KUAM is running a story about that US Navy submarine, the U.S.S. San Francisco, ran aground while conducting submerged operations 350 miles south of Guam. The submarine sustained damaged and at least one crewman is critically injured. However the submarine’s reactor core is undamaged and it is on the surface and returning to Guam as swiftly as possible.
The San Francisco is a Los Angeles Class attack submarine, commissioned in 1981. She carries a complement of 12 officers and 115 crewmen.
Got two quick astronomy related articles here:
- Parachuting to Titan: Next week should be a doozy for NASA and ESA as the Huygens probe drops through Titan’s atmosphere. Carried to the Saturnian system by the Cassini orbiter, Huygens is set to become the first terrestrial probe to land on Titan. Saturn’s largest moon is terra incognita to science and many are anxiously awaiting the discoveries Huygens will make on January 14th.
- Green Comet: Look to the Pleiades tonight with binoculars and observe the current belle du jour of the evening sky, the Comet Machholz. The comet makes it’s closest approach tonight and will conveniently be close to the Pleaides, one of the sky’s most recognizable clusters.
I am back on island for a couple days now and I am still plagued with unease and a niggling strangeness in my core. Something is keeping me from sinking back into my normal routine. Perhaps it is the effects of jet lag, the colossal amount of housework that needs to be done, or these unusual back spasms that leave me contorted in a rictus of pain, but I am on pins and needles, completely uncomfortable in my own skin, in my own home. Something in me is askew, a restive murmur deep inside my subconscious, slowly staining my waking thoughts and plaguing my dreams. It sits just out of reach, and my mind frets upon it, rather like when a corn kernel stuck between my teeth; my tongue worries over it constantly, unable to resolve the issue but incapable of leaving it alone.
Perhaps it is the growing suggestion that my life needs to have more meaning, something beyond my job and the small little world I inhabit on a daily basis. Or maybe it is familial guilt at being so far from all my relatives Stateside, though that has never really bothered me before. I don’t know, so many anxieties and worries that my mind keeps picking at, scabs that I never allow the time to heal.
But maybe that is the problem, I’ve allowed these scabs to grow over so many of the concerns of my life. Perhaps I need to let them bleed and fester, and I will rouse myself from this tropical stupor and…