I thought I had seen people drink before. Hell, I thought that I had drank before. But, clearly, I thought wrong on both of those counts. I cannot, for the life of me, think of a reason to justify all of the drinking that transpired down there last week. There was no rhyme or reason to it, it just was. Field work just makes a man thirsty.
Taking this class was easily one of the best things I've ever done. We worked hard every day out in the field. Wake up at 7, leave the beach house by 8, hit the water by 9. My first three field days were in service on the R/V Acadiana, a 58 foot vessel that towed the CHIRP fish, the air gun, and the streamer to measure all the seismic data--looking at the subsurface of the seafloor we drove over. My second ship was the R/V Itasca using the multibeam, sidescan, and grab sampler--getting seafloor surface bathymetry. They were long, exhausting days and we returned to the docks around 6 or 7 every evening.
And then, drinking. So much drinking. Too much, possibly. Although I firmly believe that when you sign up for a class and, in the middle of said class, find yourself being forcibly pulled into a hot tub to drink and smoke cigars with your professors at a beach house, you have done a good thing. My liver disagrees, I'm sure.
And now, despite the 8 or 9 hour long class days, I find myself still enjoying the course. It almost makes me want to drop medicine plans and become a marine geologist. Almost.
Taking this class was easily one of the best things I've ever done. We worked hard every day out in the field. Wake up at 7, leave the beach house by 8, hit the water by 9. My first three field days were in service on the R/V Acadiana, a 58 foot vessel that towed the CHIRP fish, the air gun, and the streamer to measure all the seismic data--looking at the subsurface of the seafloor we drove over. My second ship was the R/V Itasca using the multibeam, sidescan, and grab sampler--getting seafloor surface bathymetry. They were long, exhausting days and we returned to the docks around 6 or 7 every evening.
And then, drinking. So much drinking. Too much, possibly. Although I firmly believe that when you sign up for a class and, in the middle of said class, find yourself being forcibly pulled into a hot tub to drink and smoke cigars with your professors at a beach house, you have done a good thing. My liver disagrees, I'm sure.
And now, despite the 8 or 9 hour long class days, I find myself still enjoying the course. It almost makes me want to drop medicine plans and become a marine geologist. Almost.
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