Researchers with the SOCCOM project scramble to save their season and plan for the next.
by Melissa T. Miller
The COVID-19 pandemic affected four SOCCOM (Southern Ocean Carbon and Climate Observations and Modeling) expeditions that were underway between December and April. The team was still able to safely deploy all of the planned autonomous floats, which add to a dataset crucial to understanding climate change.
The SOCCOM program relies on research cruises already going to the Southern Ocean in that hemisphere’s summer months. Planning can take place year-round, but the field season must be done when there is less ice, generally between October and April. The floats travel with the currents, moving up and down the water column to collect data with a suite of onboard sensors. Then they surface and transmit the data to researchers on land.
Using ships of opportunity requires extensive cooperation and coordination even under normal circumstances. That all the floats were safely deployed under the ever-changing conditions of a global pandemic is a testament to the team’s planning but also to the flexibility and dedication of everyone involved, especially the scientists and crew members in the field.
 |
| Deployment of a SOCCOM float from R/V Mirai. |
When Wuhan, China went on lockdown on January 23, 2020, SIO technician Melissa Miller had been at sea for a month and was still two weeks from arriving in Singapore. Dr. Isa Rosso, an assistant project scientist at SIO, left port in Punta Arenas, Chile just a few days later on a two-month research cruise. Both expeditions were able to fulfill their science missions, including the deployment of SOCCOM floats, but traveling home from foreign ports was a serious concern.
The final two cruises of the season were scheduled for March, when the situation in the United States was becoming serious and changing by the hour. Dr. George Matsumoto of the Monterey Bay Aquarium Research Institute (MBARI) was in Fremantle to board an Australian ship. Channing Prend and Susan Becker, an SIO graduate student and staff member, respectively, traveled to Cape Town, South Africa for a NOAA GO-SHIP cruise. Neither cruise ended up fulfilling their larger science missions, but the SOCCOM floats were deployed.
The experiences of SOCCOM’s sailing technicians vary depending on the timing, but also on the organization of the ship’s operators and the countries involved in their travel plans. In these unprecedented times, communication was crucial not only to the mission’s success but also to the physical and emotional health of the scientists.
Racing the Clock Aboard the Mirai
Melissa Miller left the U.S. in mid-December, a completely different time. She traveled care-free in Europe before heading to Mauritius, a small island in the Indian Ocean to meet the ship. A planned six-day vacation in the end port of Singapore seemed a long way off, but she was already looking forward to it.
Miller oversaw deployments of eight SOCCOM floats from the Japanese research vessel (R/V) Mirai. She had no internet access, only an email account. English-language news updates were available a few times a week and steadily became dominated with updates about a new and unknown virus in China. Then came the news that it was spreading and that countries were closing their borders.
“I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that the people around me had been talking about the virus for weeks,” says Miller. “But I had no idea since I don’t understand much Japanese and wasn’t seeking out the news. My dad mentioned it in an email and that was the first I’d heard of it.”
Once in Singapore, scientists and crew who planned to return to the ship were required to wear a mask when they were outside. This included Miller when she was on deck to deal with the offload of samples and gear. The ship and crew were continuing to the ship’s home port in Japan. The other scientists all had flights out of Singapore within a day or two.
“I kept the mask that the ship gave me and wore it as I disembarked through the cruise ship terminal,” says Miller. “I remember how weird it felt to wear one when not everyone was. It was my first experience with that conflict between paranoia and caution. Now it’s just part of every day life - what a difference a few months have made.”
In the days before her flight home, a few countries closed their borders to people coming from Singapore, which at the time had the highest infection rate outside of China. Miller worried that the United States would be next, in which case her flight home would be cancelled.
Singapore implemented a rapid response plan, cancelling events that draw a crowd and installing cameras and sensors that take everyone’s temperature before they enter an enclosed space. Without the normal crowds of travelers coming from China, Miller played tourist in a practical ghost town.
Though she stressed about new travel restrictions, none came and she flew home without incident on February 16. Miller diligently took her temperature every day for two weeks and made sure people knew she had just returned from Singapore in case they wanted to limit contact. But for the most part, she enjoyed a few weeks without worrying too much about the virus.
“Since I had to be vigilant starting in early February, I feel like I’ve been dealing with the virus a month longer than everyone else I know,” says Miller. “I bought flour and yeast and hand sanitizer before they were out of stock. I stopped shaking hands at meetings. Other than that, I had a pretty normal re-entry period. I saw friends, went to a few bars and restaurants and for that I’m extremely grateful.”
Within a few weeks, it was a different reality. Going to sea for the past ten years has given her a lot of experience in self-isolation, something everyone is learning to cope with now. Miller shared that insight in an article on Scientific American’s blog.
You can also read Miller’s blog posts from the ship, which don’t mention the coronavirus, instead chronicling the deployments of SOCCOM floats and also the culinary and cultural experience of being on a foreign ship.
 |
| The science party of R/V Mirai. SOCCOM technician Melissa Miller is in red. |
Unexpected Endings on the Palmer
Dr. Isa Rosso is also a seasoned sea-going scientist. She has been Co-Chief Scientist on previous expeditions and knows the amount of planning that goes into every moment aboard a research cruise. And that interruptions to those plans are inevitable - weather delays, engine trouble, and shifting ice all have to be accommodated. But no one was prepared for just how much changed while the ship was in the Southern Ocean between January and March.
The R/V Nathaniel B. Palmer is an icebreaker in the U.S. Antarctic Program’s fleet and has deployed SOCCOM floats on multiple occasions. This particular cruise was focused on Antarctica’s Thwaites Glacier and included programs to collect sediment cores and seawater samples as well as attach sensors to seals.
After a few weeks exploring Patagonia’s national parks, a vacation she wouldn't have been able to take if she'd planned it after the cruise instead of before, Rosso left port on the Palmer. The first six weeks of the expedition were relatively normal - if you consider rescuing a Norwegian fishing vessel and discovering a new island normal. Rosso settled in to life onboard as science operations went well and five SOCCOM floats were successfully deployed.
As the virus continued to spread, Rosso, who is Italian, heard the news about her home country going on lockdown. Only being able to email friends and family and not be there to help was extremely difficult.
With the end of the cruise in sight, the uncertainty about the ship returning to port in Punta Arenas, Chile increased. It was decided that the ten British scientists onboard would be dropped off at the U.K.’s Antarctic base, Rothera, so that their travel arrangements would be taken care of.
“That was pretty sad,” says Rosso. “After so long, you get so close to each other. You see your friends go into a Zodiac and then you see them waving and it breaks your heart. All of a sudden, the ship is silent. There’s this level of balance that has been disrupted.”
The Palmer was also diverted to evacuate people from a U.S. Antarctic station. The ship was supposed to pick personnel up later in the season, but the pandemic meant that no schedule guarantees could be made and the scientists weren't cleared to stay over winter. With only a few days notice, twelve scientists had to pack up their experiments and move onboard the ship, their Antarctic research plans cut short.
“That was one of the weirdest things that could have happened,” says Rosso. “A couple of days [after the British scientists left] you have this bunch of new people. They are a group, they have their own dynamics. And for us, it was like ‘who are these people?’”
A gorgeous stretch of scenery as the Palmer transited through the Gerlache Strait helped Rosso withstand the unexpected departure of cruise friends. A few days later, the ship arrived back in Punta Arenas, which was itself on the verge of shutting down due to the virus.
 |
| Rosso describes cruising through the Gerlache Strait as one of the most memorable experiences of her life. |
Rosso usually takes a run upon reaching port, an impossible luxury at sea. But that wasn’t an option this time. Instead, the only opportunity to leave the ship was so Chilean health officials could take everyone’s temperature.
“I was looking from the portholes and saw a few people on the pier with masks and gloves and all of a sudden it hit me. All of a sudden it was a reality,” says Rosso.
The scientists had to depart on what they were told may be the last flight out of Punta Arenas. Rosso made sandwiches and filled leftover sample vials with hand sanitizer for the group to take with them. When they arrived at the airport, the airline told Rosso that she wouldn’t be allowed into the U.S. using her visa. But the scientists had been told when leaving the ship that they wouldn’t be allowed to return. Rosso was trapped in limbo.
Fortunately, the ship’s agents were able to assure the airline that the U.S. was letting visa holders in, but Rosso still worried about it through her next two connections - unable to relax until she was through customs and immigration in Miami. She arrived home on April 1 to a city already weeks in to stay at home orders.
Adjusting to normal life after months at sea is always a challenge, and this time Rosso wasn’t able to follow her tried and true steps to acclimate.
“Usually I come back from a cruise and the first thing I do after I’m over the jet lag is go to the gym,” she says. “So even if I decide to stay home from work for a week to get adjusted, I have that routine. But not anymore - that was an extremely tough moment.”
The Palmer was recalled to the U.S., ending its season early. Thanks to the ship’s crew and technicians, the SOCCOM samples and equipment were able to ride the ship back and were transferred to SIO for storage until the analytical labs reopen to process them. Rosso, now working from home, is able to reflect positively on the experience, though it was stressful at the time.
“I think that in situations like this you really see how people are ready to help. That’s really cool, that’s really beautiful.”
To read Rosso's and other scientist’s insight from the Palmer, and see more pictures, check out the blog posts from the cruise.
 |
| Rosso (far left) and the American scientists from Palmer in the Punta Arenas airport. |
Cancellation of the Investigator
Dr. George Matsumoto was looking forward to his first expedition as a SOCCOM representative. He is an educator at MBARI and runs the popular Adopt A Float program that connects SOCCOM floats with classrooms around the world. On top of outreach projects, this time he was also in charge of deploying two floats and collecting seawater samples during a 12-day cruise. The science mission included training sessions onboard the Australian ship for students from around the country, with Matsumoto contributing lessons about SOCCOM floats and science communication.
Matsumoto left California on March 5, just before advice and restrictions began changing on a seemingly hourly basis. Joining R/V Investigator in Western Australia, he met up with the other scientists, educators, and students. While getting oriented, they were told that a few crew members were sick and had been tested for COVID-19. The ship had to remain in port until the results came back. Matsumoto, stressing about the delay, tried to keep busy.
“Facing an indefinite period at the dock, the trainers decided to take advantage of the time and continue with the training that we had planned and work with the students onboard,” says Matsumoto. “Day by day, we waited for results and did what we could to maintain our training schedule.”
It took four days to learn that the crew members all tested negative. By then, one of the scientists wasn’t feeling well and was sent off to get tested. Not able to continue delaying, the decision was made to cancel the cruise and get the ship back to its home port of Hobart, Tasmania. Though disappointed, Matsumoto was able to complete most of his planned training sessions before heading home on March 14. Though only nine days had passed, the virus and associated travel restrictions had intensified.
“The trip home was stressful as there were no PPE guidelines in place yet. I filled out a flyer about how I was feeling, but it was never collected. Once I got home, MBARI had closed which made the 14-day self-quarantine that I was going to undertake simple.”
The ship’s crew stepped up to deploy the two SOCCOM floats during the transit. Having an enthusiastic and helpful crew is always an asset. They have to accommodate changes and uncertainty and make sure everything is done safely on any normal expedition. This was an extreme case and they did an admirable job taking over when the scientists couldn’t be there.
 |
| Matsumoto (far right) and scientists aboard the Investigator. |
Sailing Home on the Brown
The GO-SHIP cruise A13.5 was overshadowed by the coronavirus from start to finish. The plan was to board the NOAA research vessel Ronald H. Brown on March 19 and spend 45 days at sea, ending in the Cape Verde islands off the northwestern coast of Africa. Despite the timing, SOCCOM representative Channing Prend was excited to be heading out on his first research cruise. Susan Becker, who has participated on many SOCCOM cruises, was also onboard.
 |
| Prend prepares to deploy a SOCCOM float from the Brown. |
The plans changed every day, and eventually NOAA recalled the ship to the port of Norfolk, Virginia. At first, the scientists were told they could still do an adjusted schedule, getting some of the intended projects done. A day later, that changed and they were directed to head straight to the U.S. But first, the ship had to stay within a four day’s radius of Cape Town for a week in case anyone onboard got sick.
“Given that everyone on board was healthy, I would have rather stayed at sea and completed the full transect before steaming home,” says Prend. “It was undoubtedly safer on the ship than it is here [at home in San Diego], so I wasn't in a big rush to get back.”
The bulk of the science mission had to be scrapped, but the decision was made to prioritize the SOCCOM floats. Talley had to change the locations of deployments based on the ship’s restrictions, taking into account ocean currents and depths. Usually she has weeks to make the calculations, but this time she had to come up with an entirely new plan overnight. The team rallied and deployed six SOCCOM floats and collected water samples.
Then came a three-week transit across the Atlantic Ocean, including an equator crossing. Surface water samples were taken while underway, keeping the scientists busy and on shifts to run analyses. Making the most of time aboard the ship was all the scientists could do. They got daily updates about the virus along with the crew.
Plans for the ship’s arrival and everyone’s travel home from Norfolk continued to change throughout the journey. Becker and Prend had to fly across the U.S., returning home over a month in to San Diego’s stay at home orders, which began only a few days after they left in March.
“It seems that everyone is trying to make the best of this unprecedented situation,” says Prend. “That didn't really come through when we were at sea and all we saw were sensationalized news stories. My impression now that I'm back is that people are adaptable and resilient.”
Prend’s blog posts, unlike those from earlier cruises, are full of mentions of the coronavirus. He also did a wonderful job of explaining the scientific impacts of the SOCCOM float program. Prend wrote an article for the SIO website about resilience in the face of the pandemic.
What’s Next?
Shipments usually start going out in September for the upcoming SOCCOM season, and the team is already hard at work planning. But there are many factors involved and much more uncertainty than usual as every institution determines reopening procedures. Ship schedules are in flux as cancelled cruises jockey for a spot later in the year. SOCCOM relies on already-planned expeditions and Talley hopes that the strong relationships she’s cultivated in the community will lead to a successful season.
Another factor is float production. Many of the sensors have to be ordered from Seabird Scientific, which has been closed for months and may have a backlog once they reopen. The floats are built and tested at MBARI and the University of Washington, both of which have been closed since March. Months of work in those labs has gone undone and the short Southern Ocean season, dictated by ice coverage, can’t be delayed.
“Everyone is expecting a big impact,” says a pragmatic Talley. “The next season is all up in the air. We’re just going to see what we can do. Whatever floats we can scrape together, we’ll deploy.”
International cooperation and multidisciplinary teams are necessary for all scientific pursuits, but it’s going to take a redoubling of those efforts to secure a safe and successful season. The SOCCOM team is prepared to put in the work.
