Friday, October 12
Just before we left for Houston from home, the Argos received a message that we might have to stay on land because the seas were rough. After waiting months for our mission, it was hard to accept that possible disappointment. We spent the first morning killing a little time at the Johnson Space Center, waiting for word from the captain. What a great feeling to be at the exhibit of the Apollo moon landing when we found out our own mission would be a "go." From there it was straight to the dive shop to get equipped with snorkels, masks, fins, and wetsuits, then we were off to our boat, the MV Spree

The divemaster gave us instruction on where to find bunks, the heads, the galley, and most important -- how to use the barf bag! The bunks were tiny, but cozy.

For eight hours, the sea rocked us to sleep while we motored all night out to High Island natural gas platform just inside the Flower Garden Banks National Marine Sanctuary, arriving there at dawn.

Saturday, October 13
The sea around us is dotted with oil and natural gas platforms, which have the potential to harm the fragile coral reef we float above. Two leaders of that industry graciously flew in by helicopter and were delivered to our ship by means of a basket swung by a crane very, very high above the water! Tracy and Steve, of W & T Offshore, shared with us their concerns for the protection of this environment as well many details about how the platforms work. People with diverse interests coming together definitely helps build understanding. We learned that the platforms are actually great habitats for sea life because they provide a hard substrate for coral to grow on close to the surface of the sea, where there is light.

From there it was on to the East Banks, where we finally were able to get into the water. I had been scared to jump in, being new to most of the equipment and the height of the waves. There were many firsts. I had never before slept on a boat underway at sea, worn a wetsuit, snorkeled in the deep sea off the back of a boat or in rough water, or swum face to face with a barracuda -- not the stuff of greatness, but I was certainly pushing my own personal limits. I was unsure about how to get back on board, and, yes, whether there would be sharks. Once I was swimming, though, I didn't want to leave this sapphire world where barracuda stared me down and schools of jacks, wrasses, and chubs appeared unexpectedly. When snorkeling, the sea bottom here seemed so much closer than it really is. It looked no more than 15 feet away, but in reality was closer to 70 feet deep.

The water was so clear compared to the estuary in southern Connecticut where I live. The sea there is a murky green, actually teeming with life from all the algae and plankton that grow in it, but here in the Gulf, I was struck by the intense blue and by the clarity of the water. Tiny white plankton were sparsely sprinkled like stars in a bright blue sky.

Chirag, Brittany, and Conrad were fantastic. Their enthusiasm was over the top, and they leaped in, literally and figuratively, with total enthusiasm, looking and working like marine scientists. For days, we worked with several staff members of the sanctuary, many of whom are scuba divers as well as researchers. Their love of their jobs was very apparent. Even in the seven-foot waves we encountered, they still dove to replace monitoring equipment on the sea bottom. Those devices track the movement of manta rays. When the boat's mooring line broke, they had to return quickly to the boat. With 50 to 60 pounds of equipment on their backs, it was a challenge getting back onboard, but their exuberant reaction showed not only their courage, but also their dedication to science. To be able to spend several days at sea, doing research with such great people, was the best of all.

We were profoundly fortunate to be able to work with Dr. Robert Ballard. He is the most inspirational person I know. His words and accomplishments have challenged me to try some things I've never done before, to take risks I didn't think I could, to accept failure as something to learn from, and to continue to share my passion for science with young people. It is a great privilege to be able to spend this handful of days at sea under his guidance in a place of such beauty and diversity.

Sunday, October 14
At one point, while we were in the midst of working on our journals and interviewing some of our onboard scientists, Dr. Ballard called out, "Bottlenose dolphin on the stern!" I raced to the deck, as did everyone, and hung over the rails watching these sleek, wild, intelligent mammals streak alongside the ship. They played and jumped in its wake, not more than ten feet away. I watched the sea intently for a much longer time, hoping for their return, but they disappeared as mysteriously as they arrived.

We spent the final night onboard the ship at dock. Not wanting to miss the last opportunity to sleep in the open on the top deck, I left the comfort of my bunk and headed for the view of the stars, falling asleep to long, low train whistles and the soft sounds that ships make in harbors. It was a chilly night, which woke me a few times, but so very peaceful. I got up before dawn, my favorite time of day at sea, grateful for the beauty and mystery of this wonderful world.

I think that in order to want to save the special places of the Earth, it is necessary first to love them, which is one of the many reasons I am so grateful we are here. I wish all young people could have the opportunity to learn to love the Earth in this way: to be out in the wild, in beautiful and interesting places, being creative, experimenting, and testing their limits.