By
Olivia Leigh Campbell
Jamaica Observer
Kingston/Caribbean
sea
Petroleumworld.com
02 26 06
AFTER
a few days at sea, time aboard the oil and gas exploration ship
offshore the south coast becomes a blur. The days are filled
with work, the nights with cards, some conversation, and perhaps
a movie, then enough rest to recharge the body to get back to
work again.
That's
more or less the routine on the Akademik Shatskiy, the Russian
vessel from which Fugro's team of scientists and engineers are
conducting a seismic survey, collecting geo-physical data in
the hunt for oil some 8 to 10 kilometres offshore Jamaica's
waters.
The Akademik Shatskiy, the Russian vessel contracted by Fugro
to conduct seismic survey research in Jamaica's coastal waters.
(Photo: Nick Roterman)
Fugro,
a Dutch company said to be one of the world's largest seismic
survey companies, has been hired by Australians Finder Exploration
PTY of Australia to survey the coast in search of fossil fuel.
Finder,
which is financing the surveys under licence from Jamaica, is
essentially taking a US$3 million bet that its assigned exploration
blocks - 7, 10, 11 and 12 off the Pedro Banks- will show strong
repositories of 'black gold' and natural gas.
Fugro
plans to be at sea for six weeks, extending into March. But
will have about six months to analyse the data collected.
The Sunday Observer is along for the ride for five days of the
first week, arriving onboard Shatskiy Friday, February 17, to
see close up how the process works.
Akademik Shatskiy party chief D'mitry Suglobov (left) and chief
mate Yuri Belyaev arrive at the Pedro Cays for a meeting with
local fisher folk to discuss the implications of seismic survey
activities on the local fishing community. (Photo: PCJ)
Already,
the crew expects that the initial plan may have to be readjusted.
"In this business, you have to expect the unexpected, because
everyday something new may come up," says Scott McPherson
an independent consultant who represents Fugro on the vessel.
"It
can be the weather, equipment - you never know when you have
to change your plans like that," he added, snapping his
fingers for emphasis.
The
Shatskiy has two 'crews': the crew navigating the ship and maintaining
its equipment; and a seismic team of scientists, the client
representatives and independent observers, none of them Jamaicans
whose agencies are yet to name their representatives.
Scott McPherson, representative of Fugro, in discussion with
Sunday Observer reporter Olivia Leigh Campbell. (Photo: PCJ)
Altogether,
there are 45 persons onboard, only two of them women - some
collecting data, others monitoring the collectors, and some
watching over the marine animals for their protection.
The ship's crew is overwhelmingly Russian - the vessel is registered
in Murmansk, one of Russia's most northerly ports.
But
the seismic crew is an international blend, comprising members
from other parts of Europe, including the United Kingdom and
Scandinavia, and the United States.
The
ship is on 24-hour watch. The crew does 12-hour shifts, but
the seismic team works only when a survey is underway, leaving
its members with a good deal of down time.
"I've
been on ships where you have internet access, where the quarters
are palatial, where you even have satellite TV and a spa. So
compared to others I suppose this ship is kind of dated, but
all things considered it's okay," says Greg Kummery, a
member of the seismic crew.
"I
mean, the Shatskiy's got email and a satellite phone, so you
can keep in touch, and if you travel with your movies and DVDs
you can keep yourself occupied when you're not working."
Work is technically defined as a 2-D seismic, gravity and magnetic
survey, the results of which will reveal a two-dimensional view
of the ocean sub-strata.
Basically,
the survey ship sails along a straight line, towing a 'streamer'
- an 8-kilometre long fibre optic cable containing hundreds
of ultra-sensitive listening devices called hydrophones.
The
cable, which is unwound from a massive reel in the ship's hold,
is floated 6 metres below the water surface, and kept on a straight
line course by 'birds', a series of sensors that prevent it
from swaying too much with the ocean currents.
"We
sail along straight lines in a grid pattern to get a continuous
view of what's beneath, because we need a precise record of
where the various anomalies are so that when the data is processed,
if we come across anything that looks interesting we can know
exactly where that spot is," said McPherson.
The
data acquisition process actually starts with measures to mitigate
any effect the operations will have on marine life, particularly
on marine mammals.
If
the survey is being started during the day, either of the ship's
two independent Marine Mammal Observers (MMOs) - the only persons
onboard other than the captain who can call a halt to operations
- climb to the crow's nest, the highest point on the ship, and
peer for hours through binoculars to see if they can spot sea
turtles, whales or dolphins.
"It's
low-tech, but effective, because whales and dolphins have to
come to the water's surface for air, and when they do, they
stay there long enough for us to see them," explains Nick
Roterman, who is contracted by ECOS, an environmental consulting
firm based in Florida.
If
the survey begins at night, the MMOs lower a Passive Acoustic
Monitoring device into the water half-hour before operations
begin, and compare the sounds they record in the sea with files
of recorded whale 'songs' to tell if there are any of the mammals
in the area.
The
MMOs say they're not so worried about dolphins as they are whales,
since dolphins, which communicate using high frequency pitches,
don't seem to be too troubled by the sound.
Dolphins actually seem to like it, and the Sunday Observer witnesses
a small school frolicking about the ship's bow while the survey
is in progress.
Whales,
on the other hand, use low-frequency sounds, and no one knows
definitively if or how the sounds from the survey affect them.
To protect any whales that may be present, the ship uses a 'soft
ramp up' process, graduating slowly from small to large blasts
over a 40-minute period.
During
that time, they say, any whales that find the sound unbearable
will vacate the area to escape the noise.
When
it's time to begin acquiring the data, Fugro scientists send
sound pulses into the seabed using an air source array - several
'guns' that release bolts of compressed air at exactly the same
time.
It's important, says McPherson, that the guns fire at exactly
the same time, because even a milli-second out of sync can taint
the data completely, nullifying the survey.
The
guns look like air compressors and are strung by large metal
chains to a floating buoy.
For this survey, the Shatskiy will use 20 guns, arranged in
a four-six-six-four formation and hung in the water one metre
above the streamer, about five metres below the water's surface.
The
guns are launched from the back of the ship by the deck hands,
and the whole process of putting the equipment into the water,
takes hours, but is fascinating to watch.
Within
the ship's hold, a steamy factory-like space where hard hats,
overalls and safety boots are standard issue, the deck hands
literally shove the heavy equipment into the water behind the
ship, which is constantly moving forward at several knots.
Warning
lights are flashing everywhere, and at times the hands have
to harness themselves to the ship to avoid being tossed out
into the ominous waters.
It's
a dangerous job that requires skill, sharp wits and sheer brute
force, and at times, when the sea swells rise and the ship is
tossed among the waves, the danger of the job becomes terrifyingly
apparent.
That,
however, doesn't seem to be a problem for the Shatskiy's crew.
"These guys, they don't worry about the danger. They've
got all the safety equipment... life vests, safety boots with
the steel toes, and whenever they have to work close to the
edge they put on the harness," explains the Shatskiy's
party chief, D'mitry Suglobov.
It
helps, too, that they're brave, to the point of insanity.
"They don't care at all ... they're Russian," offered
Suglobov by way of explanation.
The
'guns' direct the blasts of compressed air straight downwards,
and although up to 2,000 pounds per square inch are released
every 20 or so seconds, the same sound that causes major sound
pulses through the rocks can barely be heard above the waterline.
In
fact, from above, the only indication of activity below water
is a swath of air bubbles rising behind the ship's stern.
The sound pulses, which are powerful enough to penetrate up
to 10 km below the sea floor, are reflected by the various rock
layers beneath the seabed.
The
rate at which the sound pulses are reflected indicates the type
of rock present - harder rocks reflect the sound sharply, while
soft material such as sand or mud tends to absorb most of the
energy, and by studying the reflections, scientists can determine
where there is likely to be deposits of fuels.
The
reflections are recorded by the 636 hydrophones in the 'streamer'
and transmitted to the ship's instrument room, where a gaggle
of geologists oversee dozens of brightly-lit computer screens.
There,
charted on huge reams of paper, the sound reflections are printed,
each 'boom' recorded in a graph that to the untrained eye looks
only like waves and squiggly lines.
Major
processing of data does not happen onboard, but rather takes
place back at the onshore seismic centre, in this case one of
the Fugro processing centres in either Texas or Australia.
But back to down time.
On
sunny afternoons, sunbathers straggle onto the ship's helipad,
sporting hairy, bright white bellies and Speedo trunks.
Some walk or jog circles around the helicopter landing pad for
exercise, eschewing the ship's outdated gym equipment in favour
of tropical air.
At night, its cards, board games, or DVDs.
Meals
are served promptly at 7:30 am, 11:30 am and 5:30 pm, and all
routines are strictly enforced.
On
a ship at sea for weeks, explained one member of the seismic
crew, there's no room for ego or slackers, and everyone has
to be responsible for making sure his work gets done, and done
right.
That means being on time, and following all the rules for work
and safety, including mandatory participation in drills.
On
board the Shatskiy, there is a total ban on drugs and alcohol,
so until the ship pulls into port, O'Douls non-alcoholic beer
and fruit juice is the closest anyone comes to anything with
fermentation.
"We take safety seriously, and these rules are necessary
to make sure that operations run smoothly," said McPherson.
"Some
people say it's better to have drills at random times, but here,
we figure if we have the drill at the same time each week, when
an alarm does go off at any other time everyone will know its
the real deal."
campbello@jamaicaobserver.com
