There she was in the harbor, the R/V Polarstern, with several low-slung buildings, a security fence and a visit through customs the only thing between me and my floating home to be for the next ten weeks. You could just make out the familiar AWI logo on her smokestack over the rooftops, but with the rest of her hidden I couldn’t get a sense of her size. I’d been to sea before, but never aboard Polarstern, only in the Arctic and not for more than four weeks. A group of about a dozen scientists, technicians and students had gathered outside of the customs house in Cape Town in the heat of the midday sun, and the charity workers who were handing out food to the refuges seeking asylum in South Africa kept offering us sandwiches. I was anxious to get on board ship so I could unpack the suitcases I’d been living out of for the past week while on vacation in Cape Town, and to make sure that all of our scientific equipment made it aboard. It would make for an especially long voyage if an important piece of kit were discovered to be missing!
Finally, after the last passport had been stamped, we were taken via shuttle van inside the secured harbor. My first impression of seeing Polarstern from the outside was that she’s the biggest research vessel that I’ve ever been to sea on, and my second impression once aboard and searching for my room in her labyrinth of decks and corridors was that she was not only the biggest but the most confusing to get around in. But before long those who had previously sailed with Polarstern were giving guided tours to us newbies. Over the course of the day a total of 53 researchers made their way to the ship, filling the berths to capacity. With my husband and I both on the cruise, there were no surprises as to whom I’d be bunking with.
For security reasons we weren’t allowed access to the laboratories until we were pulled away from the dock, so I spent my afternoon organizing my things in the small but nicely laid out cabin. With two bunk beds, plenty of closet and cubby space, a desk, couch, refrigerator and private bathroom, it makes for a fairly comfortable home away from home. You can do a lot with a little space if you try!
The day wore on to dinnertime, and I was quite hungry and looking forward to tasting the wares of the crew who would be in charge of keeping me fed. It’s important that your stomach and the chef get along with one another when you’re facing ten weeks at sea together. Fortunately there was a nice variety of tasty food to be had.
As nightfall approached we all made our way outside to the top deck to take in the view of Table Mountain and the cityscape one last time. It was a beautiful evening, and as Table Mountain disappeared into the darkness so did we as we pulled away from the dock. The wind and waves picked up the further out of the harbor we went, so I retreated below deck before the city lights were replaced by only starlight.
As the ship’s rolling increased, I paid a visit to the ship’s doctor for an anti-seasickness patch, deciding to be safe rather than sorry too late. I’m glad I did, as it seemed work. Then it was off to bed to be lulled to sleep by the ships rocking, feeling like a baby in a cradle.
Kelly Brown, University of Bergen
Photo: Andre Meijboom, IMARES