Thursday 24 January 2002

At 1200, EST the Training Ship Empire State was located 145 nautical miles northeast of Vera Cruz, Mexico, at 20 degrees and 55 minutes North Latitude and 094 degrees 18 minutes West Longitude, steering course 228 degrees true at a speed of 10 knots. The weather continues to be excellent; clear, wind from the east southeast at 15 to 20 knots, air temperature was 78 degrees Fahrenheit, barometric pressure was 1011 millibars, seas were from the south at 1 to 3 feet, sea injection temperature was 78 degrees Fahrenheit. Depth of water beneath the keel was 2000 fathoms.

CAPTAIN'S LOG

"Learning is not compulsory . . . neither is survival."

W. Edwards Deming

Today is another beautiful day in paradise! Warm breezes, sunny skies, and a gentle swell that creates an easy roll, put texture into the trip. My preference would be to stay out here and not enter port. I love the routine and the rhythm of an ocean voyage. Up early, to observe the deck cadets shoot morning stars with their sextants; to tour the decks and spaces ahead of reveille, before the bustle of the day begins. Pre dawn is a good time to survey the hard work of the nighttime cleaning crews from the Maintenance Division. Decks are polished, brass shines, and even the mess deck - ordinarily filled with people and activity - is spotless and quiet at this time of the day.

In the galley, I can always count on a warm "Bom Dia" provided courtesy of Juventino Mateus, our Portuguese baker, plus his warm bread, fresh from the oven, and the first hot cup of coffee. The rest of the day is a blur of meetings and discussions. The Chief Engineer, the Chief Mate, and the Navigator are always included on my rounds as I take the pulse of the ship, but it is interaction with cadets that makes my job fun. From the senior cadet asking which shipping company she should go with after graduation, to the shy freshman looking at his shoes and asking if I got seasick too, it is the young people that give this training ship life. By evening, I am again walking about watching the cadets relaxing or working, depending on their duty assignment. There is always a group assembled on the fantail, waiting for sunset, hoping to glimpse the green flash as the spectrum of light from our distant star fractures into component colors on the knife-edge of the horizon.

Tranquility returns to the ship at night as hundreds of day workers sleep and their shipmates, standing watch down in the pit and up on the bridge, keep them safe. Only the dukes of darkness, maintenance gangs roaming the passageways in search of dirt, are up and about. I leave them with a mutual smile. They know that in a few hours I'll be up to check their efforts; quick with an "attaboy/girl" for a job well done, or a comment of a different kind reserved for the occasional holiday.

One critically important event that involves all hands and synchronizes the otherwise diverse nature of the ship's many activities is scheduled for today; the Fire and Boat Drill.

Survival at sea requires that mariners practice skills and prepare for eventualities that people ashore never consider. If fire breaks out in the dining room at home then the prudent resident beats a hasty retreat, calls the experts, and stands in the yard to watch. Out here? Well, there's no place for the sailor to run and the yard is quite the hike; the "experts" sleep in the rack above and 911 rings the next space. Therefore, we rehearse and train; we are the resident experts and we prepare to survive.

We take other precautionary measures too that may seem odd to beach creatures. For example, when was the last time that you willfully tried the steering before you wanted to turn or tested the brakes before you needed to stop? I am certain that none gently beeped the horn before reaching the rotary. Well, we do all these things and gladly. We are required by law to swing the rudder, operate astern propulsion, and sound the ship's whistle before entering port but there is ample reason. Imagine the embarrassment of having a 13,000-ton ship by the pier and it won't start? Now, picture having one out there and it won't stop. Yikes! So you see, that is why we prepare; the P5 principal (prior planning prevents poor performance) has merit; our lives and yours, (if you happen to be on the pier when the brakes fail) depend upon it.

Preparations for entering port systematically step through nearly all the ship's systems and guarantees that we are ready to pilot restricted waters. They also verify that we have arranged the necessary diplomatic clearance, a place to tie up, basic housekeeping service, and mundane things like tugboats nearby. These chores, and developing the confidence in our abilities to do them, will expand to fill all the available time but completing them is not optional. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of shore side happiness, depends upon it. We'll be ready. See you tomorrow from downtown Vera Cruz, Mexico.

CADET COMMENT

A day in the life of a Freshmen Engine Wiper

by 4/C Jamie Horton (Warren,RI)

After two weeks, my time in the engine room has come to an abrupt end. No longer am I a mere Wiper (yes, that's the title, and I do indeed wipe things up). Instead, I have progressed up the engineering food chain to earn the title of Fireman. Well, hopefully... I take my exam today, which determines whether I shall sink or swim in the competitive world of Marine Engineering. The training regime on Sea Term 2002 is intense: a total period of eight weeks of Marine Transportation, Marine Engineering or Marine Safety and Environmental Protection (MSEP); each major being allotted a two week period in which to expand the minds of each group of freshmen. The remaining two weeks of sea term are devoted to the maintenance of the ship, usually entailing scraping, painting, stripping, waxing, painting, and perhaps even a little painting. The ship already looks one hundred percent better than when we first boarded her a mere three weeks ago, thanks in part to the amazing efforts of the first maintenance group. Soon it shall be my turn, where I may even get the chance to paint a little. The engine room is exactly as I pictured it: Hot, smelly, dirty, and gluttonously educational. I thankfully lucked out in having watches while we were steaming down the coast, thus taking good advantage of the cool air pumped in through the vents. As we entered the Gulf of Mexico, the temperature slowly crept to a steamy 105 degrees. Not unbearable by any means, but no where near the comfort of our balmy (68 degree) hold. Enough about the temperature already, its time to discuss the fun stuff.

As freshmen, we are required to learn a series of systems that we have come to refer to as "Plates." These plates are comprised of four systems: Fuel Oil Distribution, Lube Oil Distribution, Main and Auxiliary Condensate System, and the Main Steam Cycle. One plate will be selected at random, and each cadet must draw out an accurate diagram showing how all of the main components of the system integrate together. While it may sound somewhat daunting, it is. To create an accurate picture of the system that one could commit to memory, each cadet wandered through the engine room on his or her respective watch, looking like a lost soul, dutifully tracing where each and every line, orifice valve, pneumatic valve, return line, main pump, auxiliary pump, etc lead to. After the first three or so times, one began to commit that particular system to memory, upon which each cadet was (unsuspectingly) pop quizzed by an upperclassmen.

On my second day of watch, I escorted my upperclassmen through each system, dutifully explaining each part and how it fit into the schematics of the engine room. Of course, my first time was, well, memorable. I melded systems together, left out areas, and generally felt like a blithering idiot. Have no fear though, the Training Rates were there! Their sole job was to walk each of the freshmen through a particular system, step by step, explaining all of the intricacies of each part of equipment. After only one walk through, I had it down pat. The remaining systems all followed the same format, i.e. confusion replaced by newfound knowledge and interest. Perhaps the best part of tracing these systems is that it always leads to a trinket of knowledge, and it is even more satisfying knowing that we could teach ourselves, rather than relying solely on the Training Rates. The opportunity for learning in the engine room is boundless, each watch is yet another chance to trace more systems, read more equipment specifications, and pick upper-class brains for answers to the (many) questions that each freshmen had. Tracing each of these systems also has an added benefit that I was totally not expecting: a good workout.

This ship is one big StairMaster. Tracing each system requires a jaunt up dozens of stairs, and sometimes through three or more levels of the engine room. After each watch, many a freshmen could usually be found in the Mess Deck, busily scarfing down yet another peanut butter and jelly sandwich, trying to regain all those precious calories burned off minutes before.

Watchstanding also required us to perform numerous other tasks, from regulating the flow of coolant to the cargo refrigerators to the cleaning of burners in the boiler, helping to maintain peak efficiency. Usually each freshmen cadet was placed with a sophomore, who was dutifully tailed on their rounds. Those not placed with a sophomore were left to their own devices, usually leading to the tracing of yet more systems. Something that I was not expecting during watches was that many of the freshmen were placed on gauge watches, requiring us to regulate the flow of cooling water or refrigerant to many shipboard devices. The Empire State is an old gal (pushing 40), and many of her systems are not automated the way they would be on a newer ship. She has her wrinkles here and there, but they are all part of her personality.

All of the above describes only half of our past two weeks. The other six or so days have been spent in either classrooms or labs. Each classroom session detailed what we were learning about on our watches. Everything from electricity to pipe threading was taught. A typical class day was about eight hours long,approximately mirroring our total watch standing time. It makes for a long day, with classes starting at 0800 and ending at 1600 (with a break for lunch), but it is tolerable.

Watches run four hours long, with eight hours off, followed by another four hour watch (one can see why it is nice to alternate watchstanding/training). For example, I have been on the 0000-0400 and 1200-1600 for the past two weeks. The eight hour block between watches is always utilized for the foundation of college life: sleeping and eating. Then it is off to the next watch, after which I have the remainder of the day to study, nap, hop on the treadmill, nap, eat, eat, or merely stargaze. Did I mention eating?

So far, Sea Term 2002 has been everything I had hoped it would be and more. It has proven itself as an invaluable learning tool, helping some decide what major they wish to pursue, and others with a snapshot of what life at sea is like should they be set on going to sea after graduation. I have already decided on Marine Transportation as my major, and Sea Term 2002 has given me an insightful (and enjoyable) look into life at sea. The camaraderie that one feels onboard ship is amazing, even more so when there are more than 500 cadets in a 565 foot ship ( it's even cozier since I berth with 156 of my fellow cadets).

Sea term is about 1/3 over, and the lessons that I have learned are already proving themselves invaluable. This is the first of four cruises that I shall take while attending MMA, and I can sense that this is by far the best way to apply all that we have learned to date. The company is good, the teaching is great, and the view is spectacular! Sounds like a winning combination.

QUESTIONS FOR FRIDAY 25 JANUARY

MATH: Engineering cadets must construct a tank to contain 175 gallons of water. They decided to build one with inside dimensions of three feet wide, three feet long, and three feet high. Is their tank large enough? How many gallons of water will their new tank hold? Hint: A small tank with a volume of 1 cubic foot holds 7.4805 gallons.

SCIENCE: Seawater is a compound made up of elements. What is the simplest structural unit that retains the physical and chemical properties of seawater called?

GEOGRAPHY: What word frequently used in geography means:

1. A sea with many islands.

2. The islands in such a sea.

Does this word fit the geography found south of Florida?

HISTORY: On an island in the Dry Tortugas, about 70 miles west of Key West, the United States built Fort Jefferson. One of the uses of Fort Jefferson was as a prison. What famous (or infamous) medical man was imprisoned there because he helped a presidential assassin?

ANSWERS FOR THURSDAY 24 JANUARY

MATH: The most abundant element is Oxygen. The least abundant is Magnesium.

SCIENCE: The process is called the Greenhouse effect

GEOGRAPHY: Florida Keys: Key Largo, Islamorada, Marathon, Big Pine Key, Key West

HISTORY: Wreckers, meaning salvagers.