Wire saw used to cut the edifices.

The last few days have been as close to round-the-clock as we could manage. The arrival of the first sulfide structure set the science and the excitement into high gear. Even though in three pieces, this structure, the biggest collected to date, opened up new avenues for inquiry. Cutting, coring, mapping, sampling, logging and sharing first impressions. With this success comes a triumphant sigh of relief and preparations for the next target began immediately.

The 8,000 foot line is released in the water by the Tully, one end is brought to the Thompson, and then pulled on board by all available hands (teachers, scientists, crew) into a holding basket. Using the powered capstan would be less strain on the muscles, but make this a 4-hour rather than a 40-minute job. All 8,000 feet must now be entered meticulously into to a basket that will return to the ocean floor, splayed back and forth, each end connected to the basket by a tie wrap, 37 layers, a gezillion tie wraps. Ten hours for three person shifts, one in the basket, two on the ties.

A new round of planning gets underway. Apparatus and systems engineered on paper, based on calculations and decades of previous practice, are now reconsidered in light of real successes and failures. Do we need to saw or will the natural fracture lines and a good strong yank on an 8,000 foot line do the trick? Is there a way to keep the structures intact? How big can we go?

One dive. A recovery frame is positioned on the next structure. More reconnaissance. A second dive. The structure is fully imaged, temperatures are collected along the surface of the structure with a custom-made, seven-probe instrument (measurements are recorded up to 300 degrees Celsius), some biota are captured. The basket line is attached to the recovery frame. Some probes and instruments are put in place; others are recovered.

Coring the interior of Roane to sample bacteria and other microorganisms.

With significant yanking by the significant U.S. Navy winch (I think it was 19,000 or 20,000 pounds of pressure on the cable) and no sawing, a second structure is retrieved. Teeming with biology, still steaming after its mile-and-a-half journey to the surface, another triumph, another sigh. An immediate temperature taking yields a reading of 90 degrees Celsius. This one is alive. More data, more samples. The process starts all over again. The line is hauled in. Last night another dive. More reconnaissance and estimates of structure circumference and height. More imaging and data collection. Recovery frames have been modified. A new sawing strategy is developed. An all-night basket filling.

The unspoken understanding is that you can always sleep after the cruise. Even knowing this, days and nights filled with intense activity and little respite start to catch up with everybody. People need to be roused more frequently for their watches. Meal skipping is on the rise. Amazingly, tempers rarely rise above an occasional mumble.

Today's agenda. A dive to collect samples from the water column. A second dive. Biology sampling. Place and cinch the recovery frames on two new structures. Lower two baskets. Prepare to recover two more structures. Ambitious by all accounts.

Katie Shaw and Mitch Elund of the University of Washington photo-documenting cut surfaces.

After 12 days, we are on a roll. Systems and teams are fully functioning and effective; a comfortable rhythm has emerged. But now the pressure is on. Suddenly a day has real meaning. Looming before us is Saturday, July 11. The Thompson will stay on station and continue the scientific investigation for another week, but the Tully, which does the heavy lifting, will be on its way.