As we approach the end of the cruise, I think this calls for a round of salty Langseth limericks. It helps if you imagine a round of hearty “Aye, matey!” and “Arr!” and such between each verse.
There once was the Langseth, a ship
Over wave and trough did she skip.
Many instruments aboard
To always record
Depth, gravity, mag – every blip.
There once was the Langseth, a vessel
Where in their bunks scientists nestled.
‘Til called to their shifts
Their heads they must lift
For with errors and logs they must wrestle.
There once was the Langseth, a boat
On her airguns the crew they would dote.
Oft while in a turn
Guns were brought up astern
To ensure best acoustical note.
There once was the Langseth, seacraft.
Where we launched XBTs down a shaft.
With each probe descent
To the lab data went
So that temperature-depth could be graphed.
There once was the Langseth, a fine tub!
Where the galley crew made us good grub.
But when seas ran high
Up in knots stomachs tied
And to keep the food down, there’s the rub.
There once was the Langseth, fair barge.
To collect seismic data her charge.
Streamer 8-km long
And four gun strings strong
She’s the fleet’s seismic dreadnaught at large!
-Tanya Blacic, aboard the R/V Marcus. G. Langseth