How to use this blog

Blog posts are in reverse chronological order, so in order to follow the story from scratch you have to find the beginning of the story line. To do that, use the date links in the right-hand sidebar. There are two major stories in this blog to date: the first, starting in 2005, documents my first trip to Antarctica and New Zealand, while the second, starting in 2008, is about the most recent trip.

The 2005/2006 posts have a lot more information about McMurdo, with pictures of equipment and the environs. The recent posts follow my 2008 work assignment more. There are a couple posts about people I met there (a start at making a series of portraits of some of the many people that McMurdo tick that never really got of the ground).

You can comment on the various links by using the comment link at the bottom of each post. I am pretty sure that you can make an anonymous post (but not 100% sure), if you just work at it. Certainly a google account works if you must sign in. I like comments - your reactions help me tune the next posts and let me know someone actually reads this stuff!

Thanks for following my exploits! I hope you enjoyed it, and maybe learned something in the process.
Scott

Three weeks in New Zealand

I have been back in the US of A for about two weeks now. The first week back I caught up on job paperwork, and this past week I was out of town again for a meeting and working on detector fabrication at Indiana University. So this is about the first chance I have had to catch up. Here goes....

I met my father as scheduled and off we went. New Zealand is easy to be a tourist in. Accomodations range from hotels (similar to what you expect in the US) to hostels. My favorite is the backpacker's, which typically has bunk rooms and shared bath and kitchen facilities. They are clean and comfortable, and run about $30/person/night in a twin; less if you get a bunk in a dorm room. We saved money by making use of the kitchen facilities often.

From Christchurch we made a beeline to Te Anau, where we started the Routeburn Track, meeting Hazel and Ted (NKU friends), and hiking the trail from the west side to east side. The Routeburn Track is ranked as one of the top 10 trails in the world, and now that I have been on it I can see why. Each day was completely different. The first day was through rain forest heavy with red beech. The second day was spent above the treeline, with expansive views and fabulous alpine walking. The third day was again through rain forest, but forest that was less rainy, and was dominated by a silver beech. The weather cooperated with us pretty well. It was temperamental, with some drizzling, especially the first day, and the mountaintops were often obscured by cloud, but our panicked preparations to slog through heavy rains were in vain - thank goodness! The facilities along the trail were topnotch. A series of huts (for which reservations were required) are along the trail which provide bunks and stoves and water. We only carried food, cooking gear, clothing, and sleeping gear, making for light packs. There was an option of a guided walk, in which one would only need to carry clothing, but the price was exhorbitant (~NZ$1500) for the three days/two nights on the Routeburn. We were fine just carrying our own gear.

After saying goodbye to Hazel and Ted, we worked our way back to pick up the car at Te Anau, and from there went to Milford Sound for a day. It is a spectacular place, with waterfalls cascading down the valley walls. It was, however, very touristy, and only bound to get worse, as New Zealand capitalizes on its reputation as a tourist-friendly place. After the day trip there, we moved on to Wanaka via Arrowtown, taking short hikes along the way. In the one day we traveled from Milford Sound to Wanaka we passed from rain forest to near desert. The area around Wanaka reminded me of northern Arizona - dry and mountainous, with clear skies and trees only in the creek and riverbeds. We hiked up to the Rob Roy glacier in the mountains near Wanaka, and were lucky enough to see an ice fall as part of the glacier performing its summer melting act.

From Wanaka we traveled back across the mountains to Haast, and stayed along the beach in sandfly country. I had not believed that the sandflies were any big deal really based on my experience to that point. We were not badly plagued by them. They were easy to kill, and were repelled by deet. However, I learned that it is not the original bite of the sandfly that is annoying, but how that bite develops over the next few days. It gets extremely itchy, and any scratching makes it inflame to be even worse. Letting clothes rub the bite irritates it. To make matters worse, the sandflies are sneaky, and crawl into moderately inaccessible spots (up your sleeves, under your socks) before they bite, which means that you end up with bites in tender places whcih are easily irritated by clothing. To make a long story short, I now completely believe the New Zealand claim that the West Coast would be more thickly settled were it not for sandflies.

Haast was just a stopping point on our way up to the two famous West Coast glaciers, Fox and Franz Joseph. These two glaciers are the only places on the world where a glacier dips down into a rain forest. On our first afternoon we hiked to the bottom of each of these glaciers, and a good thing that was, too, since at this point the rain started. New Zealand was catching the tail end of a tropical storm. The next morning we went down to the coast to try to find a seal colony. The rain was less at the coast (but still wet). Sadly, we were not successful at finding any seals. The sea was very rough due to the storm. Still, the hike was quite nice, leading us along beach, through marsh, and through beech stands.

Heading north from there, we chased the last clouds of the storm as it dissipated up to Pancake Rocks, a spectacular rock formation at the edge of the sea featuring blow holes and weka birds. We spent the night in Greymouth at the Noah's Ark Backpackers (highly recommended), taking time to tour the Monteith's brewery. The next day we set our sights on Dunedin, and started the trip by driving over Arthur's Pass towards Christchurch. We had very rainy weather, and did not get out of the rain until past the divide at the Pass itself. On the way out of the mountains we stopped at some very interesting limestone formations called Castle Hill, and kept driving until we reached Oamaru, just a couple hours north of Dunedin. We stayed the night there, and on the way down to Dunedin the next morning stopped at Moeraki Boulders and the town of Moeraki. These spherical concretions are fun to see and climb on, and are now a big tourist draw on the east coast road. While in Moeraki, we took a hike in an area that was supposedly good to find yellow-eyed penguins in. We were successful! We got a really great close-up view of two penguins right along the trail as they worked their way up to their nest from the sea. There are only about 4000 yellow-eyed penguins left, so it was a real treat to see some.

We spent two days in Dunedin and the Otago peninsula. Out on the peninsula we saw Royal Albatross and a variety of shag (cormorants). Back in town, we found a pretty good beer (Emerson's) and enjoyed it in the evenings. Upon our return to Christchurch, we found the bar that had the most Emerson's pulls, and made it our home away from home. Interestingly, Richard Emerson himself, owner and brewer, showed up at this bar for a visit, and we chatted about various good beers in NZ and the US.

In the end we drove over 2000 miles while staying inthe southern half of the South Island. I ate more cheese and sausage for lunch than I want to see in a long time. We discovered good New Zealand beer, and saw so much scenery that our computer hard drives are chock full of scenery shots.

Second Addendum

I am comfortably ensconced in my home away from home, the Devon B&B, for the final night before the adventure begins. There was a day of rain, so I did not go out to Lyttleton Harbor, but instead stayed in town and explored the marvelous Hagley Botanical Gardens here. I'll share lots of photos of things that caught my eye. Bugs in particular were new again.

Hopefully there will be no problems and everything will fall into place. The weather for our Routeburn hike this weekend is predicted to be cold and wet, which sounds mighty unpleasant. I can only hope that this is one of the times when the weather man gets it wrong.

First Addendum

I am sitting in a B&B at about 10PM on Sunday night after my first full day back in civilization. I visited the botanical gardens here in Christchurch, which are quite spectacular, and stopped to smell ALL the roses, which took a little time. I got a Starbuck's coffee. Twice. I made friends with a (very friendly, wet-tongued) dog. It's amazing and puzzling to me that cats and dogs are among the things I found myself missing most down there.

Tomorrow is my "work day," during which I will try to make a car reservation, plan a route down to the trailhead, buy some small amount of food, and make lodging reservations. Hopefully there will still be time to expore the nearby port town of Littleton, but if not, there is always Tuesday.

Keep those comments coming. Don't be shy! I like to see that someone actually reads this.

That's all folks

Tomorrow morning I leave McMurdo on an LC130 cargo plane. I am one of 40 or so passengers on the turboprop. The flight time is approximately 8 hours. This is longer and much less comfortable than the C17 jet (5 hours), but on the other hand I would not be getting out were it not for this flight. Also, the jet is often delayed (as it is today) and does not get back into Christchurch until after midnight sometimes. The LC130 will get in around late afternoon and I should be able to have a relaxing late dinner somewhere. The next few days I will spend reorganizing the amazing amount of stuff I find myself in possession of (I am allowed 75 lbs and I checked only to find I have hit that and still have a few clothing items to pack yet), and exporing rental cars, places to go, organizing food for the hike on the Routeburn, etc.

Sayings

I came up with a few sayings this year, and in keeping with the previous blog of two years ago, I'll share my favorites.

1. "Recovery is for the young." Oh, my aching joints.


2. "My eyes may be bigger than my stomach, but my stomach seems up to the challenge." When an inexhaustible food supply presents itself to you, it is hard to know when to quit. Especially when the message here is that of an Italian grandmother: "Eat, you're so skinny! You need these calories to keep warm! Have some more!"


3. "No dessert should go untried." My compliments to the excellent dessert chef this year. He also does yoga. The bread chef was also quite good.
4. From someone else: "Memories of Antarctica are always bittersweet." Everyone wishes they could have done that one more thing, gotten to know that other person better, seen more wildlife, or whatever, but are grateful for the friends they made, the good times, etc.
5. On my inability to sleep in past 7AM, no matter what time I went to bed: "Apparently, I have reached the time of life at which the habits of the body are more powerful than its needs." Perpetual light, perpetual wakefulness.

Vessel unloading

The cargo vessel has arrived at McMurdo, and the station has stopped everything but vessel operations. No bars are open, no alcohol sales allowed, very restricted store hours, no shuttles, no Sunday brunch... no fun in general allowed. Unloading and reloading takes about a week, but I am leaving Saturday, so will miss most of it.

Every available space is being used for storage. Sea containers are unloaded from the ship, trucked around the station to locations near where the materials they contain will be stored, unloaded, then reloaded with materials (mostly waste) that goes back to the States. The space between the dorms and the galley is fenced off. What used to be a short walk from my room to the galley now requires a long detour.

In just a few minutes an annular eclipse begins. I have heard the ceverage will be about 80%, which is pretty good. The Beaker types here are excited about it, but I have my doubts we will see much, since when I just checked it was partly cloudy and the sun was obscured. But that could change quickly, so I will pay attention. I will try to take some pictures, but they will probably just be overexposed where the sun is shining, even in eclipse.

All over but the shouting

We finished up this morning loading the sea crates. We sent absolutely everything back, including the trash from the instrument. There are no landfills in Antarctica anymore.

We started with what you saw in the earlier post in the plane and on the ice, brought it into the hangar (to the left), packed it more carefully, and then filled the crate. You can see the result below.

Recovery is hard on an instrument. The parts are fragile, and the handling is rough. The instrument was essentially undamaged at the landing site, even after getting dismantled (except for all the cut cables), but now I noticed several parts are worse for the trip in the plane and in the truck back to the hangar. Two TCD light guides are broken in their middles, and I noticed one TCD PMT was smashed. That all happened post-dismantling. My rule of thumb for recovery is (1) don't make it heavy, because if it is, people have to "gorilla" it to get it to get it where they want it in the plane or truck or hangar, (2) make special holders for recovery, like for the calorimeter, which worked out well - only a few IFO lines pulled off, and those were while trying to disentangle cable during recovery, which we gave up on and cut when we saw that we were doing more harm than good.

Now the crates have been turned over to the shipping gurus here, and magic happens, and somehow the crates end up back in the States. All these goods get handled again, as the stuff gets unloaded and distributed to the various institutions from which it came. And next year it all happens again.

Meanwhile, I have a few days of waiting before I catch a plane out of here. The room and board are a good price. There is moderate entertainment. I have a bit of regular work to do. So I won't get bored. We'll have a mild celebration of sorts. Yoann leaves on tomorrow's plane (he had such confidence in our finishing on time that he never changed his reservation from the 5th) while Terri and I are scheduled for the 11th, a week away. After that, I will tour NZ a bit, and get back to Cincinnati on March 1 or so.

Everything is in

We received the final few pieces of CREAM today via a Twin Otter on its way back from Siple Dome. The passengers were generous enough to help the pilots load the remaning bits. We just showed up at the airpoprt and offloaded it into our truck.

We have started the packing process and will load the sea containers in the next day or two. They should both be in the shipping pipeline early this coming week.

Miracles Can Happen

It seems that our day finally came, and that we only needed one! I was surprised that we went out, considering that the sky was very grey. During the flight there was a white out. I could not discern ice from sky. There was no horizon. Was that ice or ground fog below me? Fortunately our pilots (after a little searching) were able to find the instrument and land. (More on these spectacular couple of pilots later.) The weather continued to be poor. In fact, during recovery it started to snow a couple times, although it never amounted to much. It just covered the tools a bit and made small things hard to find. The temperature was -13C (9F), and a slight wind was blowing that carried enough wind chill to make cheeks really burn.

We worked in pairs. Terri and Yoann tackled the palette boxes on the priority list. Larry and I began the process of disassembly with the goal of reaching the SCD. This worked very well, and four people was the right number for an instrument like CREAM, which needed a lot of unscrewing and had numerous parts, many of them quite heavy. We looked for visual evidence of the S3/CVD failure but did not find anything.

There were some interesting moments during recovery. Once the TCD paddles were removed, Larry and I were faced with the wall of the TCD support structure. After removing the outrigger supports and numerous bolts, the thing would not budge. Tolerances were so tight that we could not slide it out. After nearly half an hour of beating on the thing, we got out the saws-all and cut a mounting bracket. From then on things went much better for a while. The CherCam was a challenge because of its weight and tight fit, but its removal went very smoothly once we realized the support brackets were easily dismountable from the frame. Once it was out, uprighting the palette was trivial. We then proceeded to remove the framing so that we could easily remove the SCD and everything below it. The cross members on top were cut, but nothing else (except the afore-mentioned bracket).

The new method of calorimeter removal with the trays was challenging but very effective. There were a few design issues that made for trouble. The very small flathead screws were apparently RTVed in and a couple heads were stripped during removal, so the cover had to pried off around them. The 3.5 inch long screws did not stand up enough to remove them after unscrewing them and could not be pulled out of the insets because the tolerance was very tight around the screwhead. But these were minor issues. It took just over an hour to prepare to remove the first layer (eg pulling off tape, which is very difficult with gloves and when the tape is cold, separating cookies, some of which had screws whose heads got stripped as well). However, once we got going, loading the trays took less than an hour. Overall I would give this new process a B+. A few minor design changes or perhaps even more details in the instructions would make it get an A+, if such is possible for moving 1000 lbs.


Meanwhile, the area around the detector looked like a tornado had blown through. Note the lack of a horizon in the photo above. We wrapped electronics boxes in ESD bags, and set the detectors out on blue foam or in the snow. Around 5PM Terri and Yoann worked with the pilots to load the plane. Terri identified the priority items so that they would go out that first day, and packed the electronics more carefully with bubble wrap. Did you know that tape does not stick at those low temperatures? It made for some challenging moments.

But in the end we were able to load about 80% of CREAM onto the plane. The pilots, Jim and Louis (who was French Canadian and spoke with Yoann in French, much to his delight) were absolutely fantastic. They were committed to getting as much back as they possibly could, and got out in the snow with us to help carry these behemoths over to the plane. They stayed an hour or two later than they probably were supposed to in order to get as much as possible. The pilot was a true professional when it came to tight loading. I put myself through college working in a moving company, where it was important to stack stuff from floor to ceiling tightly to get as much as possible in and to keep the load from shifting. Jim rivaled the best packers I worked with in those days.

All that is left for pickup today by planes on their way to or from other sites is two calorimeter trays, two bags of cables, the palette, the TCD support structure, the frame pieces, and a few odds and ends. The pile in the picture is all that is left.

Recovery is very hard on an instrument. While CREAM landed easily, and it appeared there was no damage to the science instruments, the subsequent handling takes a toll. I think you could count on one hand the number of cables that did not get cut. Consider that all the TCD paddles were removed with only one joint breaking. In the subsequent handling of about a dozen times every joint ended up broken. After removal from the instrument they sat in the snow. They were then handed into the plane, loaded, flown about, removed to the ground at Willie Field, loaded in our truck, hauled to LDB, and finally removed into the hanger. All the instruments were handled that many times. The heavier they are the harder it is to handle them. Only two people, maybe three, can really be in the Twin Otter loading. It is a very small cargo hold. Devices with brackets still on offer a hold for carriers. Imagine wrapping your feet in sopping wet towels, wrapping a quilt around your body, and wearing the biggest winter gloves you have owned, then walking through sand dunes carrying 300 pound delicate instruments. Not an easy task.

We will go through everything we brought back over the next couple of days. We'll examine the S3 and CVD parts more closely to see if we can find any reason for the failure. Everything will get packed up into the sea crate. After that, the instrument will arrive in Palestine around mid-March, and someone has to go down to pick up the pieces.


Meanwhile, life in McMurdo continues. The fuel ship has finished unloading and is preparing to leave. The Palmer is gone. Yesterday's off-continent flight practically emptied out my dorm, leaving it blissfully quiet. I was able to luxuriate in a hot shower this morning, instead of the usual tepid poor excuse for one I usually get. I had to turn in my skis, since for some reason the gear issue season is finished. I am not sure what I will do to entertain myself until my plane leaves once I am finished packing the sea crate. But I'll manage, because I can sleep in and can put my field gear away. I'll get to see the cargo ship arrival and unloading, which I understand is a really crazy time here, when looking both ways before you cross the street is essential in order not to get run over by forklifts shuttling goods and crates.

Mission update, take 2

We are a primary mission for tomorrow, Friday, 1 Feb. We'll see what happens. I have made my peace with staying here until 11 Feb, when the CSBF guys call it quits and the ballooning season officially ends, so I am not particularly strssed about this opportunity.

Here is an update on the other two payloads, ATIC and BESS. ATIC came down about 170 miles from South Pole Stations, while BESS came down miles from anywhere, near the top middle of the continent (in its usually displayed orientation). To be more specific, it is about 250 miles from Patriot Hills and 170 miles from AGO-2, both of which are uninhabited camps at this time. You can see ATIC's location in the map above. ATIC was launched at McMurdo, followed the yellow path counterclockwise for the first revolution and the red path for the partial second revolution, until termination at the end after 19.5 days. BESS is shown similarly to the right, and was terminated after 30.5 days. CREAM is shown at the bottom. It was up for 29 days.

Currently the plan is to fully recover ATIC out of the South Pole Station with a Twin Otter. Two colleagues from that experiment are currently positioned at Pole, and are waiting for weather to cooperate there. BESS will not get a recovery mission this year. The plan is to send in two mountaineers on a plane to get the CSBF required equipment and the BESS data (16 terrabytes!!). No scientist will get near the instrument this season. Sometime next summer (eg December) a campaign will be mounted to retrieve the whole instrument.

Weather cancel again

Despite what I thought was good weather this morning, we have been cancelled for today. There is supposed to be 4-6 inches of snow at some point this afternoon or evening. It has been coming for two days now, so I am puzzled why the great concern all of a sudden. You would think they would give us what time we could get on the instrument. We could return as soon as the snow started to fly. I almost feel as if they give us primary to shut us up knowing that they can call a weather cancel the next morning and run the backup missions, which they really want. But that is frustration talking, not reality.

The last two weeks have been really emotionally draining. I have been riding this roller coaster of hope and despair. It is impossible to plan to be part of the community when I never know what will come of each day. Each day I get up early, eat a big breakfast in preparation for working all day, then wait for my pager to buzz me. At that point I get the news: go or no go. I am not sleeping well at night because I am replaying every possible scenario in my head regarding instrument disassembly.

There is one funny story to all this. Way back towards the beginning of my long wait I was being sent text pages. I finally got one that said GO. I got my gear and headed off to the rendezvous point. Strangely, my McMurdo representative was not there. I found him in his office. He looked at me standing there in full gear unbelievingly. I told him the message said GO. He said the rest of the message was BACK TO BED. We now do not use the text feature. I get a phone number to call instead. No mistakes.

We are going to treat the next flight we get as the last. We will bring all tools and gear back. That is 400 lbs less of instrument we could carry instead, but that is how it goes. Some parts of the instrument may sit on the ice until next winter. While the arrival delay of the cargo vessel this year by two weeks has given us (for better or for worse) an extra two weeks to try to get the instrument back, we are running short of that windfall. If the instrument is not on the dock in a week, it will not go back to the US this year anyway.

Another try

Tomorrow (Thursday) we are a primary mission on a Twin Otter. Tonight (~10:30PM) the weather does not look so good. Here we go again....

Just to give you a feel of what people do down here in their spare time, see the photo.

One down, two to go

We finally got out today! The weather was gorgeous for a change. You can see the blue sky behind the picture to the left when we arrived. If it stays like this for four days or so I think we have a chance. We managed to remove all the external support hardware (flight train, termination packages, solar panels, the 600 pound power and communications module behemoth) and grab the science data box today. We are poised to begin breaking into the instrument proper. The parachute was not even visible after 10 days in the snow, so we left it behind. It would have been very difficult to excavate it. As it was, I spent most of the morning digging under the instrument to access the power disconnects to make the instrument safe to disassemble. I had to laugh that the engineers put quick disconnects on all the panels except the one that had to be accessed during recovery, and the fate that put that panel in the snow. We don't want to get shocked accidentally when cutting a wire. The access panel landed downwards in the snow, and the few snowstorms and wondstorms we have had since the instrument landed piled up a heap against the power module. I had plenty of practice digging at snow school so felt really prepared.

We left some of our tools and gear at the site since the plane was completely full. Everything is strapped down in case of a storm. You can see that the external stuff is gone.

So when will I be done? Let's do the math: today was Tuesday. Tomorrow we are back to backup status, so won't fly, most likely. Suppose Thursday we were primary, and then either Friday or Saturday. Then we would have the instrument all back, could pack it Sunday and Monday, and make the Feb 5 plane to Christchurch. But that scenario assumes we get our flights - and even more importantly this year in particular - the weather holds. Sunday is a no-fly day. If we flew on Monday we could stay up all night Monday night to finish packing but we would be dead on our feet. Worth it to me, I guess, since the Feb 8 plane is full, and the next one is Feb 11.

Weather cancel

We awoke to snow today (Sunday), despite a forecast for clear skies. After delaying a decision until noon, I have just been told we will not fly out today. The last schedule I saw did not have us on it again until Thursday, but that is, of course, fluid. Things are very grim for getting out of here before Feb 12.

The bright spot is that now I will go learn to use the CSBF gas-powered chop saw, which may come in handy during recovery. Vrrrrooom!

R/V Nathanial B. Palmer

The research vessel Nathaniel B. Palmer is a real contrast to icebreaker Oden. The Palmer is a working vessel, and its interior is full of labs and workspace for scientists to bring up all sorts of seawater, bottom ooze, and little creatures from the Antarctic Ocean. All of the work done by the Oden is exterior to the craft. There are no special wood highlights in the Palmer, although I was told it does have a sauna. The Palmer is capable of breaking through a meter of ice at a few knots (contrast that to the Oden, which is capable of several meters of ice at the same rate.) The Palmer's mission is scientific, and icebreaking is a secondary "necessary evil." Crew and scientist quarters are cramped, but there is lots of public space - as long as you don't mind sharing that space with a beaker of ooze or frigid water. The galley is in the bow, where, I am told,it is impossible to hold a conversation when ice is being crunched. The advantage to this large ship over the Oden is its stability in foul weather, which it encounters often. On the way down it endured 50 foot waves with 80 knot winds. All the captain could do was face the waves and ride the storm out. Water was apparently breaking over the bow in huge sheets.

Its draft is 7.5 meters, a meter less than the Oden. We were shown the spare propeller sections (4 to a propeller) - most impressive. Can you imagine having to install these in the middle of the ocean? I just don't think they would do that. They would more likely get towed to a port or limp in on one engine, and then have the prop changed.

Tomorrow is another day - take 2

We are the primary mission for tomorrow (Monday). Cross your fingers for us!

The Polar Plunge

The Kiwis at Scott Base offered a Polar Plunge this evening. Any and all interested could go jump into the coldest waters on earth. The temperature is about -2C. High salinity keeps the water from freezing at the usual temperature. A hole in the ice serves as your pool. The air temp is just below freezing. After your jump, there is a hot tub to get feeling back in your extremeties. I talked to one person who jumped four times. Most go at least once in their birthday suits, then plunge in more modestly. This has to be a Kiwi outing because the powers that be in McMurdo would never sanction it. Too fun, I think.

Did I go? No. Sorry to disappoint. Most of my showers in McMurdo qualify as Polar Plunges. There is never hot enough water when I need it.

However, one of my (crazy) colleagues went and sends this photo of the setup. The next photo is of her swimming back to the ladder.

Skiing and hiking and penguins

I have never been on a pair of skis before last weekend. You can rent cross country and skate ski gear here, and my colleague Terri, who has been here three months and really got involved in the community, learned from scratch in a few weeks. While I do not want to spend a few more weeks here, I have least got a flavor of what is like to both kinds of skiing offered.


The two ways of skiing are very different. Cross country skis are long and wide relative to skate skis, with fish scales on the bottom that keep the skis from sliding backwards. You trudge along as if you were walking. You have probably seen this in the Olympics. Skate skis are more like "the worse part of downhill skis," so I am told. You don't have a hill but are expected to go forward. I found this method much more interesting than cross country. You move in a left-right rocking motion from ski to ski, sort of like ice skating. I am no expert, as you can see here, so if you disagree with my description, add a better one to the comments.

So last weekend I rented cross country skis, tried them out for an hour, then on Sunday skied out to Castle Rock. The Castle Rock trail is along a glacier, and is rough snow and very steep. It was a bad introduction to skiing. I did very badly. It was only slightly fun because I got so exhausted, fighting the skis the whole way. I only fell now and then (maybe a dozen times), but I kept the rest of the group from speeding along. I at least doubled the total time they would have taken without me. They were very nice, and waited for me.



But being a glutton for punishment, I rented skate skis this afternoon and tried them out. I skated along the road from Willie Field (one of the the airfields), which is fairly level and moderately groomed. I had much better luck, but I was still very slow and got exhausted quickly. It was nice, though, to get outside and try something new. You can see I am more confident on skate skis. Today's weather cleared up this afternoon, and the wind died down, making skiing very pleasant. Sadly, we are not on the schedule for tomorrow. I still have the skate skis, so I will try skate skiing again.


Otherwise, today I took a hike around Ob Hill (very windy and cold), and on the way back spotted (distantly) penguins out by Hut Point, so dashed over there to view them. I watched them hang out for a while, then jump in the water. Weddell seals litter the ice, like giant floppy slugs. The sea ice is melting near, and large pools are visible. Some whales have been spotted in these pools- just not by me yet!

Not today... again

Still waiting. Must... keep... calm...

There is talk of flying tomorrow, Sunday, a usual no-fly day. I won't believe it until I am standing next to the payload with a screwdriver in my hand. Even getting the plane off the ground here at McMurdo is no guarantee we'll end up on the ground at our destination. On the ice shelf there is often a three to six feet high fog that comes in from the ocean that completely obscures the ground. The pilot needs to see the ground to land on it, especially since it is not a runway but just ice and snow. The winds form 6-12 inch high snow humps called sastrugi, which can snap off the landing gear if gone across crossways. The pilot aligns the aircraft with the sestrugi, and the aircraft bumps and rolls when landing, but doesn't lose a ski.

Tomorrow is another day

We are 1st backup for one of the Twin Otter flights tomorrow. If weather cancels the primary flight, then it is our turn. This is getting old....

Janitor Dawn

Janitor Dawn is responsible for keeping the dorm I live in, building 203A, spic and span. She does a great job. She is here six days a week, cleaning the hallways and bathrooms and lounge areas. She is also reponsible for cleaning the Chapel (where my yoga classes are held), and spends afternoons helping out in the main laundry facility for the Station.

Dawn is from Kansas via Denver. This is her first year here, and she has decided to pursue any opportunity to come back next year, hopefully in an administrative position. She left "a really good job" in Denver to follow her boyfriend down here and has not regretted it. She likes the international mix of people, travel opportunities, and the spectacular outdoor setting here. "Where else can you see penguins and whales in their natural environment?" She even likes the climate - most people are under the impression that the weather is really cold here, but it has been warmer here than Denver and Cincinnati recently. Temperatures are between the high teens and high thirties. While it has often been windy and cloudy this year, typically it is sunny and beautiful all summer. The really cold weather is at the Pole, which is between -20F and -30F these days. Yuch.

Thanks for sharing your story, Dawn!

...and again

We were not a primary mission this morning. The schedule was not posted until about 10:30 last night, and we were not on it then, so I did not even bother to set my alarm this morning. Today's flights are out to some area glaciers. Maybe tomorrow we will go?

I lose one roomate and gain another today.

Waiting again

Bad weather has canceled our recovery flight for today. There are high winds and light snow with low visibility. Conditions are expected to get worse before they get better. Maybe we will go out tomorrow. More later.

The Waiting Game may be over!

I just found out that CREAM recovery is a primary Twin Otter mission for tomorrow and possibly the two days afterwards. Weather and mechanical permitting (a really important phrase here), we'll fly out to the instrument, dismantle it, stuff the pieces into the little plane, and bring it all back to McMurdo, unload the plane into a truck, drive the parts to the hanger, unload them into the hanger, drive back into town, and collapse exhausted into our beds to be ready to do it all again the next day. That means that I will not be keeping up this blog for the next few days. I'll be leaving at dawn and returning at dusk. Er, wait a sec - no dawn and dusk here, so, ah, leaving early and returning late by these clocks in the land of perpetual light.

After all the bits and pieces get back we put everything in a big sea container, put a ribbon on it, and wish it bon voyage. THEN I am free to leave. I may make my Feb 1 departure date after all!

Shuttle Jamie

I have decided to start making short profiles of some of the people I meet here. Folks that make up support crew in the town of McMurdo come from all walks of life but generally share a love of the outdoors. I will never do their stories real justice, but will try to give you an idea of who they are, what they do, and where they come from.

Shuttle Jamie (that's her call sign) drives shuttles around town. The need for shuttles here is great. No one has their own vehicle. Gear is hauled all around town. For example, for a group to get ready for the field, they need transport in from the runway after arrival (usually the Pegasus Ice Runway, where the C17 comes in), have their personal and ECW (Emergency Cold Weather) gear hauled to their dorms, then collect their camping gear from the Berg Field Center (BFC), food from the galley (kitchen), and finally get all this hauled to either the helopad or out to Willy Field, the C130 ice runway. There are various vehicles around available to help with all these tasks. Some are made for snow and ice, others for dirt and mud around town. A post from my previous visit had links to pictures of some of these vehicles.

I met Shuttle Jamie on my way to Scott Base in a Delta. I rode up front because the ride is short, and it is a pain to get people out of the boxes in the back of those things (see the pictures in that earlier post linked above). Remarkably, Jamie is from Cincinnati, and in fact lives less than a mile from my house there! It is truly a small world. This is her first year here. She likes it here enough that she considered wintering over but thought that her sister, who is expecting a baby, would not appreciate it. Will she come back? Probably, if she can swing it. She drives a full 8 hour day, sometimes more, and switches between the Delta regularly scheduled routes, shuttling on call, and Ivan the Terrabus (my favorite).

Scott's Hut

You are probably aware that it is from this area that Robert Falcon Scott started his epic failure of a journey into the heart of Antarctica in his quest to be first to the South Pole. The place is practically littered with huts of gear and food that his expedition left behind. There is one hut about 500 yards from downtown McMurdo, on appropriately named Hut Point. The site is protected, and is only occasionally open for tours. I took one of these this week, and have some photos of the inside to share.

The hut is a prefab unit Scott purchased in Australia. It was designed to keep people cool in the outback. The first thing that you notice as you walk in is how incredibly funky the smell is. The next thing you notice is how it looks like hardly anything has happened since Scott left. There are seal bodies that have been preserved in the cold dry weather here, like the Chilean Andes mummies. There are boxes and boxes of dog biscuits, some clothing hanging out to dry, and shelves full of tinned chocolate, tea, meats, and other foodstuffs.

The area around McMurdo is also littered with crosses commemorating those who gave their lives here for one reason or another. The cross on Hut Point is for George Vince, the doctor in Scott's expedition, who was last seen walking across the sea ice, but never arrived. He probably fell through a hole and drowned. Another cross, on top of Ob Hill, is for Scott himself, and has the famous quote from Tennyson, "To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield" engraved on it. Yet another cross memorializes a young man named Williams, who was driving a tractor hauling supplies in from a Navy vessel during the establishment of McMurdo Station and fell through the sea in 350 fathoms of water. His body was never recovered. nor was the tractor. Rough place, Antarctica.

Local entertainment

There are several things I have been doing to wile away the time while I await a plane (or three).
1. Read. I brought several books. There is also a library here. And it is possible to borrow DVDs/videos, although I have not taken advantage of that opportunity yet.

2. Weather watch. Since flights and outdoor activities depend so much on good weather, and the weather here can change in a heartbeat, one can spend hours in morbid fascination staring at the weather pages and flight schedules, which are broadcast on the TV network here and shown on TVs mounted near the cafeteria. Here is an example page of current observations. Don't you love how the next sunset is February 20? I will hopefully miss it. It is also fun to see the Pole current observations: Temps of -27F!!

3. Exercise in the gym (aka gerbil gym). The only prefab building using tabs from the 50's left on site, the gerbil gym offers several treadmills, stationary bikes, ellipticals, and other tasty tidbits for those wishing to break a sweat.

4. Hike. There are several hiking trails around. The ones on the sea ice are closed now, since the sea ice is unstable in this late summer. All the rest are available to the lone hiker, except the Castle Rock loop, which requires two people and check in/out with the local Firehouse for safety reasons.

5. Ski. You can rent various gear here, including cross country and skate skis. I rented some cross country skis and after one hour of practice the first day went on a six mile ski to Castle Rock with a group of people. These folks turned out to be very nice because I really am bad on skis, and they were very patient with me. I fell a lot. I am awfully sore today, and I went two days ago. Still, I will get back up on this horse and try again, perhaps with lessons. In my defense the snow was very beat up since it doubles as a hiking trail. This is what I look like after falling.

6. Nightlife. Bars! Bars! Bars! There are three here. Southern Exposure, the hard core smoking bar; Gallaghers, the not-quite-as-hard core non-smoking bar; and the Coffee House/Wine Bar. The last is low key, with background music that the "Beakers" (aka scientists) frequent. Some atmosphere is given by the very old skis and sleds hanging from the ceiling. (See photo.) I have spent several relaxing evenings there either playing cards, chatting, or joining in on a movie in the adjoining mini-theater room. Sadly, it is now closed for the next couple weeks for renovations. The recent snows emphasized just how bad the condition of its roof is.

7. Eat. Regular meals which I neither cook nor clean for encourages me to try everything. My motto: No desert should go untried. The pastry and bread chef here should be commended! Meals are usually OK. They are generally much better than I remember on my last trip two years ago. There is certainly more fruit and salad available.

Otherwise, I do some work on my computer, write these posts, and check out the view from the Crary Lab science library of the TransAntarctic Mountains, and use the spotting scope there to keep tabs on all that's happening.