In a seismic company, a Junior Observer (J.O.) is usually the less experienced member of the team, assisting with seismic data acquisition. I found myself in this role, working inside a truck with a small computer shack attached, known as the doghouse. With the senior observer called away, I was unexpectedly tasked with "shooting the line" on my own. It was something I had only observed, never done.

The job involved large vibrating trucks moving along a designated line, stopping at specific points to send seismic vibrations into the ground. The geophones would then record the reflected data, which was critical for generating accurate subsurface images. But before we could start shooting, I had to ensure the seismic line, the geophones, and all the electronic connection boxes were properly connected—a crucial step, as a single missed connection could skew all the data.

Inside the doghouse, as I worked with the computers and ran the numbers, I realized something was wrong. My math along with the reading of the numbers on the computer screen indicated that a connection box was missing in the seismic cable spread. This initiated a frustrating process of narrowing down the location by sending the line drivers up and down the line to check different spots. They would separate the cable heads, I would take a reading, and the put them back together, but no luck.

The crew started getting frustrated. They knew I was a rookie and insisted that everything was connected correctly. Over the radio, someone impatiently urged, "Just take the shots." The operation was running late, and doubt started to creep in. But despite the pressure, the numbers were clear: an electronic box was still missing.

I had to make a choice—either cave to the mounting frustration or trust myself and the math. I stuck to my guns. I had the line drivers run through the spread again, checking deeper. After what felt like an eternity, a crackle over the radio finally brought relief: they had found the cable heads with a missing connection box.

Cheers erupted over the airwaves. I learned back at camp, I had earned the crew’s respect. The persistence had paid off, and we had avoided what could have been a costly mistake. In that moment, I experienced a valuable lesson—trust the math, and trust yourself. Even when doubt creeps in, the numbers will guide you through.