Phil, one of the ROV pilots, had jokingly promised me that I could drive the ROV. Yesterday I finally hounded him down on this promise, and so during one of the transitions, I got to “drive” the ROV 1000 metres. By drive, this meant that the ROV was essentially on auto-pilot, with the thrusters counteracting the currents and keeping at a constant altitude above the sea floor.
There are always 2 ROV pilots on a shift. Yesterday I finally understood why. When piloting an ROV, you have to think about:
- Where is the data cable? Is it at risk of snapping?
- Will I hit the sea floor? Will I hit a sudden rock or other object sticking up?
- Where is the dredging pump? Is it being dragged on the sea floor?
- How close is the boat? If the boat gets too close, the data cable could break.
So naturally while driving, you have to glue your eyes to the screen to make sure you are going straight and you also have to rotate between 5 or 6 screens to monitor the listed qualities above. It requires a ton of concentration and several cups of coffee. I am grateful that I only had to do it for 30 minutes.
The only problem was that when Phil talked to me, I turned to face him and then my line wasn’t so straight anymore. Meanwhile, the other ROV pilot hijacked my camera and took pictures of his beard. Thank you.
After I reached the target site, everyone jokingly asked me whether I had found my true calling and/or new profession. Hey, it turns out that Scripps just got a mini ROV. I might have a job after all.
In other news, it’s a full moon!
