The lab is mine!

Feeling the need to work when you could be caving is not really a good thing, but when it happens you are best off making the most of it. I arrived in the lab on Saturday, intent on finding out how deep in one of my cores the forams would disappear, and to get a batch of samples ready for organic carbon content measurement.

An empty microscope lab on a Saturday

The first thing I did was turn on the radio, really loud, on BBC 6 Music. And then I got my samples out. I had come with the intention to sieve, split, microscope, weigh, dry and burn. That would see me in three of the four labs on the 8^th floor. Shamelessly I spread my stuff out over acres and used all facilities at the same time. All labs were mine. Opulence!

A ditto wet lab

I got quite some work done. And on Sunday I was back for more organic carbon content work. And this time I had to pop over to the office to check something, and when I got back I had lost my monopoly; Rob was there too. And even though that meant the radio had been mercilessly changed to some useless R&B station it was still a good thing! One can’t have enough Robs. And by sacrificing the weekend I now think I can finish both the carbon work and the microfossil counts of that specific core this week. That’ll make me feel better!

Looking good on the Hoe

Would I really be on my way to Wales when half the university would be prancing around in tuxedoes? No, of course not. Plymouth University (formerly known as the University of Plymouth; you can see why they decided to raise tuition fees to the absolute maximum. They need to pay for such ludicrous name changes!) tries to sell itself as “the enterprise university” and they hand out enterprise awards every year. And they do that during a glamorous ceremony on the Hoe. One that I would not be able to attend as I would be off to Wales. But then I got too busy and dropped out.

Roland had mentioned he would go; he was nominated for the “World Class Research Award”. How that would be enterprising is everybody’s guess, but I would be the last person to dispute the nomination. So he would have to dress up smart and, by his own guess, go there to applaud at someone else actually winning. And I regretted not being around to lie in in the bushes as a paparazzo and enjoy the tuxedo.

From the Plymouth University website: Roland the nominee!

Then it was the actual day. Having decided not to go all the way to North Wales (expected drive time: 7 hours) I was in the lab, when at ~17:20 I got a phone call. From Roland. He said he was about to leave home, tuxedo and all, but he didn’t have a bow tie. The ceremony would start at 18:00. So he wondered if I had one. Me? A bow tie? Try again! But I do have a bicycle, so I just asked Richard the lab technician, who was the nearest bloke, and fortunately one that had lived in Plymouth long enough to know where you can buy what, where I should go. I’ve never even seen him in a tie, but he did know. So ten minutes later I was in the M&S buying a most splendid specimen…

I was at the Hoe, under the scrutinizing glance of Francis Drake, in good time. No sign though of Roland and slightly pregnant Maria. Time ticked and ticked. I did see, to my enjoyment, lots of other people in their finest parade past. Then the music in the marquee already started. Somewhere after 6 I finally saw two familiar shapes...

Drake looking serious near the entrance of the marquee

Roland told me they were asked to arrive between 18:00 and 18:30, so they weren’t really late. Maria bent over her substantial 8.7 months belly and put the tie where it belonged. Now they were ready for the ceremony! They looked splendid.

Aren't they beautiful (all three of them!)

On the way back to the institute I saw the dean and the head of school get out of a cab; also in tuxedoes. And reaching the office building I bumped into one of our PhD students who was not only nominated for Student of the Year but also for Postgraduate Research Student of the Year. What a man! And wearing a tuxedo as well, of course. He was hardly in a hurry as he was even more convinced than Roland he wouldn’t actually win.

From the Plymouth University website: Andrew the double nominee!

Maybe this was Fate having mercy on me for missing out on a caving weekend. Men in tuxedoes don’t make up for that, but it does help!


PS they unfortunately were right - they didn't win. Too bad!

Cave rescue in the news

I didn't realise I was involved in something this topical! True; in May one of our cave rescue practices turned into a real rescue, and in July there was a real proper call-out due to a bloke who broke his leg in Pridhamsleigh Cavern (which I could not respond to as I was in Switzerland), but that was in both cases something that just involved one victim who never was in a life-threatening situation. Both events were therefore only covered by local newspapers and concomitant websites. But today I just had a look at the BBC website to stay in touch with what happens in the world, and there was an article on an underground accident in Wales that was so serious it was on the front page. Seven guys and a coal mine, water coming from somewhere, three guys getting out but one in such a state he was rushed off to hospital, and the other four still trapped while I write this. Blimey! I hope they get the chaps out soon...

How thisissouthdevon.co.uk reported on the practice gone wrong (link in text above)

How thisissouthdevon.co.uk reported on the rescue of the chap with the broken leg (link in text above)

And the BBC on the case in Wales (link in text above)

PS By now they have all been found dead - a very sad outcome! I wish all bereaved lots of strength.

Dramatic skies

In December I should finish the last article derived from my thesis. Next week I should work on the last manuscript I'm first author on from my Norwegian job. Now I should be working on the second last manuscript I'm first author on from my Norwegian job. And all the while I should do this tonne of lab work that's looming menacingly above me. One can imagine I went into workaholic mode. I keep skipping caving trips, and even skipped a whole caving weekend in Wales. I just work. It's the only way of getting through this.

It's hard. But it does have perks: if you go home late at this time of year you can catch some spectacular skies. These are the results from Monday and Tuesday...

Cave rescue, not only for humans

After catching up for half an hour with two of our quite eastern cavers, for whom quite many of our trips are far away, without seeing any other of our club, I started to believe this trip may be a hoax. And when neither Dave nor Lionel answered their phones that belief got stronger. But it wasn’t! The three other cars were populated by people who don’t read the emails giving information, and had parked at the wrong place. So quite some time later we all kitted up after all, and started the beautiful walk across the moors, and through long stretches of hardly traversable heathland, to the mine shaft of our preference.

Bold cavers in the rolling hills

Notice the ruin of the mine-related building where the sheep are lying!

We got to the very overgrown shaft, rigged it, and went down. It was a shaft leading to a very narrow lode, which we descended on a rope too. Lionel was first (surprise!), and soon announced we had an unexpected host: an adder! I had never seen one in the UK, so I enjoyed his (or her) beauty. It was a youngster, so I wasn’t afraid it would have anything on us. It probably was afraid we were more of a threat on it. Which was true. It decided to ceaselessly stare menacingly at Lionel while we sorted ourselves out in that narrow passage.

The first descent

The lode-with-narrow-passage-above the first descent lead to

Lionel going down the second descent. Above three pics by Dave

And what he found down there!

It was a pretty bugger. It's staring at Lionel when I take this pic. Before and after as well...

After the double descent we had unfortunately run out of rope, which made the descent of a next drop somewhat tricky, but we managed. Just tie some cow tails and belay belts together, make sure some tough guy holds onto the end, and Bob's your uncle. Even though on the way back up I ended up being the tough guy for Lionel! Luckily I pulled it off. And then the only way was into the water. I was the only one who felt like that, so I climbed and then swam across, climbed over a collapse, swam a short second stretch, and came to a dead end. When I came back the rest had already started to come back up. There was no more sign of the adder.

Lionel and Steve in the narrow passage

When we were all up it turned out that one of the men had decided a mine is not a place for a snake: it’s not warm enough, and there’s nothing to eat, except perhaps the odd caver, but they can be a bugger to catch. The guy had carefully put the snake in his tackle bag, taken it up the shaft, and released it on a nicely warm tree stump, where it spent its time hissing at Dave, who tried to take a picture of it. And then it was time to go to the pub. This had been a long anticipated trip, and one guy had even come from deep down Cornwall for this... It turned out as one of the shortest SRT trips we’d ever done. Oh well. At least we probably saved a hapless serpent's life!

The pub overlooking the Moors

York

I had been cornered in the corridors of the university by two men who said that York was beautiful, that history had shown I don’t get there very often, and that given that I now had to go there for a conference I really HAD to run away for half a day and explore the shameless beauty of the old centre. And there sure was something to say for that. However, I have already pointed out what the temporal and personal dimensions of this conference were. You can’t run away for half a day if that is 25% of the conference. And part of the use of a conference is also the networking, and that costs time as well. I would just see if I would get any opportunity to see any of it...

Networking!

The first night of the conference wasn't even spent anywhere near York. Antony, our co-PI and a co-organiser of the conference, had invited the whole Plymouth and Durham contingent to his place for dinner. He lived in some village where it still really gets dark at night. So the conference started with beer, wine, chilli and networking in a beautiful old house in the Yorkshire countryside. A great start! And he even put all that had accepted the invitation up for the night.

The next day there was just time for checking into the hotel between the last talk and the conference dinner... The next day wouldn’t be much better. After the last talk we would have our project meeting. And then we would be hungry and need food. And then we would have to be in bed at a reasonable time in order to be fresh enough to drive the whole way back the next day, without incidents.

These pictures were all taken while I walked to the conference in the morning. York is beautiful!

The York idea of a pavement

The most exposure to the city I got was after dinner the second day. I decided I was too tired to go to the pub, so I just took the long way home. Around the cathedral, through two city gates, and through the shambles; some very charming medieval streets. I can’t say I’ve seen much of York. But what I saw I liked! And who knows, maybe I will be back one day, with more time...

And some pictures of York by night

The Shambles

All at Sea

I had my data in Excel; both my own and that which had been produced by Tasha. I gathered it, processed it, ordered it, combined it with other data, and put it in C2. I then used that program to construct transfer functions, and make environmental reconstructions. Then the data went to SigmaPlot (which crashes all the time) for plotting (hence the name), and to Illustrator for polishing. From Illustrator I exported it as JPG or PNG and thus it went into PowerPoint. And then it was Sunday evening and I had worked enough for the weekend. But when I got home I realised I may have put in into a presentation, but hadn’t even had a good look at it.

Soon it was Wednesday, and we set off to the beautiful and history-laden city of York, in order to ignore it and immerse ourselves in science. Most of it more scrutinized than mine.

King’s Manor of the University of York held a conference called “All at Sea?”, dealing with many things coastal. Sea level change (aha!), coastal protection, coastal archaeology; the works. It was a small conference; only two days, 37 participants, 26 talks, and 6 posters. Lots of interesting stuff! One of the highlights for us was a talk on how compaction can influence sea level reconstructions. This is another one of these keeping us on our toes-talks, of which we also had a bunch in Bern. We also all enjoyed a talk on Antarctic sea level reconstruction. Can you imagine the fieldwork!

The beautiful venue

The conference was organised by both the universities of York and Durham, and therefore Antony and Tasha were there too. And as Durham and Plymouth are 7-ish hours apart we take every opportunity where we accidentally meet to have a project meeting. As we did this time. And it was a serious one. Going through my hurriedly made talk already took a while. And we’re behind. I can’t wait to get into the lab and get rid of the backlog. And on that note: this blog post is long enough. There’s more to do!

And this was my temporary home! Don't worry, taxpayers: it was quite cheap...