Monday, July 27, 2009

7/21 - Tuesday Weather Camp Summary

Tuesday’s session keyed on weather map analysis, with campers first drawing a national isotherm analysis. Campers learned interpolation techniques, data checking procedures and how isotherm banding is created on TV, newspaper and Internet weather maps.


Campers were also challenged to find a “bad” temperature observation on a Midwestern regional weather map. Once students saw how to locate such a questionable observation, they began their journey toward becoming “observationalists.”


We also undertook a few demonstrations and activities. Campers spun up hurricanes and tornadoes in large mixing bowls, using food coloring as a tracer. Then we dropped food coloring into a layer of milk within a Pyrex pie plate. The outer edge represented the Equator of a flattened Northern Hemisphere. The center of the pie plate represented the North Pole.


Campers made both straight and curved lines with a pipette and saw how to create the swirls and whirls patterns seen on weather satellite images.


Finally, we used a wind machine (a.k.a. hair dryer) and a baking pan filled with water and clay outlines of the Atlantic basin to showcase the creation of ocean currents.


Campers explored the meteorology behind Chinook (warm downslope) winds, the conceptual model of a supercell thunderstorm (including creating a thunderstorm in bread pan), the wave cyclone model and what atmospheric pressure means. For the latter, we keyed on automobile and bicycle tires.


We also examined global circulation patterns, including polar easterlies, prevailing westerlies and trade wind easterlies.


In the iLab, students explored several of the web sites at the Howard Links page. The Howard links listing is a “work in progress” and reflects links that campers may visit more often then not. The links listing will be available on the web even after camp ends.


Students also began the camp forecast contest today.




Explaining Chinook Winds.



Holding Up The Atmosphere (figuratively, speaking, that is).



Spinning Up Hurricanes.



Tornadogenesis in a Bowl.



Twister 2.



Can you find the “bad” data observation?



Creating the Gulf Stream and associated oceanic circulations.



Swirls and whirls at the jet stream level.



Surface weather map analysis.



A completed and colorful weather map analysis.

Friday, July 24, 2009

7/20 - Monday Weather Camp Summary

The first full day at Weather Camp opened with a presentation by Ron Gird (NWS) about National Weather Service operations and severe storms. It was followed by a climatology talk from Andy Horvitz. Andy keyed on the local Washington, DC observer network, which is likely the most dense of any place in the U.S. (and possibly the world). Campers saw, through vivid examples, just how variable weather elements can be. The urban heat island jumped off the temperature analysis maps. Rainfall variations, on the scale of a few miles or less, were also easy to spot.


Campers also got to randomly choose their camp research projects. Results of their research will be shared in a session between 1pm and 3pm on July 31. Parents, Howard faculty and graduate students, National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration staff and speakers are invited to attend.


Campers next each plotted a separate climograph (data plots showing temperature and precipitation monthly averages) for a selected U.S. city. Working within their teams that day, campers had to use their information about U.S. geography to determine their climograph city. Most campers either correctly identified the city or the geographical region correctly!


Campers also visited the ILab, a modern computer lab site on the Howard campus. Mike Mogil took campers on a tour of various weather sites through links posted at a specially created links page. Campers were then allowed to explore other links sites.


Finally, using various links, campers were shown how to view data, charts, forecast models, satellite imagery and more in diagnosing weather patterns and creating forecasts. Real-time satellite imagery showing a disturbed area of weather near Puerto Rico allowed us to discuss thunderstorm outflow boundaries and what these mean to potential tropical storm development.


We then created a consensus forecast for Monday night's low temperature and expected rainfall amounts and a similar forecast for high temperature and rainfall on Tuesday (for Washington DC airport - DCA).


We also talked about times zones and how meteorologists used a standard time zone (Greenwich, England) to ensure that observations could be matched more easily.


After dinner, campers viewed "The Day After Tomorrow" and critically analyzed it for errors and misrepresentations of science.



We started out with some projector problems.



So, our first speaker had to present in "fireside chat" format.



Using "whatever" was available to demonstrate a physical concept.



"Look, mom...the food really isn't so bad after all!"



Getting student IDs.



Andy Horvitz helps students understand climatology.




Making climographs.



Making more climographs.



Welcome to the ILab!



Intense!



Focused on the Web!



The "GROUP," except for the Camp Director (i.e., photographer).

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

First Day of Camp: 7/19 Update

The 2009 Howard Summer Weather Camp began on Sunday, July 19th under spectacular Washington, DC weather. After a pizza lunch in which campers and families devoured 9 medium sized pizza, the 12 new campers introduced their neighbor to the rest of the campers and participated in an impromptu “table topics” session (in which they had to talk extemporaneously for between 30 and 60 seconds). A “pre-test” followed in which campers had to answer 26 weather-based questions. Campers also went outside to better visualize how their senses doubled as meteorological instruments. The session closed with a talk about clouds that showcased Luke Howard’s efforts at arriving at a globally-recognized cloud-naming system.

Kim Smith, the Program Manager for NCAS and Mike Mogil, Camp Director, also discussed various administrative details of the camp.

And every camper received the following campware: tee-shirt, backback, water bottle and a jump drive.


Impromptu table topics session.


Filling out the weather pre-test.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Days 7 and 8 AEROSE-V










I am starting to have fun out here now. Over the last couple of days, we have begun to collect a data stream, “sniffing” the sky through passive and active measurements for the first evidences of distant fires and dust storms traversing the oceans. The passive measurements include the radiometers, spectrometers, atmospheric profilers, and gas sensors. The active measurements include the samplers and soundings. We are beginning to see some traces of new types of aerosols than we have been encountering but cannot be certain that they are not coming from ship activities (trash incineration and routine deck operations) or from the environment. The satellite images show a mixture of dust and smoke in our vicinity. The models predict that there is dust aloft and smoke near the surface. Here in the middle of the ocean, nothing but a light haze is visible to the naked eye and even that has been clearing over the past few days. We have not picked up any significant discoloration on our filters and the ozone and carbon monoxide levels have been fairly low and constant. The main indicator that we may actually be intersecting something is the laser particle counter and condensation nuclei sensors. Their counts have doubled or tripled over the last twenty-four hours… but we don’t really know why.




The main quandary is whether we are seeing dust, smoke, a combination of both, or neither in the aerosol instruments. We actually have too little data (and time) to figure this out but the discussions and opportunity to compare instrument responses over the last three days has been interesting. Apparently, the atmospheric motions have sandwiched three distinctive layers of aerosols: an aged smoke plume originating from fires in Angola and the Congo, urban air from coastal megacities in west Africa being circulated around the Gulf of Guinea, and dust from Saharan storms to the north of the ITCZ . (Sometimes, atmospheric sciences field research is like a geography crash course!) My feeling, based on experience and some eyeballing of the filters (they are grayish to black), is that we have little or no dust at the surface but some aged biomass aerosol and urban outflow. The measurements of our handheld sunphotometers tend to support this interpretation, as do and the aerosol size distributions and gaseous pollutant concentrations. The main thing missing is confirmation of the chemical composition of the aerosols that we are collecting. We will see as we progress towards the east. The signals that we are tracking should all increase if I am correct.


We have entered the EEZ (exclusive economic zone) of Brazil near the Saint Peter and Saint Paul archipelago just north of the equator. This is just a lonely a patch of rocks with a lighthouse situated in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. However, because of international politics, we are restricted to a certain suite of activities while within 200 miles of its coastline. This means no balloons or oceanographic operations for nearly two days as we enter and exit its territorial waters. This will allow some boredom to creep into the psyches of the folks whose instruments are “detained” but there are plenty of other demands on our time.


I have been spending less and less time sleeping in anticipation of a “big” event. We have been hosting “midnight matinees” starting at about 11:30pm each night. These are planned down-times where we break from the monotony of our computers to go and watch a blockbuster, eat popcorn, and offer critiques over the soundtrack of some bombastic movie – usually action or comedy. Already, we have watched Body of Lies, Hancock, Gran Torino, The Changeling, Gladiator, Quantum of Solace, and Jumper over the last few days. This is good for me, since I do not watch much TV or go to mainstream movies. It also rejuvenates me for the home stretch of 2-3 hours additional work after the movie. Yes, that means I’m hitting the rack between 4:00am and 5:00 am each morning. I have grown accustomed to this but I can see the students who are attempting to keep up failing due to lack of stamina. The key is to take your power naps during the daytime, fuel up constantly (snack), and get your exercise. Once we get to 23oW, the ship will be buzzing with activity on both ends. Moorings will be recovered, repaired and deployed. Multiple types of ocean and hydrographic profilers will be launched around the clock. Weather balloons and special sensors for ozone (called ozonesondes) will be launched at a minimum rate of four times daily. Radiometric measurements with the hand-held sunphotometer will be taken every thirty minutes. In addition, my group records data continuously from twelve different instruments. These data have to be quality-controlled, screened for contamination, recorded, instrument diagnostics checked, and cleaned almost on a daily basis.


We will arrive at 23oW tomorrow. I anticipate visible smoke on the horizon (call me an optimist!) and a busy day for all of the science team. I have a growing concern that the students in my group are getting fatigued. This happens to everyone, but during the first week in a four and one-half week cruise is not a good sign. Two of the students are still seasick. One is almost constantly bed-ridden and the other is often incapacitated, even while in the lab. Two other students are experiencing recurring bouts of seasickness but are working through it. A fifth student is suffering from MADness. I am trying to talk him through but it is not yet sinking in. Wow! That is five of our eight students suffering. In fact, we may soon have to make an assignment change to account for the labor shortage on the ozonesonde preparation. Each day is a new challenge.







Day 6 AEROSE-V

Well, the days have effectively merged into nameless segments of time today. More than a few of our team are not sure which day it is or how long we have been at sea. After a few years of sailing, I count the days but do not do as well with the day’s identity. This was a productive day. I had to push the students a little harder today. As time moves on, and especially, with the time changes, the first signs of fatigue begin to manifest themselves. My colleagues and I call it the sleepwalking phase. Typically, the physical body has adjusted to being at sea, the nausea and uneasiness has mostly subsided and given way to listlessness. The best cure is to work through it, exercise, and find a routine. Unfortunately, this is more difficult than it sounds. The time changes and fixed eating times are challenging to most people – especially students – who are used to eating or sleeping on more random schedules. Our monitoring schedules (we collect samples, measure solar radiation, and usually launch weather balloons) are rigorous. Every hour there are suites of measurements taken manually, which are parsed out amongst the students. The schedules rotate to avoid time conflicts and to prevent overwhelming any individual student. The sleepwalkers tend to stay up later and later, get up later and later, miss mealtimes, miss measurement times, and stay perpetually tired. The most obvious sign is “maritime alertness deficit”or MADness. The signs of MADness include failure to remember the routine tasks – “What? Was I supposed to launch a balloon today?”, lethargic responses to requests – “Charles can you give me that wrench next to your hand?” “Blanking staring into the space just over your left ear… “Huh? And picking up a hammer”, excessive procrastination, pacing the ship, confusion, and babbling (some students will literally move from person to person for most of the day engaging in conversation at the expense of their duties).

One week is probably too early to expect that the first-time students will have fallen into the routine. Consequently, we senior scientists have to keep gently reminding them and trying to keep pace ourselves. The “house-of-pain” is my metronome. Running or cycling a couple of miles whenever I feel myself becoming listless keeps me alert. The other (more obvious remedy) is the power nap. That is a great thing about working on the ship. You are only a few minutes away from your rack and can go and take a 60-90 minute nap and return to your station refreshed.

Today we had extended showers as we passed into a front (one of several) imbedded in a tropical wave. This wave has insulated us from the current dust storm to our north, creating a barrier to north-south transport of air. We probably have one or two more fronts to pass over the next few days. We have experienced partly sunny skies and clear nights. Last night and tonight, I spent a little time on the fantail and portside railing to stargaze. The night skies near the equator and away from the light pollution of the city are fantastic. The planets and constellations almost beg you to take notice and I personally find the sheer magnitude of the stars you can see breathtaking as an east coast city-dweller.

Tomorrow will be the first day of data-reporting from the students at the group meeting. Everyone should have collected and analyzed some data from the past two days or more. This is a significant waypoint for us. Although the measurements are background, establishing the templates and protocols are critical for the remainder of the cruise. Understanding the importance of assuring the quality of the data, of recording and reporting all observations, of assessing instrument performance, and anticipating problems and opportunities is an important step for any measurement professional. Once again, it is early but I hope that we see the signs of the budding field scientist. A couple of the students are already asking the questions whose answers will help them truly understand what they are doing. This is exciting for me. Too often students are worried about asking dumb questions. What is most important is to ask the right question.

The ping-pong table was set up last night. This is an essential for the longer cruises. It breaks the monotony of the main lab. It serves as light exercise and provides an outlet for friendly competition. Sometimes, it can become addictive but we’ll stay vigilant.

Days 4 and 5 of AEROSE















I have run out of chocolate today (Day 4). This is not a good thing. Somehow, I neglected to stock up properly. Fortunately, the stewards are really killing it in the kitchen. I do not remember the food aboard the Brown ever being this good. The food for each meal is served cafeteria-style with several entrees of meat, vegetables, starch, and a small salad bar. There are three meals a day at the set times of 7:00am to 8:00am, 11:15am to 12:00pm, and 4:30pm to 5:30 pm. Quite often, the tastiest dishes are gone by the time I straggle up to the galley before lunchtime or dinnertime closes. I rarely make breakfast unless we have an overnight operation. In my previous four times on this ship (nearly six-months at sea), I cannot recall a similar occasion. We do have a reasonably large contingent aboard this cruise – 49 people including the three science teams, the crew, and the NOAA Corps officers. I suspect that the stewards are holding out on the “good stuff” – the designer ice cream at least I hope so. I am looking forward to something to sate my sweet tooth over the next couple of weeks.

We are moving through the part of the ocean known as the doldrums. Here the sea is glassy and smooth. The surface of the ocean undulates and ripples like the skin over the taut muscles of a huge, sinewy beast. To me, it is one of the most beautiful parts of the world. Since passing south of the ITCZ, we are enjoying more clear and blue skies. A school of dolphins came along the bow of the ship jumping out of the water in groups of three and four at a time. Yesterday, we also saw a few dolphins off the port side of the ship. It was a pleasant break to the barrenness of the region. As peaceful as it is out here with the purple and red sunsets, the deep blues and aquamarine colors in the ocean, a little bit of life is a welcome change. Other than the dolphins, there have been no sightings of birds, fish, sharks, whales, or other sea life.

We have changed two time zones in the past two days. That is taking a toll on the late nighters who stay up for the midnight matinee. We should not change more than once more. The time changes have nothing to do with time zones. They are a matter of practicality to make optimal use of the daylight hours for the crew. Our van was powered up today (Day 5) and most of the instruments (for gases, radiation, and aerosols) are ready or currently operating. I expect that we will be operational tomorrow – just in time for pristine, background marine air. We have run into a snag with our balloon operations. Apparently, a communication problem has arisen that is either a card malfunction or a software bug that we will have to resolve via electronic communication with the manufacturer. Our desperate hope is that the receiving unit does not have an irreparable hardware problem. We have been unable to launch a successful radiosonde since Day 4. The first two radiosondes went well but we are quite worried about the fate of this component of the mission because it is a cornerstone activity of the cruises. The radiosondes and ozonesondes provide us with unique insights into the thermodynamic structure of the atmosphere, transport and mixing, vertical structure, and response to air mass intrusions. Their data provide the context within which we interpret many of our measurements. I am looking forward to tomorrow. We have some members of our team feverishly working to resolve this issue.

Day 4 was indeed a full day. I spent most of the day on top of the trailer on the bow of the ship installing intake shrouds, threading tubing, and installing equipment. I always enjoy days like this; being out in the sun, feeling the warmth of the day, working with my hands and seeing the fruits of my labors. The search for new knowledge in the field is cathartic experience for me. I have grown to look forward to it each year. I also set the seminar schedule today and also gave the first seminar – “Why Should We Study Aerosols Over the Tropical Oceans?”. I was a little surprised that there were not any questions until afterwards but I gather from the non-verbal response that it went over well. We will have an informal seminar every two days immediately following the weather briefing and team updates. Once we begin the routine measurement schedule, I will start training the students to analyze their data. This is a challenging part of the cruise, as it requires patience, time, and hard work to begin to address the “whys” of what we observe and how best to represent the data we have collected to address the open scientific questions.





We are still making good time as we head towards the equator. Once there, we will have a full complement of operations day and night. The buzz of activity makes the time on the ship move along a lot faster. At present, my team is the most active during the day, scampering all over the ship taking measurements, installing instrumentation, launching balloons, etc. The other two teams are preparing for a hectic schedule of oceanographic operations beginning in about four days. I am looking forward to this time, too. We just skirted the edge of an “old” dust storm – catching just a tip of it at the surface and about two days of seeing dust aloft. This is a little disappointing to me as the dust is the major reason for the cruise. Intersecting these events are perfect storms of chance, preparation, anticipation, and focused action. They punctuate the long and difficult waiting periods while out at sea. Smoke from distant fires in African or South American savannahs and forests are the next wishful source of excitement. Absent these events, there is still plenty of atmospheric science to be conducted but the objectives of the main mission will not be met. The current forecasts appear to suggest that we will not see any smoke until after we reach the equator (in about 4 days). We will have to wait a little longer to have confidence in a forecast for more smoke (biomass aerosols), pollution from West African cities like Lagos, Dakar, Accra, or Luanda, and, especially, dust. We still have a good six to seven days before such an encounter and forecasts accurate enough to predict that. Therefore, we wait.





Day 3 of AEROSE-V











It’s a Monday today. I have to keep reminding myself of the days of the week because the days quite rapidly become anonymous without the normal frames of reference that we take for granted. The ship is cruising at a steady speed (about 11 knots) and about 300 nautical miles off the northeastern coastline of South America. No land is in sight but there are lots of clouds and convective systems. We will be losing an hour today as we cross another time zone to the east. The motion of the ship extends the daylight hours quite a bit. We briefly passed under our first rain band this afternoon but it only lasted a few moments. The haze is fading away as we travel further south. The satellite imagery and model forecasts predict that we will just cut across a narrow slice of the plume before we enter a more convective region (the ITCZ) and then into the doldrums. The doldrums are one of my favorite parts of the ocean – truly the marine desert. The sea looks like glass, placid, smooth-surfaced, and barely rippling as the ship cuts through the fluid mass. The sunsets and sunrises (on the rare occasions that I stay up for them) are simply amazing …but we’re not there yet.





Today, the students were frantic in their efforts to bring the instruments up to speed. I think that we have safely put the sea-sickness behind us. We have eight students aboard this cruise and two “teachers” – one a young female professor from Lincoln University and the other a high school teacher from Westchester, New York. The latter is participating in a special program called the NOAA Teacher at Sea. The other, is an assistant professor at a historically black college in Pennsylvania. The college professor and seven students have been assigned to specific tasks associated with a particular set of instrumentation to measure gaseous pollutants, aerosols, atmospheric radiation, or meteorological parameters. As I stated earlier, many of the students have never been at sea before. Likewise, most of the students have little, if any, experience with the scientific equipment to which they were assigned. This makes for a terrific challenge on both their part and mine (including my colleagues). We must train them to operate, educate them to understand, and show them how to navigate the challenges of field research in a “learn-as-you-go” environment. This is an atypical approach but one that we think is fruitful. The lead scientists see this as an opportunity to teach students “how to think” more than “what to think”.





Since today was a critical day with regards to capturing a snapshot of the aged dust from the existing Saharan storm. I applied some pressure to the aerosols subgroup to initiate sampling for fungi, and size-segregated microbiological and chemical composition. I am pleased to say that they were able to get the samplers up and operational for today. I expect that a second wave of instrumentation will be deployed tomorrow. Unfortunately, we still do not have full power in the equipment van, so this limits what we can do with many of the instruments. The winds have increased and it is difficult to steady ourselves atop the van to install sampling equipment. This has delayed us slightly but we are still quite optimistic about our chances to acquire some high quality data.





A couple of the students were challenged by “temperamental and/or ancient” laptops running dinosaur-ware and interfacing instruments to PCs. However, I am pleased to report that they all overcame their struggles by the end of the day. We held our first all-hands meeting to discuss ship protocols and expectations, to explain task scheduling, and to set the regular group meeting times (8pm each day). At these meetings, we have a weather briefing, listen to updates from each subgroup, plan for the next day, and listen to one of our colleagues’ brief presentation on their most recent data. I will probably give the first seminar on Wednesday and schedule the other folks subsequently.





I have had a productive day today. I completed reviewing two manuscripts arising from a collaboration with a colleague in Sudan, I completed my responses to reviewers’ comments on a manuscript that I recently submitted for publication, and I created a Facebook page for the scientific mission last night/this morning (AEROSE). We have already begun to field questions from an elementary school. I am planning to announce its availability to a few more summer programs or schools that might be interested in following us over the next 28 days. I hope to add some photos later tonight. I think that much of this is a direct result of internet rationing.





Well, we have group meeting in about 30 minutes. I need to get prepared, so I’ll break here. I will end the night with a workout in the “house of pain” – our nickname for the modest exercise space on the ship. I usually hit the gym for an hour before my late-night movie break. I also have to wash a load of clothes. Perhaps, I will be able to get that in before the meeting…