Day 2
Sampling

Gaby Gorsky, an oceanographer at Villefranche, is in a very good shape; this morning: "we'll do things of an overwhelming beauty, and it is for the good of mankind."
What is exiting with enthusiasm so much Gaby Gorsky, our Czech scientist coordinator, is the CTD probe test. This device, which looks like two pipes in a metal frame with a sensor like a big round eye, measures the water temperature, its depth, and its conductivity.

Why conductivity? Well, I spoke to you yesterday about salinity, a key parameter in climatology... Today we shall climb another notch in the complexity of the explanation!
We know that the conductivity of fresh water is very poor, and that the more water is salty, the more it is conductive. The CTD probe then measures the spreading out of electricity between two electrodes to determine how much salty is the water.
At the end of the procedure, the collected data will feed the huge tables for calculating the world’s climate forecasting.

For this day of testing, we shall limit ourselves to a depth of 400 meters to make sure that everything works. The probe is lowered using Tara’s winch, ballasted down with heavy weights.

Day 3
The large metal coconut tree

I’ve climbed on top of Tara’s mast!
Forgive me, my enthusiastic scientist and valiant sailor colleagues, but this page of the logbook will be devoted to us, the journalists of the seven seas!
Christopher Castagne, the expedition’s camera operator preceded me in climbing to the crow's nest. Without hesitation and properly harnessed, he climbed up the mast to shoot the boat from above.

Seeing Christophe come down with a light pink and cool countenance, I immediately asked skipper Hervé if I could imitate him. He smiled. The others instead laughed outright when I put on my deck trousers and my watch jacket... well yes, it will be cold up there!
I started my climb, secured through a harness connected to Samuel, the skipper’s mate. He made it clear that he was not there to pull me up, but only for safety issues,...
Tara’s mast is equipped with aluminium rungs spaced at a distance of a man’s arms and legs, not for a 1.60-meter tall girl. I had to cling to anything that came under the foot or under the hand: spreader, radar, satellite antenna dish... Hervé Le Goff almost ate his whiskers.

The wind blows at 18 knots. Above all, do not look down, do not slow down either, or you will weaken. Instead, I look up, persuaded to have reached the top, but I am only half-way up this cursed crow's nest. The boat lurches over the waves and I am being shaken on my big coconut tree. (I must remember to wait several months before telling this experience to my mother...)

Finally, here I am at a height of 24 meters. I secure a first buttock on the plank of the crow's nest. I secure the second one too! I lift myself through the bars of the cage and I finally dare have a look under my feet. I am a bit dazzled by the white belly of the whale and its sails, which contrasts with the dark blue of the sea. I take out my camera with extreme care and I frame almost anything with the only concern not to let it fall 20 meters below. Phew! I crouch in my watch to catch my breath. I retry a volley of shots, somewhat steadier, this time.
No need to wait for the wind to strengthen up. "Sam, let me down!"

Sacha Bollet