cause.  Better than a third of my goal has been brought in.

Regardless of the rough seas, we have done 12 trawls.  Every trawl has collected plastic.  (Unfortunately, I don't have any photos to share with you... in the mean time please visit www.5gyres.com).  Yesterday, we also caught a mahi-mahi fashioning a bright blue, yellow and green dorsal fin with cobalt blue spots on its 29" metallic body.

We continue to eat well.  Last night it was sushi with a shot glass of wine.  We laughed as our "chef" donned a Rising Sun homemade bandana.  Priceless.

We finished the night with me giving a talk about my Plastic Ocean Project and how it has transformed me from a wallflower to an advocate for a better planet.

More tomorrow.

South Atlantic: Day 1 Noon Position

Day 1 Noon Position

I’m having a cheerio time being bounced around the ship sleeping in a cave.  Its fun - oddly enough.  My berth is under a double sized though it isn’t as big, its bigger than most.  I have to climb down into it.   It’s a completely different ride than Algalita’s 50’ catamaran I was on last year in the North Pacific.  It’s quieter, but heels a lot more and has much less open space for jumping.  I’ve completed 2700 jumps so far of the 30,050.  The challenge continues if anyone wants to participate www.theplasticocean.org

The sea is too rough for us to sample the first few days, with winds between 18-22 knots and a Sea State around 6. I’m the oldest one on the crew – comforting isn’t it?  But, our young Captain Clive Cosby is not only super human, trained in racing sail ships, and in fact sailed around the world with this very vessel, he is brilliantly funny.   Did I mention the boat I am on has been in the Challenge Race?

Half the crew has fallen ill to the steady rock and “normal” boat smells.  (I won’t go into that)  We’ve traveled 250 nm (nautical miles which are slightly longer miles) since our departure on Sunday at 6pm.  We got a late start waiting for the tide to fill the bay and the fuel to fill our tanks.  It took over an hour to pump around 1800 liters - $3600 worth.

The last night I stayed on the ship solo, readying my cave. Earlier in the day I took one for the team trying to catch the dock before our dingy bounced off it.  I lunged for the dock catching it with my fingertips, pulling the dingy of seven people with white knuckled proved to be unsuccessful and I went face first into the drink. So I decided to stay back, clean and use the bread maker on board.  The captain assured me it was easy.  The list of seven ingredients taped to the inside of the baking supply cabinet door, pen scratched, protected by cellophane.  “You can’t screw it up,” he said in his British italicized words.  “It mixes and bakes itself. Wake up in five hours and it’s done!”

After finally finding everything I needed that wasn’t in baking closet, I shut the lid, push select – 5 hours, “start” then went to bed with a warm and fuzzy thought that we would all wake up to warm “homemade” bread.

I woke up to the early morning sunrise with the captain gently calling my name crouched beside my berth.  “Bunny, look . . . our furst loaf of bread.  It’s going to be our boat mascot,” said chocking off a laugh.  I opened my eyes to a beautifully bronzed loaf of bread about 3 inches tall.   I sat up in shocked! But his giggle viraled mine.  I entered the galley and took a few wise cracks while Anna Cummins found the beauty in it and dared to take a piece.

It wouldn’t be until that night when Captain Clive absolved me when he pulled out his freshly created loaf only to find it was the same size.  Hah!

The moral to the story?  Don’t try to use beer yeast to raise bread, if the label wasn’t written in Portuguese, we might have figured it out.

More later.

Bon


Also, be sure to visit:


5 Gyres blog
Sea Dragon Ships blog


(By the way, "Hi!  I'm Danielle!  I'll be posting everything that Bonnie sends me from the South Atlantic to The Plastic Ocean Project blog.  Should you have any questions or curiosities about the voyage, please comment and I'll be sure to ask Bonnie for you!!)