The Research Vessel SEWARD JOHNSON (RVSJ), flagship of Harbor Branch Oceanographic Institution's fleet, provides a floating laboratory and welcome relief from the harsh conditions on Atol das Rocas. It is a place to rest, repair, clean up, and chow down. Mission leader Dr. Samuel Gruber calls the RVSJ "our heavenly ark." (Photo by T. Smoyer/HBOI)

Life onboard the Research Vessel SEWARD JOHNSON (RVSJ) revolves around meals. Being a big fan of eating, I'm not complaining. If the lack of leftovers is any indication, neither is the rest of the crew.

6:30 - 7:30am, March 23, Breakfast -- The kitchen smelled a lot like home this morning: eggs and coffee and cereal. The food was delicious, but conversation around the galley was in short supply as the sleep-deprived researchers struggled to rise.

After a post-breakfast briefing, the science crew disappeared into the field for the day, presumably hunting, tagging, or wrangling sharks -- perhaps locating some of the adult lemon sharks that have been so elusive throughout our mission. I gave the scientists my best wishes, and waved them goodbye. Today, I wanted to spend some time getting to know more about our mission's massive, high-tech home base -- to talk with the crew responsible for getting us here and keeping us running. I wanted to watch the ship itself in action.

I found Chief Engineer Stewart Moreaux standing in a hot wind just outside the engine room. Together with the two other engineers onboard, Moreaux maintains the ship's innards, constantly monitoring gauges and performing preventive maintenance.

For some time, I've been wondering what lurks in the belly of this vessel. The constant drone from the engine room, the hot venting gases, and warning signs conjure images of a dragon's lair.

Moreaux and I donned ear protection and entered the explosively loud engine room.

"The fans serve two purposes," yelled Moreaux into my ear goggles. "While we're at anchor, air circulates and vents gases. While we're underway, the air intake cools the engines. You're only hearing the generators now. Neither of the two engines are online!"

I shook my head, convinced that I had misheard him. I can't imagine what it must sound like when everything is fired up.

Moreaux continued, "We like to keep things as simple as possible. I can't go buy a piece of equipment out here at sea. I have to rely on what we have onboard."

Apparently, Moreaux's plan has worked. The engines and everything else on the RVSJ has been running in perfect form throughout the mission.

11:30am - 12:30pm -- Amid the toil of equipment maintenance and other labors in support of science, LUNCH came -- a quick but welcome meal. With most of the scientists gone, the crew settled back into work after their break with few distractions.

"We're on for eight hours in a 24 hour period," said Arc Anderson, a member of the ship's crew. "But, our job description changes depending on the day. If there is any science happening, we help with that, or we maintain the vessel, keep watch or help repair any of the smaller craft onboard."

This rough and wild expedition has certainly provided plenty of opportunities for repairing things. Salt air, rough seas, myriad passages through Atol das Rocas's treacherous inlets, the thrashing of sharks -- all have taken their toll on the gear. The ship's crew have saved the mission on more than one occasion, piecing together the remains of various minor mechanical disasters. The flying, splashing, drowning outboard motor from our DAY 6 coverage comes to mind. The crew had that thing working again in hours, better than it did before its unsuccessful attempt to flee the expedition.

5:30 - 6:30pm, Dinner -- Conversations float around the ship's common area, inevitably turning to the expedition. One of the favorite topics seems to be Rainha (Queen) Zelia, the sole resident and fierce guardian of Atol Das Rocas. She has proven to be an interesting addition to our adventure (see our DAY 3 coverage for more about the mysterious Zelia).

The crew are gradually winning the trust of the "Island Lady," and the number of people permitted on the island has increased from 10 to 14. Nevertheless, she remains adamantly protective of this place. Now that I've seen its untouched beauty, it's impossible not to respect, even applaud, her dedication.

After dinner, most of the ship's residents contently settled in to a night of number crunching, movie-watching, and communicating with friends and families. But, communication from the middle of nowhere can be an expensive endeavor. An average satellite call from the ship runs around $3.50 per minute. Email is a slightly cheaper alternative, but there's still no time to mince words at twenty cents per kilobyte. Nevertheless, the fact that we can relaibly keep in touch from a remote atoll off the coast of Brazil is impressive.

11:20pm, the bridge of the R/V SEWARD JOHNSON -- Vince Seiler, the strong-willed, but pleasant captain of the RVSJ keeps his watch on the ship's high-tech bridge. At night the room glows red like a photographer's darkroom. The radar monitor, GPS, and fathometer contibute their own subtle green illumination. So this is the nerve center of a leading-edge science ship...I hate to make the comparison, but it really is just like the movies.

"I'm mainly concerned with the safe navigation of the ship," said Seiler, settling into the Captain's Chair, looking out over the moonlit ocean. "When we're at anchor, we still have to be sure we're not drifting, and we have to keep an eye out for other ships, among other things."

Tonight in the far distance, a lone vessel (probably a fishing boat illegally plying these protected waters) tossed in the waves. The panoramic view afforded by large windows all around gave my inexperienced eyes no indication that any other action was happening. I left the captain to his watch on the dark bridge.

I think I'll sleep pretty well tonight, to the sound of the generators. My day has left me feeling that I am on a very good ship, and that the ship is in very good hands. Can't wait for breakfast!

Ship's Captain, Vince Seiler. (Photo by T. Smoyer/HBOI)