Captain Kent Sheasley, relief chief mate Derek Bergeron, and second mate Jen Hickey (left to right) learn the ins and outs of their new ship so more scientists can get out on the ocean. (Photo by Ken Kostel, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution)

Building a ship like Neil Armstrong and its sister ship Sally Ride is not cheap, but compared to what they will give us over the next 40 or 50 years in terms of knowledge about the ocean, they will almost certainly pay for themselves many times over.

The ocean sustains us. It makes Earth livable and makes life as we know it possible. It harbors the greatest diversity and abundance of life on our planet and it is the single largest living space that we know of. Anywhere. Oceans on one of the moons of Jupiter or Saturn may eventually prove to be larger or richer and more biodiverse, but right now the ocean that covers more than two-thirds of Earth is the only one we know of in the solar system—and it is the one that defines our planet and our existence.

When you look out over the ocean, that unbroken horizon and the relative sameness of that surface hide a complex world that borders on the fanciful. The seafloor is a vast terrain more spectacular than almost anything on dry land. There are peaks higher than Everest, mountain ranges longer and more rugged than the Andes, fissures deeper and more awe-inspiring than the Grand Canyon, and plains that could swallow the Sahara.

But in many respects those are tourist attractions (with a nod to the geophysicists and the forces that created the topography.) The ocean is also teeming with life, from shallow coral reefs to the sediments beneath the deepest trenches. Some of it provides us with food, and for nearly one billion people on the planet – many of whom live in developing countries – seafood is a primary source of their daily protein. Smaller and less charismatic organisms, marine algae, produce as much or more oxygen than all of the forests on land combined. Think of them the next time you take a breath. Marine microbes, many of which have yet to be named or understood and some of which hold the potential for novel materials or life-saving drugs, are more abundant than stars in the known universe.

And yet, for all its importance to us and to every other living thing we know of and to almost every planetary system that helps make Earth livable, we know remarkably little about what goes on at or beneath the ocean surface, let alone how human activity is beginning to alter the way it works. That’s not to say that we don’t know anything. In fact, we know quite a lot, which is a testament to what can happen when curious, motivated scientists and engineers have the opportunity to go to sea. But research ships are scarce and ship time for scientists woefully short to fill the gap between what we know and what we need to know. And that gap only seems to widen every time we learn something new.

One thing that has become abundantly clear in recent years is that the ocean is changing. Humans have long seen the ocean as virtually limitless and untouchable and so have used it as a dumping ground for waste and refuse. The impacts that resulted were relatively confined, but now the changes we see span the globe and echo throughout the water column. Surface water is getting warmer as a direct result of humans burning more fossil fuels and pumping more heat-trapping carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. As a result, individual species and entire ecosystems are rearranging themselves, not always successfully. Precipitation patterns and other elements of the climate that dictated how and where humans settled on land are also reshuffling in response to the physical changes we’re forcing on the ocean. And now the ocean’s very chemistry is also changing, growing more acidic, again as a direct result of the increase in carbon dioxide in the atmosphere and with any number of potential impacts on marine ecosystems—none of them good.

To study the ocean—to understand how it works, how we are changing it, and how those changes are likely to affect us in turn—we need ships like Armstrong and people to go to sea on them. We need to put our instruments in the water, take samples, make measurements, and to do it all again next year. Or next season. Or tomorrow.

That is why we build ships like this one. And why we need more of them.

Neil A. Armstrong (Photo courtesy of NASA)

As this entry is being posted, we are leaving the dock in Anacortes. There is no science on the cruise. Instead, the focus of this trip is the ship itself. The crew and back-up crew will use the time to get used to the ship’s systems and to working together again after almost a year on shore. We will also be running the winches out and in again under load to make sure they are operating correctly (more on this later).

In 2010, when the U.S. Navy formally awarded WHOI operation of what was then known as AGOR 27, this ship was just a set of drawings. Then construction began in Anacortes and it slowly assumed a ship-like shape. Then it got a name: Neil Armstrong. And finally, in 2014, the hull first touched water. Today, it heads to open water for the first time. Today, it becomes an ocean-going vessel.

A few have questioned the logic of naming a research vessel after an astronaut. Let’s put those questions to rest. In addition to being the first man to walk on the moon, Armstrong was also a Navy pilot—and the U.S. Navy owns this ship. But they named the sister ship after the shuttle astronaut Sally Ride, so the reason behind the choice is more complex than just a desire to honor one of their own.

(Photo courtesy of NASA)

Both Armstrong and Ride chose their paths partly out of a desire to challenge themselves, to explore, to learn, and to serve as an example to anyone who might choose to follow. There isn’t much more that gets at the heart of what drives the scientists and students who look to the ocean for answers to some very fundamental questions about how our planet works and how it is able to sustain life.

For the next half century, this ship will be the base from which generations of researchers will work to expand our knowledge about the ocean. There will almost certainly be advances over the coming decades that will allow scientists to do more of their work from shore. Autonomous vehicles, large mooring arrays, and new satellite-based sensors s are becoming more sophisticated and commonplace every year. It’s also expensive and occasionally dangerous to go to sea, but the rewards, in the form of a better appreciation for our planet and our place on it, are invaluable. But as Armstrong taught us with that first small step off the ladder onto the surface of the moon, there is very often no replacement for a human presence at the edge of what is known and a human voice to tell us what is there.

Technicians Chris Griner and Amy Simoneau prepare the ship's CTD for winch tests in deep water. (Photo by Ken Kostel, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution)

Knorr has had a long history of owls hitching rides far from shore—a tradition that Armstrong continued on its second day from port. (Photo by Ken Kostel, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution)

Day two brought better weather, something the crew never seems to tire of. (Photo by Ken Kostel, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution)

The first day out from Anacortes gave the crew a chance to learn how their new home took the weather. (Photo by Ken Kostel, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution)

Armstrong captain Kent Sheasley eases Armstrong away from shore. (Photo by Ken Kostel, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution)

Third mate Josh Woodrow and WHOI port engineer Hank Ayers cast off with a little help from a group of Anacortes residents. (Photo by Ken Kostel, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution)

Several residents from Anacortes came down to the dock to see Neil Armstrong depart. (Photo by Ken Kostel, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution)

Departure from Anacortes, Wash., marked the beginning of Neil Armstrong’s maiden voyage and, for the crew, a return to the rhythms of life at sea, plus a surprise guest.

[NOTE: This post was written Friday and posted Saturday]

Armstrong at Curtis Wharf in Anacortes with one day until sailing. (Photo by Ken Kostel, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution)

One day until we sail and there is still a lot to do, from the technical to the mundane. Technicians with the Shipboard Scientific Services Group are still running cable and setting up the science work areas. The docking collar on the crane that handles the CTD rosette has to be attached. The ship needs to be ballasted. And the trash has to be taken out.

It’s a long list, but not insurmountable and, one way or another, we’re leaving. Barring any major problems, at 3:30 p.m. Pacific Saturday, we will cast off and Armstrong will begin its trip home to Woods Hole. This will undoubtedly be a late night and an early morning, but this crew, which came almost entirely from R/V Knorr, has a reputation for getting things done. They take pride in that fact and those of us who do not have official duties take solace in it.

Assembling chairs, because someone has to. (Photo by Ken Kostel, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution)

There is no science planned between here and the first shipyard period where Armstrong will receive the bulk of its scientific gear, so most of the urgency is at least partly driven by a sailor’s desire to see things are put right before setting sail. For that reason, one of the most important things to happen before we leave will be to make sure that anything moveable is tied down. That task becomes even more critical whenever we look at the printout of the marine forecast that’s posted on the wall outside the ship’s library. It’s not looking good. No one is worried, but no one has ridden Armstrong out of the channel yet, so we don’t know how it will ride.

And there’s only one way to find out.

The first of many modules that eventually became R/V Neil Armstrong. (Photo by Gary McGrath, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution)

In just a few days, R/V Neil Armstrong will begin the first of four legs in its trip to the East Coast. On October 31, it will leave Anacortes, Wash., and head south to San Francisco. From there it will continue down the coast to the Panama Canal, transit the canal, and then turn north to an as-yet unnamed shipyard, where it will complete its fitting-out and to conduct a series of science verification cruises to test its ability to support ocean-going research. A fifth leg in the spring of 2016 will take it from the shipyard to its eventual home in Woods Hole.

Time is a funny thing, as anyone who once held a newborn, only to turn around and find themselves driving away from a college campus with an empty car. Back in 2010, when WHOI was selected to operate what was then known as AGOR (Auxiliary General Purpose Oceanographic Research Vessel) 27, and even as recently as September, when signatures were still drying on the paperwork transferring Armstrong to WHOI, the date of departure seemed impossibly far away. Now time is moving like a juggernaut, and the crew is busy completing a long list of final tasks before departure.

The newly completed Armstrong stretching its sea legs in the channel near Anacortes. (Photo by Mark Spear, ©Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution)

Last week, the ship passed its Coast Guard safety audit, a key milestone in certifying its readiness for sea. But in reality, there have been many milestones over the past four years it spent taking shape in the friendly confines and waters of Anacortes and when these final tasks are complete, it will be time to leave and time to begin looking forward to its future carrying scientists and engineers from around the world in their quest to understand more about the ocean. Like its namesake, R/V Neil Armstrong will make many small steps and hopefully just as many giant leaps over what is likely to be a 40-year career of exploration and discovery.

On the way to San Francisco, the ship will stop so the crew can test the oceanographic winches—a task that requires deep water, something that’s easy to find in the canyons and trenches off the West Coast of North America. We will try to post along the way (satellite connectivity willing) to give you an look at Armstrong‘s voyage home and an inside view of the nation’s newest tool to understand our global ocean and the many ways it sustains life here on Earth.