What can I say -- things are so busy these days I was even considering not visiting family this Christmas...
So, in the mean time, here's some interesting reading on the search for Steve Fossett, and here's a bit of a scary video on why maybe you don't want more stuff this Christmas.
Recently, I've read several claims that we don't need to believe the planet is warming because this winter is going to be one of the coldest winters that Canada has seen in some time. While this logic is intuitive at first, I find myself using the same piece of information to support the opposite hypothesis, namely that climate change is upon us. Why? Simply put, my expectation of climate change is that in addition to warmer weather, we will also see more cold winters.
As anyone's life experience tells them, weather is variable. It changes from hour to hour, from day to day, from season to season, and so on. If somebody records the temperature every day for years and years and years, and looks at the temperature on (for example) September 22nd every year for century, then they will find that on average the temperature was 17 degrees, but that sometimes it was warmer -- as much as 25 -- and sometimes it was colder -- as cold as 5. (I've pulled these numbers out of a hat for demonstration purposes.) If that same person made a table of all the recorded temperatures, looked at how often a given temperature showed up, and graphed the result, then it might look like this:
If you gave this information to a statistician, they would try to fit what's called a distribution model to those temperature data, giving something like this:
The model here is a normal distribution, which is like the "Bell curve" teachers might use to adjust grades in a class. In reality, the temperature distributions would not be normal like this; they would have a more complicated statistical distrution. For now, let's just assume that this distribution is good enough, so that I can demonstrate my point.
Now, suppose the climate at our weather station changes. Things get warmer, and more "energy" is put into the weather system. If we do the same study, our new graph might look like this:
It looks pretty similar, but if you look carefully, we can compare the modeled distributions for the two sets of data:
Now we can start to see the effects of the changed climate. The average temperature is higher, there are a lot more really hot days, and also a few more really cold days. It wouldn't be hard to imagine a situation with a lot more hot days and a lot more cold days.
So how do we know that the climate is changing? Statisticians have this trick in their toolbox called extremal analysis. Basically, they use fancy mathematics to determine how often we're going to get those low-frequency events, or extreme events, when we don't have time to wait for them to happen. In addition to a warming "average planet", researchers are seeing more extreme events. There are more hot days, more cold days, more hurricanes, more droughts, more floods, more ice storms, etc., etc. Their findings suggest that the weather systems are experiencing a shift like the one we have just described in the example above. Hence, just because this winter is going to be a cold one, it is not a reason to denounce climate change.
Back on land.
Back on sturdy land.
Back on sturdy land that doesn't rock.
Well, sort of. It took a bit of time for my brain to catch on to the fact that things weren't rocking anymore. When I awoke after my first night back on terra firma, I could feel the rising and falling of the room. In the shower that morning I turned sideways to brace myself, the shower was rocking back and forth. It was my first ever case of the "dock rocks", a term I've heard many times but could not find on in my 45 second search of the internet. Basically, it's the sensation that things are still rocking even though you're back on land.
The trip itself was a good one. The first few days were tough, but on the morning that I had to start working, the seas got a little bit calmer and my queasiness subsided. That meant I could enjoy a glass of water, or a coffee, or some juice, and that I could focus on my work. For the first time ever, I got over sea sickness before getting off a ship. Woo.
Off for an adventure chasing eddies. Back in two weeks. You can follow the action live at this site.
Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration. At least you'll know where I am, though. Which is probably more than I'll be able to say as the sea reminds me why I shouldn't be a field oceanographer.
Things have been slow around here. Well, by here, I mean this little blog. Things have been rather haphazard in the real world. Between school and SAR and wedding planning and post-school planning, there hasn't been much time to write anything. Well, really, there just hasn't been much inspiration to write anything worth reading. I've been thinking about this waves, and rings, and eddies, and a few other things which, in a twisted context, include this guy (or gal): 
A quick note to fill in a few blanks from last week's post. First, I am getting back to my normal self as the emotional strain from last week is releasing itself.
The search was one of the roughest I've experienced. Looking for two teenagers, suspecting the worst while hoping it is only a prank, has its toll. In addition, it was a high-profile search: our staging area was swarming with media, family, friends, and curious onlookers. It was also my first time being involved in the management side of a real search. On Wednesday, I was on site from 4:30 am until 10:45 pm, dealing with search management issues.
Throughout my years working on the search team, I have learnt that I am often proficient at blocking out emotions during these events. This allows me to think and act calmly. Essentially, I hide in an objective "shell" and guard myself from emotions during the event. Though I hate to say it in such cold language, it can almost feel like I am playing a game at times. In many ways, this is an advantage for the lost person. While it does not remove the sense of urgency from the event, it allows for clear thinking and (hopefully) sound judgement. A sense of responsibility, rather than one of frantic compassion, ensures thoroughness and efficiency of one's actions. I believe that this response is enhanced by the training. Having practised what to do, over and over, one's mind is able to focus on the actual doing.
When the search is over, however, the reality of the outcome -- especially if it is a negative one -- begins to percolate into my thinking. Last week, instead of slowly removing my protective shell, it was smashed violently by the reality around me. Suddenly it was over. Family and friends, dozens of them, were consoling each other in front of the media and other onlookers. The fire department had counsellors helping them handle their grief. Paramedics were present, monitoring those who were responding to the news more traumatically. Onlookers gathered to watch the body bags be transferred from the boats to the trucks. The medical examiner was milling around in search of the that site, since it was at a different location than the staging area of the search. I found myself watching all this, walking around, wanting to help, but knowing that there were trained and qualified people already doing that, and realizing that I would be in the way. I did not want to stare, but I did not want to do nothing either. There was still plenty to do on site, however, and it did not take long for a fury activity to return to the site. As it turned out, it was not until about 3 hours after the conclusion that I got home, was able to stop, and shed my first tear.
That brief pause that I took to look around me, however, the snap-shot of hysteria and realization, still engulfs for brief moments. In the last few days, it has been the processing of those images that has occupied my thoughts. The hard part is knowing not to ignore these impulses of emotion, and to deal with them and talk about them. For this, I am express immeasureable gratitude to Allie, without whom such traumatic events would be too much to handle.
...
Today, after having had a few days to consider what happened, I am starting to feel better. The search community, which included the fire department, the police department (both municipal and federal), the Department of Natural Resources, and volunteer search teams from across the province, performed exceptionally well together. Everybody was concerned and wanted to find the missing teenagers, nobody was doing anything for their ego. We did the best we could and gave all we could, which made the initial internal response harsh. Everyone is aware, however, that there is nothing we could have done to change the outcome. This was a traumatic event for two families, a community of young individuals, and local society, and we did what we could to alleviate that trauma.
The funerals for the two boys will be held today. While I cannot attend, I will be thinking of them, their family, and their peers.
