Pulling sediments up from the ocean depths is no easy task. The ship itself is a football field and a half long. A circular drill lowered from the derrick can cut through ten yards of ocean floor in less than two hours. Winches crank up the surgically sliced sediment in cylinders 30 feet long and about as big around as a coffee mug. Half of each core length is stored away as reference material, but the other half goes immediately to the ship's international complement of scientists, who probe, prod, chop, grind, and dissolve it, hoping to reveal the history of the sea floor.
Work is constant.
The researchers churn out data in alternate twelve hour shifts, and drilling continues throughout the day and night. It's real-time science. You can literally go to sleep with one hypothesis of what's going on, and by the time you wake up, the story's changed significantly. During this flurry of research, Moore sits below deck at his computer, drinking copious cups of coffee and punching in the information as it arrives. And in that break runs the channel of water that lubricates the earthquake-causing slippage.