Cold enough to visit an Eisbär

I live in a smallish, northern, German city on the Weser River. Bremerhaven has five first class museums (that I know of) and a zoo. All of these are a short walking distance from my apartment. Exciting for a suburban girl from Delaware.

This morning Andreas’ graduate student, Cassandra from New York, (so upstate she can “see” Canada from her house) and I decided to visit Zoo am Meer. (zoo next to the sea). We chose to go on an icy cold day because the zoo is home to mostly colder climate animals and creatures that live in the water, including an Eisbär (polar bear). I’m not a huge fan of zoos and I certainly did not want to see the poor polar bear in the heat of summer. Thus, a frosty November morning seemed like happy polar bear weather.

We assumed this was a duck until she decided to check us out. Zoo am Meer, Bremerhaven Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum
We assumed this was a duck until she decided to check us out. Zoo am Meer, Bremerhaven Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum

Before moving to Bremerhaven, I read a short chapter in a German guide book describing the city. The book suggested that Bremerhaven was good for a day visit at most, and there was a very strange zoo created out of cement to look like a giant rock.

Arctic Fox, Zoo am Meer, Bremerhaven. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum
Arctic Fox, Zoo am Meer, Bremerhaven. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum

The zoo is strange, however, I really enjoyed my visit. It may be because Cassandra and I were the only visitors for a while. The habitats were nice and well planned around a climbing area for children in the giant rock landscape. Most of the animals seemed pretty content for being stuck in a zoo in Bremerhaven, including the polar bear.

Zoo am Meer Bremerhaven Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum
Zoo am Meer Bremerhaven Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum

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No match for a polar bear. Photo of the author by Cassandra Elmer.
No match for a polar bear. Photo of the author by Cassandra Elmer.

A Fishhead and a redhead walk into a cafe’ in rainy Schleswig

How do two Americans in Germany celebrate a birthday? They travel to Schleswig! Now I have my German friend’s attention. They’re all thinking, Schleswig, what the hell is so special about Schleswig? Everything and nothing, friends, it was a fun, laid-back, easy, romantic weekend away.

Schleswig, Germany from a window in Gottorf Castle
Schleswig, Germany from a window in Gottorf Castle

In July Andreas brought me to Lübeck for my birthday. So, I said that he should pick his favorite place for his birthday. Easier said than done. So many choices! One week I was told that we would travel to Spiekerroog, the next week to Föhr, every few weeks he would choose a new place. Finally, a week before his birthday I begged for a decision, so that I could Google the place, and his finger landed on the map at the town of Schleswig in northern Germany.

Andreas is born and raised a “Fishhead.” He loves fish, cold, windy, rainy weather and sitting in little cafes eating “Kuchen” listening to the locals speak “Plattdeutsch” by large bodies of water. Schleswig was all these things.

We stayed in a small hotel instead of an Airbnb which is unusual for us, but it was attached to a little restaurant, included breakfast, and was on the water. The hotel was located by Holm an old fishing village. In the center of the village is the oldest Abbey in northern Germany.

The oldest Abbey in northern Germany. Holm, Schleswig. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum
The oldest Abbey in northern Germany. Holm, Schleswig. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum

A beautiful, idyllic place full of cafes and artisans. The people in the village are proud of the age of their homes and often have the year posted in large iron numbers.

Andreas Muenchow appreciating the glass art in front of a gallery/ studio in Holm, Schleswig. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum
Andreas Muenchow appreciating the glass art in front of a gallery/ studio in Holm, Schleswig. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum

They and the rest of the city are also extremely fond of roses. There are two or three trained rose bushes on the front of every house and most stores. It must be amazing when the roses are in season. We were lucky enough to see some blooms in November.

A lane in Holm. Notice the rose bushes trained against the houses. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum
A lane in Holm. Notice the rose bushes trained against the houses. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum

The biggest surprise for me in Schleswig was the art collections. We visited an Outsider Art museum located in a poorhouse from 1630.The building was almost more interesting than the art. Next, we walked to a modern art museum located in the old stables of Gottorf Castle.

A surprisingly wonderful museum showcasing modern art by north German artists. A must see if you visit Schleswig. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum
A surprisingly wonderful museum showcasing modern art by north German artists. A must see if you visit Schleswig. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum

We also viewed the art collections in the Castle as well.

The chapel in Gottorf Castle, Schleswig. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum
The chapel in Gottorf Castle, Schleswig. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum

We found the Cathedral of St. Peter of Schleswig (hard to miss the tallest building in town) that had its original stained glass. Most of the churches we’ve visited so far have been bombed and replaced with modern glass so this was really exciting. (for me)

An amazing 3-D wood carving. The intricate details were unreal. Cathedral of St. Peter of Schleswig. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum
An amazing 3-D wood carving. The intricate details were unreal. Cathedral of St. Peter of Schleswig. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum
Beautiful, intricate, huge stained glass window in the Cathedral of St. Peter of Schleswig. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum
Beautiful, intricate, huge stained glass window in the Cathedral of St. Peter of Schleswig. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum

Between museum visits and walking around town in the rain were many stops to café’s for coffee and cake.  Andreas had birthday cake many times over the weekend.

Cake at the castle. Salted caramel and marzipan. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum
Cake and coffee at the castle. Salted caramel and marzipan. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum

In the first café we sat near a Danish girl in snow pants who also celebrated a birthday. Her family played a tiny music box and sang Happy Birthday in English.

The birthday boy, Andreas Muenchow, with his favorite gooseberry torte and hot chocolate. Schleswig. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum
The birthday boy, Andreas Muenchow, with his favorite gooseberry torte and hot chocolate. Schleswig. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum

We didn’t just eat cake in Schleswig, although it felt like it, Andreas also enjoyed many fishy dinners with local beer which made him pretty happy.

Super good, fishy birthday dinner. Holm, Schleswig. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum
Super good, fishy birthday dinner. Holm, Schleswig. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum

The best indication of whether Andreas and I like a place is if we start researching housing prices, which we did on our third café morning. I recommend giving Schleswig a visit. It seems to be very popular with bicyclists during the summer months. There is also the Hedeby Viking Museum which we missed due to walking distance and time restraints. I’d like to return there someday.

Old in Art School a brief review

When I recently published a blog about my current artwork I searched WordPress out of curiosity to see what other women artists create and write. I came across Dr. Nell Painter and read that she had recently published a book titled Old in Art School. This caught my attention as I’ve considered returning to art school after 26 years to earn my MFA.

Old in Art School by Nell Painter. I recommend.
Old in Art School by Nell Painter. I recommend.

I was hoping for some tips on applying to schools, managing graduate critiques and the general atmosphere and expectations of art graduate school from the perspective of someone older than 25. The book offered this and a truly interesting memoir about Dr. Nell Painter. The full story was unexpected and I’m happy that she spoke of her life experience during her studies, not just the art school happenings. I am sad to read that women are still thought of as somewhat second-rate artists who will probably not become “real artists.” I had enough of that sentiment during the completion of my BFA.

Pages bookmarked for future reference and so many new artists (to me) to look up. Old in Art School by Nell Painter.
Pages bookmarked for future reference and so many new artists (to me) to look up. Old in Art School by Nell Painter.

I recommend this book to women artists and anyone else who is considering a career change mid-life. Also, to anyone who enjoys a beautifully written memoir.

Nell Painter and I both had/have a German sabbatical year. We also hail from Newark. Painter lives in New Jersey and I’m usually in Delaware. I hope to meet Dr. Painter someday to talk about our paintings over coffee or a beer.

 

Oh Helgoland..

Magical Helgoland Island in the North Sea, seals, birds, alles wunderschön! This is the recommendation from new German acquaintances. You have to go there, you will love it, they say.

Andreas’ brother and sister-in-law visited from Dietz and suggested that we explore Helgoland. We planned to suggest the same idea to them. Good company made this a fun day. Helgoland, as we might say in America is a ‘trip’, unique, strange, and a little overwhelming.

Burkhard and Carina enjoying the sunny side of the ship on the way to Helgoland via Cuxhaven
Andreas’ brother and sister-in-law, Burkhard and Carina enjoying the sunny side of the ship on the way to Helgoland via Cuxhaven

We drove from Bremerhaven north to Cuxhaven on the Elbe Estuary, our first time in a car since the taxi ride back in Iceland two months ago. My first time on the Autobahn, oh boy! In Cuxhaven we boarded a ship for Helgoland. Andreas and I were happy to be on a ship again.

Fishing boat on the North Sea between Cuxhaven and Helgoland. Photo by: Dragonfly Leathrum
Fishing boat on the North Sea between Cuxhaven and Helgoland. Photo by: Dragonfly Leathrum

After a two-hour passage we approached Helgoland and I spied upon it with my long camera lens looking for seals on the beaches. No seals, just people. We docked in the harbor with a few other ships like ours, disembarked and walked with the other tourists towards town. Actually, we had no idea where we were going, we just followed the herd. At one point some of the tourists broke off and started up a hill. We followed this unending, string of humanity to a well-maintained, brick path winding its way along the top of the hill, ‘mountain’ with an incredible view of the sea.

Helgoland in October 2018. Photo by: Dragonfly Leathrum
Helgoland in October 2018. Photo by: Dragonfly Leathrum

There were so many people on this path on this tiny island in October. Lucky for me a woman in the throng was traveling with an English-speaking boyfriend and was explaining the historical placards along the way. What really struck me along this path; the total lack of garbage. No trash in the weeds, no cigarette butts, no doggie bombs anywhere to be stepped on. This would be a different scene in America.

Lange Anna as seen from our crowded walking path on Helgoland. Photo by: Dragonfly Leathrum
Lange Anna as seen from our crowded walking path on Helgoland. Photo by: Dragonfly Leathrum

The path ended in a tiny town with a noticeable lack of cars and bicycles. What?! Germans love both. They are not allowed here. The only vehicles were tiny electric city trucks (the firetruck and ambulance are gas powered) and what I call Amish scooters. Adult size scooters with small bicycle wheels. Andreas read somewhere that children under the age of 16 can use a bike after 5:00 pm between October and March. The town doesn’t want to add street signs.

Electric truck in Helgoland. Photo by: Dragonfly Leathrum
Electric truck in Helgoland. Photo by: Dragonfly Leathrum

The island has been inhabited since 697, but the first and second world wars messed that up. Helgoland was bombed heavily during the second world war and then the British used it as a bombing range after the war ended. In 1947 the Royal Navy detonated 6,700 tons of explosives creating the biggest single non-nuclear detonations in history. (The island was evacuated during these times.) The explosion shook the main island down to its base, changing its shape.

The wildlife we saw on Helgoland. He says, "Cake not bombs!" Photo by: Dragonfly Leathrum
The wildlife we saw on Helgoland. He says, “Cake not bombs!” Photo by: Dragonfly Leathrum

Today there is a small population living year-round. It enjoys value added tax-exempt status if you’re looking for cigarettes, booze or perfume. You can also buy rocks. We chose coffee and pastries.

At the end of the day we joined the tourist march back to the ships. A great white migration of tired families. The voyage back was subdued as the travelers sought sunny spots on deck out of the wind or sheltered their families inside. The sunset was magnificent and unusual.

Sunset from the ship on the Elbe Estuary between Helgoland and Cuxhaven. Photo by: Dragonfly Leathrum
Sunset from the ship on the Elbe Estuary between Helgoland and Cuxhaven. Photo by: Dragonfly Leathrum

Andreas’ co-worker recommends experiencing the island for a few days staying over night after the migration departs. Maybe you can see seals and birds then.

Coldest Labor Day Ever!

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Sea ice on the Northeast Greenland Shelf. Photo: Dragonfly Leathrum

BERGFEST! celebrated the midway point of our expedition. The cooks outdid themselves last Bergfest Sunday with incredible meals that I can’t describe without upsetting my vegan friends. All on board contributed to a seriously eclectic, playlist with almost three hundred songs of dance music from around the world. I think it went on until three or four in the morning. What a great beginning to week four.

This was the coldest, iciest week as R/V Maria S. Merian sailed beyond 80̊ North latitude. The goal was to recover a mooring in front of the 79̊ N Glacier on the east coast of Greenland. Unfortunately, the Merian is not an icebreaker and there was too much sea ice to get close enough to the glacier and mooring. The scientists were able to take CTD measurements in the area, though.

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Scientist Ellen Werner points to our location just about 500 miles from the North Pole. Photo: Mubashshir Ali

Labor Day morning there was snow and ice on the ship. No pool parties and bar-b-que for us Americans on board this year, but who misses those things when sailing among icebergs along a coastline with snowy mountains. Yes, it did SNOW, on Labor Day, how cool, literally! At sunset the glassy sea mirrored the moon’s reflection in front of Greenland’s glaciers. The temperature was below freezing and you could hear the deep booming sound of the icebergs crashing around in the distance.

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SNOWING! Photo: Dragonfly Leathrum

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The moon’s reflection. Photo: Mubashshir Ali

That was the good news, unfortunately this northern location prevented us from receiving internet or satellite signals. That made ice navigation difficult. Visually you can see about twelve miles ahead, if it’s not foggy. It was foggy.

The next morning Scientists Mubi and Luisa spotted a polar bear swimming near the ship and I missed it! I was disappointed, but happy that others were on watch and shared a few images.

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Polar bear looking for ice and seals. Photo: Luisa von Albedyll, enhanced by the 4:00 am CTD shift

Midweek, moving east away from the coast, we encountered larger waves and swells again which did not make me feel so great. The sea eventually settled down when we sailed up to bands of sea ice. The Arctic sea ice flows with the cold, fresh East Greenland Current from north to south and we had to cross it to get back home. The band is made up of very old ice. It’s an interesting change from the more scattered sea ice near the coast as thin bands of dense thick ice stretch out for many miles along a sharp drop of bottom depth. After watching ice float by all day and getting cold doing so, I warmed up at an evening birthday party for two of the crew.

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A band of Arctic sea ice moving south. Photo: Dragonfly Leathrum

As the week drew to a close there was much work to be completed for the end of the voyage. Some people were busy deploying and recovering moorings and others processing final data and composing expedition reports. The cooks surprised us again with an awesome Bavarian meal which included a Bavarian white beer. A welcomed change from the Jever Pilsener that my cabinmate likes. Also, Dr. Andreas Muenchow won the ping pong tournament in a smashing final match, the winner of foosball is still to be determined.

These weeks aboard the R/V Maria S. Merian (the original Maria S. Merian was a famous botanical artist) have been an unforgettable experience. Not just because I have taken over two thousand photos to remind me, but because of the friends I’ve made and everything I’ve learned about Oceanography and living on a ship. I’ve been to places and seen things that most people won’t have the chance to experience and I’m extremely grateful to those that asked me to be a part of the voyage.

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Dr. Andreas Muenchow winner of the MSM 76 Ping pong tournament. Photo: Dragonfly Leathrum

Mostly loving every minute

R/V Maria S. Merian headed from Greenland’s ice to Iceland’s green hills to Greenland’s ice again during our third week at sea.IMG_4561 (2)

South of Iceland Surtsey Island is visible in the distance. Photo: Dragonfly Leathrum

We sailed from west to east along southern Iceland to recover ocean moorings from a submarine ridge that separates eastern Iceland from the Faroe Islands. There were a lot of Icelandic fishing vessels in the area most of which left for port as the weather turned bad. Time passed strangely for me when breaking waves at 13 ft and gale force winds of 63 mph hit us. My cabin window is four or five stories above the sea and this sea was splashing up against my window as the ship crashed through the waves. Windshield wipers cleared the windows of salt water on the bridge one level above my cabin. It was intense.

I spent the day sleeping, drowsy from the seasick medicine. My cabin mate was awesome, he left his lab and checked on me throughout the day bringing little pieces of bread and reminding me to drink water. At one point I was brushing my teeth in the bathroom and I noticed that the water was flowing sideways from the tap. I almost called out to my cabin mate before I realized that the ship, the bathroom and myself were all in fact sideways. The seasick medicine makes me dopey too.

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The spray from the storm waves at the bow of the ship. Photo: Dragonfly Leathrum

Eventually the calm eye of the storm found us and even though the seas were still rough the sky brightened. When the fog lifted we saw the mountains of southern Iceland and the Vestmannaeyjar Islands. Cabin mate was excited that Surtsey, created by a violent volcanic eruption in 1963, and the biggest Island we could see, was two years younger than him. Puffins live there, but I saw none through my telephoto lens.

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Icelandic mountains and a glacier on the horizon. Photo: Dragonfly Leathrum

The rough seas soon returned as we headed back to Greenland now to the north of Iceland. I walked around the ship holding on to railings and stumbling from one side of the gangway to the other. To travel anywhere on the ship stairs are involved and depending on whether the ship is pitching, rolling or both gravity shifts a bit. You can time your steps to save energy, that is, climbing up the stairs is easier when the ship is moving down and gravity “feels” less strong. In the cabin I used elbows, shoulders and hips to hold open cabinets and doors while trying to get dressed. I also found myself sitting longer than usual at the dinner table, because the thought of trying to walk across the moving floor with a tray full of glasses and dishes seemed like a bad idea. It reminded me of the first time I was a waiter on a train. Knitting, sleeping and complaining were about all I got up to.

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Foosball (Kicker) and table tennis tournaments below deck. Photo: Dragonfly Leathrum

By Friday we were closer to the east coast of Greenland, a little further north this time. We encountered calmer seas, with a few icebergs. Scientists and crew were competing in Foosball (kicker) and ping pong tournaments below deck when they were not processing data from CTD stations, recovering moorings from the ocean, or running the engines of the ship. Foosball in high seas is pretty unpredictable.

Another storm was on the horizon with high winds. I packed away all loose things laying around the cabin, showered while I still could without being thrown around, and ate a bit more in case the storm made me seasick. I also spent my time on deck taking pictures.

Saturday arrived, but the storm did not. The waves picked up, but the winds did not. Traveling north across Denmark Strait to Greenland, I noticed the temperatures were dropping. Ice formed on deck and we were forbidden to go outside. The mountains of Greenland seemed close and became clear, sea ice appeared, and more icebergs drifted south as we moved north. The week and August ended with an unusual, beautiful sunset behind layers of fog and mountains.

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Sunset behind fog and mountains on Greenland’s eastern coast. Photo: Dragonfly Leathrum

So much beauty in the world

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The R/V Maria S. Merian creates gentle waves on calm, sunny day in Scoresby Sound. Photo: Dragonfly Leathrum

Land ho. Greenland. We glimpse mountains that peek through low-lying fog with clouds above as the ship slowly approaches the coast. Scoresby Sound is one of the largest and longest fjord systems in the world. My telephoto lens is working overtime to focus closer on the snow and glacier covered peaks. Before entering the Sound, we took measurements at the mouth by way of moorings and CTD stations. Only then our journey into Scoresby Sound began. We determined how much warm water enters the Sound and how it travels to reach the melting glaciers that produce the many icebergs we saw.

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Greenland barely visible through the fog as we approach the mouth of the sound from the Demark Strait. Photo: Dragonfly Leathrum

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My favorite iceberg of the many I saw. I really like the bright blue ice intersecting the white. Photo: Dragonfly Leathrum

At first, we could see a few icebergs in the distance. I took photos of every one that passed. I would try to go back to my cabin to process photos and another even more interesting iceberg would appear just outside the porthole of my cabin. The mountains along the Sound appeared wild and unspoiled. Some peaks were covered by snow, some were not, some had waterfalls, others were dry. It is August after all, the height of summer with 20 hours of sunlight. My favorite feature, besides the distinct layers of sediment, were the many small and steep glaciers that had found their way to the Sound and the paths they create by carving the mountains. The passage of time is easily read here.

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A tidewater glacier making its way around an obstacle shaping the landscape. Photo: Dragonfly Leathrum

I’m intrigued by the changing colors of the ocean from almost black to bright blue. The color morphs each day and even during the day as we change our location and clouds filter the light. About 200 miles into Scoresby Sound we entered into the Nordvest Fjord. One day the water was still, almost glassy. The ocean reflected mountains and icebergs alike which created an image of peace, tranquility, and awe. The next moment winds picked up, creating waves that smashed into icebergs. Another day the water looked a deep turquoise and later changed with the sun to a bright turquoise I have not seen before. Pictures taken this day look like we were in the Tropics instead of the Arctic.

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A bright day aboard the ship in the Nordvest Fjord with a turquoise sea. Photo: Dragonfly Leathrum

Despite the distracting, dramatic landscape serious work was to be done. Mapping the rugged seafloor, Ellen’s instrument revealed a new science to me. She discovered that many of the islands in front of us were in the wrong place on the maps we had. I learnt a new word, “bathymetry” for this science that Ellen Werner of the University of Munich explains in daily meetings. I always look forward to her segment and watch her slowly evolving maps with new discoveries. Also, in our nightly meetings the scientists give short talks about their current work at home, because not all students work on Greenland Oceanography. They even let me give a talk about my artwork. No graphs or charts in my power point, folks.

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Ellen Werner discusses newly mapped bottom topography near the Denmark Strait. We call the Sea Hill, Ellen’s Hill. Photo: Dragonfly Leathrum

My seasickness retreated and I feel more surefooted on the ship. I am conquering my fear of heights as I get more comfortable standing closer to the ship’s railings when taking photos. Calmer seas also allowed me to paint again:

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Watercolor and colored pencil of an iceberg in the Scoresby Sound. 24cm x 17 cm by Dragonfly Leathrum

 

Written by Dragonfly Leathrum 8/28/18

 

 

Rollin’ on the waves with my scientist homies

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Sort of ready for the safety drill.  Photo by Andreas Muenchow

Seasickness comes and goes. I was hoping to be okay after five days in, and most of the time I am, but I’m still reliant on the seasick pills. There is nothing in my adult life that can describe what this feels like, but there are two experiences from my childhood that match it well. The first is riding backwards in the way back seat of a full-size station wagon in West Virginia. West Virginia is full of roads with sharp turns in the mountains where the road will also “drop” you for a second if you drive too fast over a rise. The second is swinging on a swing. The particular swing I’m thinking of was connected to my babysitter’s swing set. It was two benches connected to each other by a metal frame that you could pile a lot of kids on. We would pretend that we were either pirates at sea or for more drama, escaping the pirates. Of course, there were always alligators, sharks or both underneath, so you couldn’t just jump off when the swing got too high and the poles started to pull out of the ground.

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Rock and roll childhood

This is what being on the ship feels like to me only besides swinging from side to side the ship can swing in any direction, sometimes all directions so you feel a bit stirred up. Imagine that you’re swinging high on this swing but there is nothing to hold on to. Now imagine that you are doing this taking a shower, carrying a tray of food, reading, typing or doing anything that you need to do in a day. I thought that it would be a nice motion for sleeping, and sometimes it is. When it’s not, like last night, it reminds me of the scene in the early surfer movies where a girl would be thrown up in the air on a blanket on the beach, caught falling and then thrown up again. Okay, I didn’t mean to write thrown up, but you get the picture. The movement of the ship never stops. You can’t get out of the car, jump off the swing or ask the hunky surfers to please, for Christ sake, put you down. This morning was a rough one, I saw spray at my window over four stories above the ocean and the ship is moving quite a lot. This very green Dragonfly stayed in bed hoping that sleep, dreams and a seasickness pill might make it better, it did. Knitting, staring at the horizon when it’s visible and peppermint tea help as well.

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View from the galley porthole.

Not everything about the ship being in constant motion is bad as I discovered watching a Star Wars movie the other night. The ship was rocking in the same motion as the land speeders racing through the forest. It was really cool. People pay money to have this experience in theatres. I’m going to watch the Phantom Menace tonight for the pod race, unless it makes me sick.

A lucky artist at sea

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Dragonfly Leathrum on the main deck of the R/V Maria S. Merian in Scoresby Sound, Greenland. Photo by Simon Wett UHH

I am neither scientist nor sailor but an American artist living in Bremerhaven, Germany looking at Greenland beyond the rails of R/V Maria S. Merian. How I got here is another story, but my purpose is to convey work at sea to a broader audience with support from the U.S. National Science Foundation. Dr. Torsten Kanzow of the Alfred-Wegener-Institute is leading scientists from Germany, England, Greece, India, and the USA in their various projects. We are all collecting ocean data in the Denmark Strait between Iceland and Greenland and in Scoresby Sound in Greenland. Even though I have been seasick on and off this first week of four, observing students, technicians, engineers, and crew working together is an eye-opening adventure.

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The Maria S. Merian docked in Reykjavik Harbor. Photo by Dr. Andreas Muenchow UDEL

The research vessel R/V Maria S. Merian is all work all the time. Different groups fill every minute of twenty-four-hour work days. They collect and process data, prepare instruments for year-long deployments into the ocean, and recover instruments placed in the water in prior years. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. I document what is happening from an artist’s perspective using photographs, drawings, paintings, and blogs. My first assignment was to photograph all members of the science party so a large poster could be made to help everyone get to know each other. Two days later I was seasick and missed a good photo opportunity when scientists, technicians and crew recovered a first mooring from the Denmark Strait. Dr. Andreas Muenchow from the University of Delaware covered for me and probably took better photos because as a seasoned sailing scientist he is more comfortable with deck operations.

The next day we saw an iceberg: My First Iceberg! Little did I know there were thousands of icebergs just beyond my horizon that I will write about next week.

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Iceberg in the Denmark Strait. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum

We sailed back and forth across the Denmark Strait between Iceland and Greenland to map a massive plume of dense water cascading cold Arctic water down the sloping bottom into the Atlantic Ocean. The ship stops every hour or so to lower a metal frame called a CTD that has many sensors and bottles strapped to it. This measures temperature, salinity, velocity, and oxygen levels. The scientists and crew also deployed and recovered moorings which measure similar things. The moorings are weighted down at the bottom with old train wheels. A nice bit of upcycling. All scientists meet every evening after dinner to compare new data and ideas that were collected and processed during the prior day and night. They organize all this in graphs and charts. It is fascinating to see the information visually. As a lucky artist I receive somewhat unexpectedly an advanced tutorial in physical oceanography without taking a single class in mathematics or physics.

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Mooring deployments in the Denmark Strait August 2018 from aboard R/V Maria S. Merian. Photo by Dragonfly Leathrum

It was a good first week even though my sea sickness pills are all gone. The scientists, mostly students, are extremely bright, nice, and working hard at their stations. The weather has been fair during the week. We enjoyed some unexpected sunshine and we huddled through a few cold and foggy days. I photographed sunsets, moon rises, whales, dolphins, and many of the different sensors, scientists, and science work. Calmer seas here and there allowed me to complete two paintings of Iceland as well.