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7 |  | | Mission
Specialist Mike Barratt. | | RELATED
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NEEMO
7 Journals NEEMO
7, Mike Barratt
Day 6, Saturday, October 16, 2004
This morning we started the day a bit differently. Instead of watching the daylight
appear from our galley table, we were out in scuba gear lying on the sea floor
in about 70 feet of water. There was a faint lunar glow breaking the surface as
we made our way outbound along the excursion line and watched the habitat lights
fade into the blackness behind us. We tied off a couple of cave reels on the excursion
line and dropped to the bottom, keeping the lights and the comm off. It's amazing
what there is to see in spite of the darkness. What little moonlight was penetrating
to that depth was producing shadow outlines of coral heads, and the slightest
scratch of the bottom threw out a shower of bioluminescent sparks. Occasionally
you could look up and see shadows of what were most likely large barracuda cruising
overhead, and you would realize two things: there are creatures out there with
senses you don't have, and you may not be at the top of the food chain this morning.
With the occasional strategic light beam, we were able to see the night shift
getting ready to pack it in. These were reef crawlers mostly, shrimp, crabs, brilliantly
colored bristle worms, and large feather dusters. As the light came up, the morning
commute began. Fish began to awaken and move, and those speedy and voracious yellow
tailed and horse-eyed jacks began to come in on the habitat where the smaller
fish (read breakfast) congregate. We also found ourselves among many juvenile
barracuda who seemed very curious about us, following us as we came in close and
burned our remaining air and dive time around Aquarius.
Living down here, you have an opportunity to see things you would only happen
upon by chance in years of surface diving. You have the unique ability to get
to know individuals and watch behavior patterns of small groups. The species diversity
right around the habitat is striking in its own right. And since I am sitting
here by the window and BOB (big old barracuda) is hovering right next to me, these
guys deserve special mention. There are a handful of very large barracuda and
perhaps a couple score of juveniles that just seem to hang out here, like a pride
of lazy lions amidst the hundreds of mostly smaller inhabitants. Mostly they seem
to mingle peacefully, like a tranquil aquarium scene. But when you look at their
size and health, not to mention those foreboding teeth, you realize what successful
predators they are. On rare occasion you glimpse a flash of silver as one of these
hits a fish and severes it into two neat halves that are quickly devoured. The
shoal from which the meal was culled scatters instantly, regroups within a minute
and life goes on like nothing happened. This is the African Savannah, in three
dimensions.
After our dawn dive and a fast breakfast, we stepped again onto the treadmill
of experiments, imagery, timeline management, and public and educational outreach
activities. It's a fairly frenetic pace, and we were happy to head out the door
again to do our final Waterlab construction sortie. Getting out on scuba definitely
makes up the peaceful parts of our day. We finished bolting the main elements
together and made advantage of a habitat guest diver - our training mentor Ross
Hein - to run the video camera as we floated the truss structure to the top of
the towers. It is truly moving how much pride a group of whacko type A perfectionists
can take in a rickety lattice of PVC pipe! She looks good out there on the sea
floor, as good as any platform NASA has ever built. Pirate flag notwithstanding. |
