Deep Wound

Tuesday 26^th of April, 2011

I saw something that most people never see, and if you see it on yourself, something is seriously wrong.  The subcutaneous fat layer of my thigh saw the light of day briefly before being flooded by blood and wrapped in a towel.  Arriving at the dock with intentions of an afternoon sail during my day off, I sat down and relaxed while observing a game of backgammon.  In due time, the host returned home and we prepared for our departure.  Being the last one on the dock, I made sure to get my belongings securely over the rail before attempting to climb aboard. 

With the high tide resulting in a step up over the rail and the pitching boat creating a moving deck, I grabbed the hand of another passenger to help myself onto the boat.  Once my right foot was securely planted on the deck, I stepped off the dock on and swung my left leg out and over.  Be it a different pitch, or a lower trajectory, my knee came into contact with an unfinished stanchion.  Relatively hard. 

Immediately I knew something was wrong, but was not concerned until is saw that subcutaneous fat layer exposed.  As I learned from an EMT, this part of the body lies below both the epidermis and the dermis.  It is the last layer before muscle and all of the accompanying parts like veins, arteries, tendons, etc.  I saw a globule of what I can only imagine as fat.  Luckily, the bow of the boat had been pulled so close to the dock that I went directly back onto the dock, never coming close to falling into the water.

If that were to have happened, I am sure that the nurse sharks that just finished circling a cleaning station would have come after me with vigor.

Back on the dock, safely, I whimpered for help.  According to people who were there, I was the most passive exclamation for help that anyone had ever heard.  It did not start to bleed immediately, so people were confused as to why I was laying down with my leg elevated.  Seconds later the blood came and people realized it was serious.  A second boater retrieved a towel from his boat and applied pressure.  Others from my group carried me inside. 

I took one look at the wound during this time and knew for certain that it was bad news.  Not only was it wide, it was deep too, and there were definitely going to be stitches coming.  Being on Cape Eleuthera, the nearest clinic was 15 minutes away, and there is no guarantee that the doctor would be there, or that they would have the supplies needed to sufficiently handle my wound.  The medical team went into action, getting sterile gauze pads, wraps, and tape to attempt to stem the bleeding.  As I got into the car, I asked my roommate to collect my passport and wallet, because who knows where I might have to go to get this thing fixed.

Our first stop was the Wemyss Bight clinic where I waited alone for 45 minutes before the nurse and doctor realized that they did not have the appropriate stitches to handle my case.  Because the cut was so deep, they needed to have dissolvable stitches.  We moved on to the Rock Sound clinic, another 10 minutes away by car.  Compounding my frustration and pain, I was not given a pain killer or aspirin because it thins the blood.  In Rock Sound, my stitches were overtaken by a woman with chest problems who was having trouble breathing, and a baby whose coughing had not allowed her to sleep for three days. 

Finally, at 6:45, a full 3 hours after the incident, the doctor went to work on getting me sewn up.  Once the wound was cleaned through basically dumping an alcohol mixture on my knee, the first step was a painful injection of lidocaine.  Then two more shots were administered after the anesthetic had set in.  Four carefully placed stitches went deep into the tissue.  An additional 10 stitches went on the surface.  After four hours I got back in the car and got to chow down on a conch burger with macaroni and cheese and some french fries. 

Back on the Cape, I went to a reception that was supposed to be followed by a movie.  The movie could not be broadcast due to a faulty internet connection, so instead, my injury was the main attraction.  I heard stories of how ghostly my face had been and how no one believed I was injured initially. 

In total, there are 14 stitches in my leg right now.  There will be a wonderful scar when this heals.  And I cannot be in the water (including boat support and showering), for 2-3 weeks.  Luckily though, I should be able to participate in the 4-mile Super Swim at the end of May.

WARNING: Picture........

Sextant Readings at the Schooner Cays

Yesterday the Math Department took 24 students out to the Schooner Cays for an afternoon.  Due to the shifting sandbars in the vicinity, it is impossible to take a direct route, meaning the 5 mile trip becomes 8 miles.  You might ask yourself, what does riding in a motorboat out to a distant island have to do with mathematics?  The purpose of our trip was to expose students to the ancient maritime navigational aid of the sextant.  By using a combination of mirrors, angles, and eyepieces, sextant users  are able to take measurements of the sun at 3 very important times during the day; sunrise, noon, and sunset.

With the advent of standardized timing and time zones, plus technology such as GPS, the need to use a sextant has diminished considerably, but it can still be a valuable tool for any ocean-going vessel.  Despite being in the same time zone, Boston and Detroit do not have the same time of sunrise.  Despite having the same time of noon on a watch, the sun is not in the same position in the sky.  To compensate for this discrepancy, there is a term called the Local Apparent Noon.  This is a time of day where the sun is at it's peak in the sky.

The students began taking readings at or around 12:45 PM, after taking into account certain errors.  The dip error (eye height above the horizon) and the index error (when the calibration of the lenses is off) are important pieces of information that will allow you to have more precise readings.  We encouraged the students to take readings every minute.  At 1:04 PM questions came pouring in wondering why the numbers were going down.  Without having a true Celestial Navigation background, the concept of Local Apparent Noon had been glossed over and had to be experienced before it could be understood.

Continuing through the early afternoon, students took readings at intervals of either 30 seconds or a minute.  One group was so adventurous as to take a reading every 10 seconds.  Without every actually paying attention to the movements of the sun, students were amazed at how fast the Earth rotates and the difference each minute resulted in.  This appreciation of the world we live in and having it tangibly connect with mathematics is something that a traditional classroom cannot provide on a regular basis.

Biodigestion - A Bahamas First!

On the 13^th of April, 2011, The Cape Eleuthera Island School created the first recorded experiment of Biodigestion in The Commonwealth of the Bahamas.  Biodigestion is a way for the energy within animal waste to be harnessed and made into usable forms.  This concept has been around for thousands of years, but has recently gained popularity as the population exploded and significant issues with untreated human waste became apparent.  Currently, The Island School has a “blackwater” filtration system on campus known as the “Poo-Poo Garden” from which plants can draw nutrients.  This system does not remove all of the pathogens nor can it deal with the waste from nearly 100 people.

The campus has been actively searching for a solution to this problem and arrived at biodigestion due in part to the favorable conditions that The Bahamas provides, but more so the availability of glycerol.  Glycerol is a by-product of the bio-diesel production and was considered a waste product because of its inability to be used in large quantities.

After reading numerous articles on construction methods and types of digesters, our 6 students built scale models of the system in order to run tests on how different amount of glycerol affect the production of methane.  Methane, as known as natural gas, is a gas that when unused does about 20 times more damage to the atmosphere than the equivalent amount of carbon dioxide.  Therefore, it is important to harness this energy source and greenhouse gas before it enters the atmosphere.

Our primary input is pig waste, weighing on kilogram, mixed with water to create a viscous slurry.  When inoculated, the slurry will begin a stage called hydrolysis.  Moving through the stages of breakdown, called acetogenesis and acidogenesis, the slurry begins methanogensis.  At this point, methane begins to produce, changing the pressure within the first container.  A tube connects the first container to the second, and similarly the second to the third.  The second container has water in it, which becomes displaced into the third as gas pressure increases.

Once the process is completed, the methane can be captured from the second container and collected or burned outright.  As mentioned earlier, at upwards of 20 times more dangerous than carbon dioxide, the free release of methane into the atmosphere poses a great danger to the Earth.  When burned, methane changes into on CO₂ molecule and a water molecule in the form of steam.  Also, trace compounds have been found but none as harmful as pure methane. 

As you might imagine, the amount of gas that can be harnessed from one kilogram of waste can be considerable.  When mixed with glycerol, an agent which increases the rate of production, this amount is increased over a shorter period of time.  Two of our trial run digesters failed after the pressure inside the containers caused the caulking to fail.  After 5 days, we still had enough gas in our remaining two digesters from the 8 pigs on campus to get a sustained burn of 20 seconds. 

Currently, we are running a second trial using what we learned in the first trial to figure out the best ratio of glycerol to waste to maximize our output.  In a large scale production, this technique has the ability to power all of the cooking needs for a village of 50-75 people, roughly the size of our on-campus community.  As a benefit to the community, we reduce the amount of glycerol that goes unused, reduce septic waste, and get a nice pathogen-free fertilizer which helps plants grow faster.

Swimming with Sharks

16th April, 2011

“I need you to keep watch and if any sharks come close, punch them in the nose,” said Chris Maxey, moments before we entered the shark-filled waters of the Cape Eleuthera Resort and Marina at Powell Point.  The MoonShadow, an Island School boat that can be used for advisory trips or an afternoon at sea, was in desperate need of a bottom cleaning.  Since I generally jump at the chance to try something new, and especially when it involves swimming in the ocean, I volunteered to accompany him.

According to the Island School handbook, no one is allowed to swim in the marina at any time.  The primary reason is that boats come in from a day out packed with fish.  Red snapper and grouper are the more common catches.  There are filleting stations located around the perimeter overlooking the water.  As each fish is being gutted, cleaned, and filleted, the scraps are tossed into the water, creating a feeding frenzy among the sharks which have pooled in the area in anticipation of an easy meal. 

The MoonShadow is only 30 feet from one of these stations and anything hitting the water immediately draws the curiosity of the waiting sharks.  After the bubbles cleared it only took 30 seconds before a strong, sleek nurse shark came cruising by.  My best guess would be 7 feet long, weighing in at over 500 pounds.  This shark was followed soon after by two remoras, a species similar to a dolphin, but much smaller and with more of a bluish hue than grey.  After the initial trepidation of having a shark appear out of nowhere and come bother me, I set about completing the task at hand.  I did a number of spins underneath the water to make sure that I was aware of everything that was swimming by.

With a blue bottom, it was tough to see the algae growth along the bottom of the MoonShadow.  Taking the scrub brush to the underside of the hull resulted in a plume of blue paint exploding forth and creating a murky haze which drifted easterly along with the flooding current.  Becoming more comfortable, both with the concept of sharks in the vicinity and the job of diving below the surface to clean a keel with a draft of 5 feet, I began taking extended trips underneath the waves.  At one point, out of the green light made cloudy by paint, I could identify 4 nurse sharks ranging anywhere from 12 feet away up to 30 feet out.

One shark became so curious as to rub along the underside of the keel.  Moving at a leisurely pace where Chris and I could watch the approach, Chris reached down and grabbed the tail fin of the passing nurse shark.  At that point, the shark become so rattled it sped off into the deep.  I too became rattled as I would never have thought to toy with a 600 pound unpredictable creature in its natural habitat.  We quickly finished the hull and I began working on the boot stripe as Chris powered his way through cleaning the propeller and rudder section at the stern. 

While focusing at one spot along the bow, I noticed three curious sharks approaching with menacing looks on their faces.  I could not tell if they were hungry, just cruising, moving with the tide, or actually coming in for a meal.  Luckily, we both were able to clamber aboard using the step ladder attached to the stern before either of use became feed.  Also, fortunate for our purposes of minimizing risk, a large fishing vessel came into the marina and began unloading its fresh catch not 10 minutes after we had emerged from the water.  We were able to get out of the water before the scene got active with chum.

As I mentioned to some of the on-lookers who were taking pictures, it was a once in a lifetime experience, and I’m glad it is over now.

Lobstering

After two miles of bike riding, the last thing I wanted to do was to walk for and extra quarter mile over sharp, stabbing limestone with poisonwood on my left and an ocean blasting spray up over my head on the right.  Numerous blowholes rumbled underfoot, surging and draining with each wave.  This area is tricky to navigate under the best circumstances, but adding to the difficulty was a bag of dive gear and two spears.  Each step had to be carefully placed to avoid an off-balance landing that would certainly result in a puncture. 

Actually entering the water proved to as challenging as getting to the point of departure.  Timing the waves in such a way that the force pushing towards the rock occurs while in the air, so the ebb away will draw you into the ocean current took a few moments to become acquainted with.  Not knowing how deep it was also proved to be a factor in the jumping process.  And finally, controlling the spear and goggles made hitting the water a frightening experience.

Our spot is about 200 meters offshore, which is perfect, since Bahamian law stipulates that all fishing must be conducted at the distance or greater from the coastline.  Swimming out there with a decent swell and strong current was difficult.  Since I didn’t have fins or a snorkel, I had to frog kick out with one arm doing a freestyle pull.  It was the easiest way I could find to make progress, but it was by no means fast. 

The Caribbean Spiny Lobster doesn’t look a lot like their counterparts from Maine.  They have extremely long antennae and no front claws.  Most of the meat comes from the tail, and if you have eaten at Red Lobster in the past 5 years, there is a pretty good chance that those tails came from Eleuthera.  Another interesting feature of the lobster is that the antennae can rub against the skull to create a clicking sound.  This warns off potential predators and is very interesting to hear in person.

Setting up on top of the rock, I let Matt show me what to look for and the proper way to spear.  By moving up current from the target, energy can be saved that would better be used searching for prey.  Coming into the shot, draw back the spear against the rubber holder to increase tension, aim, and fire.  Aiming underwater is difficult as many factors can affect the accuracy.  Wave action overhead, current, breath control, and the animal itself all determine if the shot will be a success.

Matt began the session by finding a target and chasing him around the rock.  The lobster went into a crevice that could only be accessed by one opening from above.  The spear could fit through, and the lobster could make it, but together, they could not.  After Matt got his shot in and hooked it on, I came around to make sure that if the lobster wriggled off the end of his spear, I would be there to recapture it.  As Matt forced the lobster up and out of its hole, it slid off the end of the spear, but not before separating the carapace from the tail.  We went down to pick up the tail and Matt cleaned it out, putting it into the mesh bag we were using as storage.

After a few minutes of regaining composure and basking in the thrill of the chase, it was my turn to find a lobster and take it home.  At first, I thought that the long protruding antenna coming out from underneath the rock was a stingray.  When I dove the 5 feet to the bottom to inspect, I had the wonderful surprise of seeing a lobster staring me in the face.  Matt dove down to take a look, but he said that this one was all mine.  Setting up so that I could float in with the current and draw my spear, I took a deep breath and made for the overhang.  My first attempt missed, but the adrenaline was pumping through my veins.  I stayed directly above the spot where the lobster lay hiding, took a quick breath, and made my way down again.  This time, the spear hit with precision, however it did not go all the way through the body.  As I pulled the spear out of the hole and back towards the surface, the lobster came out into the open and fell to the floor of the ocean.  Lying on its back and completely vulnerable, the lobster had no chance as I went in for the final kill.