There is hardly time to sleep on this vessel, let alone write with any regularity. The Swedish watch schedule makes mischief with one's sidereal rhythms. And I'm left unsure of how much sleep I am getting overall. Indeed, I'm not sure how to assess what "overall" means, for the rotation of the watches through the 3 4-hour night watches and the 3 6-hour day watches does not repeat until 3 fulld days have elapsed.

Yesterday (or was it today?) I knew I was really tired, for when Annette surprised Martha and I with her stash of "Science candy" I failed to successfully eat a Reese's peanutbutter cup. Half distracted by yet another fascinating addition to the lab's aquarium, half enthused by the prospect of chocolate, and half pondering 3 separate projects to be multi-tasked, I deftly unwrapped the cup and tossed into my salivating maw. My eager tongue met only with frustration. Oddly, flavor swelled from my palette and cascaded along the innner edge of my upper teeth. Pushing up on the base of the cup, I crushed it against the roof of my mouth, but my tongue remained puzzled by a waxy experience and the flanking flood of flavor. Irked, I spat the crushed cup into my palm and scrutinized it angrily. Stunned that I had neglected to remove the candy from its brown paper cup, I looked up to see Annette and Martha doubled over laughing.

The daily reprieve from exhaustion (other than sleep) is the daily meeting of the ship on the quarter deck. Weather and navigation reports are followed by presentations of the scientific findings of the cruise to date. Class offers an opportunity to present the theory of sailing and oceanography, an apt supplement to the daily regimine of hands-on experience. We have covered points of sail, turbidites, how to heave to via a Crazy Ivan or double jibe, and the basic geostrophic nature of Gulf Stream eddies. Captain Al has read to us of the importance of sleep while asail, while Gary has illustrated continental rifting and the formation of the Atlantic using only newsprint and a Milky Way bar. Classtime also affords an opportunity for the students to share what they have learned about pointed questions and their own expertise or interests. There is always a snack break and often significant distrations... today Bihn's fish lure hooked a Mahi-mahi mid-lecture!

The highlight of today and the cruise (thus far) was the swim call after the line identification relay race. On the edge of the Sargasso Sea, likely in the meanderings of the Gulf Stream, we lept from the bowsprit into the 21oC (~66oF) indigo drink. It was glorious! Emerging from a white charge of bubbles, I snorkeled in 3000 feet of azure expanse -- an infinite half-space of fuzzy blue, subtley populated with dense life as far as my eyes could see. Though the saying goes "blue, blue, blue... dead, dead, dead," I found an evanescent jelly or salp spiral, a drifting clump of sargassum with fish, or a mysterious turquoise sequin in every separate liter. Though I have yet to snorkel in a true oligotrophic gyre center, I must insist that the oceans are not filled with sea water, but with a soup of (mostly) gelatinous life.

The oceans constantly deliver us wonderful creatures and phenomena. I have marvelled at the perfect fit of the of the phronima amphipod inside the case of a gutted salp. I have rested near the rail with the storm petrel. I have been stung, just as has the Portugese man of war fish.