Be sure to check out the photos on FLICKR:

 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/40054892@N06/

 

 

Sea Hear

 

Living under the ocean, my eyes keep turning to the windows. The round ports glow with translucent pastel blue fog, a parade of fish flying endlessly through. I can’t help thinking I’m somehow on the wrong side of an aquarium.

 

Even more different, though, is what we hear. A loud constant crashing of sounds with the volume going up and down, as if someone kept turning the control knob. That’s because it’s stormy overhead, and as the waves pass over the pressure goes up and down and our ears nearly pop. Every time I swallow it gets louder and then quieter.

 

The Aquarius habitat regularly burps, a low deep gurgling rumble when the new fresh air pushes the old out under the edges of our Wet Porch. We send a huge roaring white bubble to the surface. Inside, the fans make a constant whirring hum, blowing clean oxygen into every corner and filtering the carbon dioxide.

 

There are 6 radios and phones, all ringing and echoing in metallic, distant voices. Andrew’s spacewalking voice comes tinnily through a small speaker. The technical suit-up conversation in the Wet Porch snaps with equipment clanking and feedback, as Nate gets Tom’s helmet safely attached.

 

And somehow it’s like Darth Vader is everywhere, his deep, machine breath going forever in and out. It’s actually from the spacewalkers, as their voices are mixed with every inhale and exhale, a simple reminder of how hard they are working.

 

The smallest sound is from the fish themselves, as they nibble and bite at the green-brown growth on the outside. Their beaks must be strong, since they make such a harsh and purposeful scratching noise. The bits they spit out fall past the window, a shower of lumpy wet dust.

 

My ears are under assault, but my eyes are drawn to the sea.

   

Chris (Cmdr. Chris Hadfield)

Mission Day 2
Life and Depth

Steve (Chappell) and I were outside on a spacewalk when the underwater weather changed, like a cold front blowing through. The visibility and temperature instantly dropped and I had to bring my arms in close to stay warm. The chilly water even looked different, like a wavering fluid prism.

I redoubled my concentration on my assigned tasks, but after a while I really started to notice where I was. A camouflaged little Goby fish got spooked by a bottom feeder, and a dozen bigger fish gave chase as he got away. A large Ray felt the cold water coming and flew past, like a bird on the wind. A Crab with an off-center knobby shell hobbled clumsily by, bound for some personal destination.

We are definitely aliens in this world, six recently-landed outsiders who don’t belong. Yet a local Goliath Grouper came into our wet porch and presented himself for attention, like a pet cow. His whole 200 lb body wriggled with pleasure.

As I type this I can hear crunching sounds as a parrot fish bites off the growth on the other side of Aquarius’s metal hull.

We got lots of excellent research done today on spacesuit design and human-machine interface, but it was the interaction with life that I liked the most.

– Chris

For additional photos of the crew, visit our Flickr site.

Took two glances at the sky as we bobbed behind the dive boat before splashing down. Last view of clouds and blue sky for two weeks.Then the team swam down and along the dive boat, until the Aquarius habitat loomed below us.

One’s first entry into the habitat is met with echoes and deep booming as you stand up out of the water in the metal entry lock. You’re standing in our entrance to the ocean, in a still pool that rises and falls with the surge at the ocean floor, rhythmically sucking the habitat air and burping it outside, or squeezing the air like a piston until your ears pop. The entry lock is a metal box adjoined to the living quarters – you climb a metal staircase to meet our hab techs Nate and James, who have spent most of the day preparing for our arrival.

We rinsed and dried off in a tiny shower at the top of the staircase, found our personal belongings in the small bunkroom, and after a quick lunch of nuts, canned meat, and tortillas, prepared for our first EVAs.

One is constantly distracted and amazed by the new sights and sounds. The view out the windows show a limitless blue, with passing fish always in your periphery. My head was on a swivel for the first few hours, unused to the movement and light in the windows.

You also hear clicking and snapping, like the popping of bubble-wrap, all around you. That’s shrimp and parrot fish feeding off the outside of the habitat.

After two “EVAs”, we are now well-fed and getting ready for the next day’s activities. More on the EVAs tomorrow.