Exploring Attu’s Underwater Battlefield and Offshore Environment
Reflections from a Liminal Space: In Transit to the Fieldsite
As I sit here at the long mess table, amongst the busy laptops, it has suddenly dawned on me that I am, indeed, sitting at a 14-person table… on a redesigned commercial king crab boat… in the middle of the Ring of Fire’s northern arc. This feels different than my previous trips out to the Aleutians. There is internet (a much welcomed first), more space to move about, the beeps and chirps of new technology, more people, and a bit more diversity (in disciplines, in skills, in language). Some things, though, have been reliably predictable: the hurry-up-and-wait, the swell, the disappearance of faces due to the swell, the excitement of anticipating discovery and things-never-seen-before, the windchill and wetness on deck, the island-blocking fog, and the chef-prepared meals that outshine your normal diet.
It takes a few days to reach the western Aleutian Islands by boat; a few eternal days of liminality. The field research hasn’t truly begun since we have yet to reach our destination, but we’re technically already “in the field.” Some of us pass the time by sleeping, some by working, some read, some double and triple check equipment, some tweak contingency plans.
The R/V Norseman is chugging across the Bering Sea at an average of 8 knots. Standing on the work deck, watching the seabirds glide just above the water alongside us, I can’t help but think about the Unangax̂. Masters of the sea, Unangax̂ seafarers may have beat us to our destination. Just like the seabirds, iqyax̂ (Unangax̂ kayaks) could glide across the water at speeds equivalent to between 5.7 and 9.7 knots.
In my experience, existing in the space between present and future out here is a bit surreal. Volcanoes periodically peak through the fog, commanding the immediate attention of everyone on board. Swells periodically knock over drinks, whales periodically mark their presence with spouts, and the chef periodically provides surprise snacks; all of which, also command immediate attention. There will be a flurry of determined and serious research activity once we reach our destination. But until then, we continue to try and distract ourselves from the rough seas and fog, welcoming those fleeting moments of periodic alertness. I wonder how the Unangax̂ felt while navigating these very same waters. I imagine that for them, experiencing liminality did not come from waiting for time to pass at sea. With their iqyax̂, it came from existing in the space between the world of seabirds and the world of marine mammals. Being at sea wasn’t something that needed to pass before you could get back to regular life, it was life.
By Bobbi Hornbeck, Ph.D.
Published October 25, 2024