Temp: 33 F Weather: Cloudy, 12-18 foot seas, 35 to 45 knot winds

Our welcome back to the Chukchi Sea is not so welcoming. A major storm system has moved up from the Bering Sea across the Chukotka Peninsula in Russia and into the Chukchi. As we pass by Icy Cape and Ledyard Bay, gale force winds are howling at 35 to 45 knots, and the 12-16 foot swells are topped by 2 to 4 foot wind waves, creating the occasional 20 footer crashing into the ship.

(Photo: The Healy hits the roughest waters of the voyage!)

Follow the Healy's journey home on this map.

We've slowed to 8 knots to minimize damage to the ship, and cancelled the mooring recovery, which would necessitate launching a small boat in these conditions. It's one of those days where you just lay down, dizzy in your bunk, and wait for time to pass because that's all you can do. There have been a few of these days on the trip, although today is the worst so far. Tomorrow is forecasted to be a better day.

Today it has been 11 days since I have seen land, which I did not like at first, but now I think I do, so long as the weather cooperates. When the winds pick up and the ship is creaking and shuddering, I picture myself back at home in my yard hugging a huge clump of dirt! Last night I had a dream that we pulled over at the village of Wales and stopped at a convenience store, and I reached down and touched the ground, exclaiming "I'm on land!"

The Arctic Ocean is majestic, wild, and amazing, but I don't think it's ever been described as hospitable. In writing this blog, I've tried to give readers a sense of ship life, the diversity of activities that happen aboard a 420-foot vessel, a sense of the seascape, the natural history, and the excitement of new experiences. And in doing so, I've glossed over the tribulations of this life. My general attitude toward things is not to dwell on hardship, but I also think it is important to acknowledge the reality of it and today's rough seas encouraged me to give some space in today's blog post to the more grueling side.

This entire journey has been very special to me, but also very challenging. The free time I thought I'd have to write papers or read books has been replaced with naps to abate sea sickness or board games to avoid cabin fever. We work a schedule that is a couple hours on, an hour or two off, which means that things are frequently interrupted. The breaks between work are for meals, a daily trip to the gym, writing, data entry, necessary resting, or checking three email accounts on very slow internet. And after that's all done, I fit in reading or playing games, or getting extra sleep. It is amazing how tired the constant motion makes you, how it drains your mind and body of energy, and even changes your mind into a different state. There are no weekends, each day is the same routine, and the dark gray days start to run together; I've appreciated the routine of ship life, but then there are days when it just plain wears you out. Overall though, the not-often-encountered combination of confinement and adventure is an odd contrast, but good.

I intend to take all of my new knowledge of this place and apply it to my work with my colleagues back at Audubon to do the best job we can at understanding and caring for the Arctic. For me, it's hard earned, but as my former supervisor John Schoen used to say, "These kinds of experiences pay dividends for a lifetime."

Melanie Smith, Landscape Ecologist, Audubon Alaska