We made it off the ice and back to Christchurch on Saturday; only one day late. For Antarctica travel norms, that’s pretty good.
We are happy to be eating food of our own choice and drinking coffee that doesn’t taste like dirt (GSC has a contract to buy this Antarctica Blend coffee, which is NOT good).
Also, REALLY happy to be around real dairy. Not from a powder, but straight from the cow (and then through a processing plant that pasteurizes it and what not — but it least it skips the powderizing part).
It is sunny and warm(er) in Christchurch and we are off to explore.
I will continue posting as we travel across the world and eventually back to the States. And I will also post some Antarctic antics that I didn’t get time to post when we were on the Ice.
So, one thing I have been disappointed with in my time in Antarctica is the lack of outdoor recreation. When it comes to indoor recreation, there’s plenty. Games, movies, drinking galore, fitness classes, organized sports in the Big Gym, even a climbing wall.
But I didn’t come to Antarctica to be inside. As with most places I visit, I want to breath the air, see the wildlife, walk the land.
There are trails here. But they are managed by the NSF, which governs McMurdo as a nanny state. You can leave station, but you must tell dispatch where you’re going and when you’ll be back. That’s reasonable and a habit anyone venturing into the woods should have.
But, my problem is the trails. They are few. And they don’t go very far. And you’re limited to skiing them or walking them. NO ice climbing. NO kite skiing. NO swimming (or even dunking). NO rock climbing.
As a result of this reality, I decided to spend my New Year’s Day (which I celebrated on February 8) in a sufferfest of my own making.
A sufferfest is a self-inflicted event where one choses an outdoor task that will take many hours and push your body and mind. In the past, for me, this has meant hiking rim-to-rim-to-rim in the Grand Canyon (50 miles) in 20 hours. Or doing a 24 hour adventure race with kayaking, rappelling, mountain biking and orienteering. Or hiking from Hanover, New Hampshire to the Moosilauke Ravine Lodge (53 miles north on the Appalachian Trail) in 24 hours; twice. Or cycling 380 miles from Pittsburgh to Washington, D.C. in 3.5 days.
Or, hiking 34 miles on the trails at McMurdo Station on my day off.
The day started off nicely with calm winds and an overcast sky. But it only took about 10 miles for the winds to pick up. The sun came out briefly to warm me, but it didn’t last. The last 17 miles were windy and cold, but I pushed on and achieved my goal.
The side of Ob Hill, the McMurdo Sound and the ever-present sun.Me, backlit, at the start of my day.
Three laps in. The wind was picking up.
Half-way! This was the only time when I had direct sun. It felt lovely, especially when I was out of the wind.
And done. It took 9 hours and I was cold and hungry.
I usually hike with trekking poles, but the gear issue wasn’t open the day before so I couldn’t check out a pair. That means, my hands got really swollen from swinging by my sides for hours on end. Here’s a look at the swelling (left) and how my hands normally look (right).
The next day, I was just sleepy and not very sore. It was the least painful sufferfest I’ve ever had.
In case you were wondering why I decided to stay to the same trail all day and do loops rather than venture over to Hut Point (the only other open trail), the answer is: the McMurdo Challenge. I made that up, too. It’s the goal of hiking the Ob Hill Loop 30 times in 30 days. My loops during the Sufferfest worked to complete 12 Ob Hill Loops of the 30. On February 18, I finished the 30th loop on the 30th day of the challenge. It was the coldest, windiest hike I’ve had at McMurdo.
Cold and windy. The ice over the sound is the most open since I got here. In the past, it has opened all the way over to Scott Base, but it’s still about a mile away from there right now.
We’re still in McMurdo. We were scheduled to leave this morning, but our flights were delayed 24 hours.
That’s pretty typical. And given the airfield conditions this year, quite expected.
McMurdo operates its flight traffic off of two air strips. One, called Pegasus, can handle large, wheeled aircraft like Airbuses and C-17s. Willy Airfield, however, is small and can only take planes with skis like C-130s. The large planes can travel quickly, making the flight from Christchurch in about 5 hours. The C-130s are slow and take about 8 hours.
Because Pegasus has not frozen up the way it usually does, all C-17 and Airbus flights were cancelled. So, rather than 100 people leaving on one flight per day, those 100 people are being split up into 3 flights of 35 or so on the C-130s. More flights mean more variables and, likely, more delays.
So, now it’s a waiting game.
We were allowed the day to pack up our room and do any last-minute logistical things around town today. We returned our skis, did laundry and cleaned our room.
At 4:30 p.m., we are scheduled to drop our bags off at the transport office. They will weigh everything (including ourselves) and take our checked luggage.
At that point, things should be in line for a Saturday departure.
But, we still have two hours before we drop off our bags. And even when we do, it doesn’t guarantee an on-time departure.
Only time will tell how long our McMurdo journey will last.
Hoping for a view like this soon. (Richard took this photo on his flight down in September, 2015).
Let’s start with Amenomania — “Wind madness” as described by Linda Davis in her book “Sir Ernest Shackleton.” It’s an obsession with the wind; its direction, speed and sound.
Freshies — real food; not frozen or canned.
Wasties — Waste department employees
Stewies — Stewards or galley workers
Fuelies — Fuels workers
Runway — Willy Airfield
LDB — Long Duration Ballon Launch operation and location on the ice shelf
Highway 1 and 2 — the two main hallways of building 155
Galley — the cafeteria
Gerbil Gym — the indoor gym where the treadmills and like fitness equipment live
Big Gym — where the basketball, volleyball, soccer and other large space games are played
Uppercase dorms — buildings 206, 207, 208, 209, 210 and 211; these are labeled as “berthing” buildings on the formal station maps
Lowercase dorms — buildings 201, 202, 203 A/B/C (buildings 204 and 205 no longer exist); these are labeled as “berthing” buildings on the formal station maps
VMF — where the vehicles are maintained
e Foot Plan — the plan you have to submit before you can leave McMurdo for recreational purposes
Admin Break — the 15 minutes a day when you MUST check your email
GSC — Gana-A’Yoo Services (my contractor)
PAE — Pacific Architects and Engineers (another contractor)
ASC — the Antractic Support Contract (the one who hires us all); currently managed by Lockheed Martin Corporation
GHG — contractor that hires IT folk
NSF — The National Science Foundation, the reason McMurdo exists
UTMB — University of Texas Medical Branch — the medical contractor
Best Recycling — the contractor that hires waste and recycling folk
NavChaps — Navy guys
Skua — The free thrift store in town, properly known as Skua Central; also the species name of our only flighted bird; also the action of donating something to the free store
MidRat — those who work the overnight shift
MacOps — the folks who run communications for organized groups leaving town, including science teams and formal recreation trips
Ice Radio — 104.5 FM, the station’s station
USAP — United States Antarctic Program
Con 1 — wind speeds greater than 55 knots, wind chills colder than -100F, or visibility less than 100 feet
Con 2 — wind speeds between 48-55 knots, wind chills between -75 to -100F, or visibility less than .25 miles
Con 3 — all weather that is not Con 1 or Con 2. Considered “normal” weather for McMurdo
ACA — The Antarctic Conservation Act; the U.S. law that supports the Antarctic Treaty in protecting animals and land (surprisingly, does not protect the waters around the land which is why it’s technically not illegal to fish endangered species in Antarctica water — see Japan and Chilean Sea Bass).
The Chalet — offices for the NSF folk
Mammoth Mountain Inn (MMI) and Hotel California (HoCal) — NSF and NavChap dorms
Walk-in — the Berd Field Camp freezer
Tow-Away — the carpentry shop
Hut Ten — Lounge building which requires reservations
The Apples — two red, fiber glass emergency huts along the glacier trail to Castle Rock
Scott Base — the New Zealand station that’s about 2 miles away from McMurdo
Admunson-Scott Base — South Pole station; or, simply, “Pole” as it’s called here. As in, “I just got back from Pole.” No articles needed.
ECW — extreme cold weather gear; this includes parka, boots, fleece jacket, fleece pants, water proof pants, gloves (that are terrible and not warm at all), fleece mittens, balaclava, hat.
Big Red — the down parka issued as part of one’s ECW
Little Red — a wind jacket, minus the down, that you can request but is not automatically given to everyone as part of ECW
Bunny Boots — the big, awkward boots given as part of ECW
Janos — the janitors
Beekers — the scientists
Frosty Boy — the soft-serve ice cream machine in the galley
Galley Rally — the meeting of the galley workers before each meal
BOG — Back of Galley; the only room in the dining area without windows
“Where’s your storage unit?” — a more commonly asked question than “where is your home?” Most ASC employees are so transient, they do not have permanent homes, but almost everyone has a storage unit.
DV — Distinguished Visitor; aka Bridgader Generals, members of Congress, etc.; also the name of events given in the honor of current DVs.
There’s more; I just can’t think of them right now.
The mountain in our backyard: Mt. Erebus with a puff of volcanic exhaust on a rare, windless day. (The summit is over 12,000 feet).
Around this time in the McMurdo summer season, three large boats come to visit. They all serve to restock the town with supplies and food for the next year. They also take away trash, hazardous waste and gear from the year’s science experiments that need to go back to labs in the U.S. (The ice cores harvested from the West Antarctica Ice Sheet for the last 15 years or so have all traveled from Antarctica to California via a big boat. Then, they were taken across to Colorado for long term storage in a semi truck.)
But before the “vessel” — as we call it — can get to us to bring supplies and take other gear away, its way must be made by an ice cutter.
Right now, the U.S. Navy only has two ice cutters. (Although, Obama just requested funding for more.) The one that has served McMurdo is called the Polar Star. This vessel was originally built in the 1940s. It is the only ice breaker with a curved hull, rather than with a modular design that is made now. It was decommissioned for eight years before the Navy decided to refurbish it and make it sailable again.
The Polar Star spent over a week swimming around the McMurdo sound cutting its way through the ice. First, it was a speck on the horizon, then it was an orange speck on the horizon, then it was a loud lawn mower in our bay for a week.
It docked for just a couple of days and during that time, we were allowed to take tours of the ship.
Here are some photos:
Richard and the ice cutter.
Richard and the bridge.
The Polar Star and McMurdo Sound.
This is the tower where they run the boat when it’s breaking ice.
Me at the stern.
After the cutter left the wharf, it stayed in the Sound until both the vessel and the tanker — the boat that refuels the station with a year’s worth of diesel — left. While the ice was plenty open, the floe can move and the cutter has to hang out just in case the vessel or the tanker gets stuck in the wharf.
And to end, I give you…more penguins!!
Penguin!!Look how flexible his neck is! He was preening.
The building at McMurdo that houses all the science is called Albert P. Crary Science and Engineering Center. Albert P. Crary was a geophysicist and glaciologist and the first person to stand on both poles…at once! Just kidding.
The building is currently about 4,300 square-feet, but has plans to grow in the next decade.
The lab is now run by a woman named Bev Walker. She gave us our tour.
The entrance to the lab is lined with display cases showcasing some of the classic experiments and findings over the last 60 or so years at McMurdo. There are stuffed penguins and skua gulls. (The skuas and Adelie penguins have the same body size, although the penguins wings are much smaller and thicker than skuas.) The neighboring volcano, Mt. Erebus, often spews out lava bombs. They are collected when found. There are three skulls from Weddell, Ross and Crabeater seals. They each have differently shaped teeth and their skulls are slightly different in size. The crabeater teeth are the coolest. They look like flame silhouettes. (Sidetone: crabeater seals do not eat crabs. There are no crabs this far south. The seals eat fish, just like other seals.)
If you head down the hallway in Crary, you’ll find hundreds of posters detailing the findings of experiments done at McMurdo.
Here are some cool ones:
— Dry Valleys — This area was protected in 1992 as part of the Long-Term Ecological Research (LTER) Project under the National Science Foundation. It has been the site of ongoing aquatic and terrestrial studies ever since.
— Weddell seals — This is an old study from the 1960s, when the Weddell seal population monitoring began. That was the beginning. The study has continued and now we know more about this group of seals than almost any other animal population on earth.
— RAID — The need for Rapid Access Ice Drilling was realized after many years of ice core drilling in Antarctica. Traditional drilling takes years to harvest a single core from the surface to the bed rock. The rapid drilling will help in working through the known cores quickly, then switching drills once the really, really old ice and bed rock is reached.
Holding a lava bomb from Mt. Erebus. It was very light.
The primary elections have come and gone in New Hampshire, my chosen state, but I was still able to participate and exercise my right to vote, even from Antarctica.
While McMurdo is the United States, it is fairly common down here to feel out of the loop when it comes to news, pop culture and politics. Only the dedicated stay relevant, as it is very easy to just let the world revolve above us and without us.
But I am very interested in the results of this primary election cycle and, of course, the general election in November.
It was very important to me to make sure I was registered to vote before I came down to Antarctica. And that I had all the paperwork I would need to vote absentee in the event that I made it down here.
Many weeks ago, I mailed north my absentee ballot for the New Hampshire primary. While I cannot confirm that my ballot made it back to Leb, I have a good indication because some post cards I mailed at the same time arrived over a month ago. My ballot needed to be at the Town Hall building by 5 p.m. on Tuesday. I hope it was successfully delivered.
“Nobody will ever deprive the American people of the right to vote except the American people themselves and the only way they could do this is by not voting.” — F.D.R.
Please vote in your upcoming primaries. Regardless of the candidate or party you choose, this is your chance to participate in your government.
And, in case you’re sick of the election, may I recommend this:
While the summer season is starting to wind down, there are still opportunities to recreate. One day a couple of weeks ago, Richard and I both won the lottery to go out on the McMurdo Ice Shelf and play in the snow.
The trip is called Happy Camper. Although there is no overnight camping involved, the group goes to a spot where people are trained in winter camping. The spot is called Happy Camper, as well.
Our group met at 6 p.m. It had been snowing all day. The van ride out onto the ice shelf was slippery, but our driver was skilled and we made it out to the proper spot. From our parking spot along the ice road, we walked about 15 minutes north to Happy Camper. There was about 6 inches of fresh powder over the ice and it was still falling.
We got a few supplies out of the buildings at Happy Camper like a Scott Tent and shovels.
Our guides set up the tent, but Richard and I didn’t pay much attention. We got right to task: to build an igloo. While both Richard and I have spent many nights camping in snow either in tents or snow caves, neither of us had ever built an igloo.
Richard cut bricks of snow and I started piling them into a circular shape. Because my spiraling skills are rough, the igloo ended up being taller than me. I would imagine seasoned igloo builders would tell me that’s not the most efficient use of space. Also, it wasn’t until we dug down a couple of feet into the snow that the bricks really starting coming out with straight edges and really nice and compact. So, the foundation of our igloo was built with wonky shaped and rather small bricks.
Richard made bricks and I piled them for a couple of hours. Eventually, I got the top to come together. I filled in any holes with extra snow. And I manicured the interior a bit. I built a little table and carved out enough space for one person to sleep or two to sit.
While we were building the igloo, our group mates huddled in the Scott tent, helped with bricks or helped make hot cocoa.
It was a nice evening away from McMurdo, playing in the snow.
The hole above me is slowing getting filled in.
Richard piling on the finishing layers.
Richard inside the completed igloo. Or, as complete as we were going to take the time to get it.
The whole group standing by the igloo drinking lukewarm cocoa. The stove had some trouble burning, so the water had some trouble heating.
Because my work schedule is more restrictive than Richard’s, he comes over to eat lunch during my break. Most every day he is prompt and attentive to the time.
Sometimes, he’s with a patient and can’t come. Sometimes, he just forgets.
I usually try to page him if he isn’t on time to remind him.
On Thursday, he didn’t show up. I paged him. Nothing.
So, I went on with my meal and day and expected to see him later that afternoon.
When I got off work, I went back to our room to change for a run. The room was empty of Richard and some of his things were missing; backpack, Big Red parka, mountaineering boots.
Strange, I thought. After changing, I went over to the clinic to try to find him. His office was empty and strangely, no one else but Laura, the janitor, was around.
I eventually found Torri, the physician’s assistant. She told me that Richard made it onto a boondoggle trip for the day and he would be back sometime this afternoon.
“Oh, really,” I said. “Well, then I will stop worrying and start being jealous.”
A boondoggle is McMurdo-speak for an off-base trip with another group. It usually involves delivering or retrieving gear used by science groups, or helping them in some other way with their projects. Sometimes people dig holes in the snow or load and unload planes. Regardless, they are highly valued opportunities to experience a part of Antarctica that you certainly won’t get at McMurdo.
Here is Richard’s story of his boondoggle day:
“Saw three patients in the clinic, then got a call about a working boondoggle, and if anyone from medical would like to go… so I said yes, me.
By the time I sent a couple of other emails, I only had 20 minutes to put my contacts in, change and pack for the trip.
I got to the meeting spot and thought I had missed the shuttle since my watch said 10:02 a.m. and I was told to meet at 10.
I went in to medical and called fixed wing to tell them, then got two calls that I had not missed the shuttle, that it was right outside, but I had to go now, which I did.
So, we got dropped off at Willie Airfield and got on a DC3/Basler made in 1941 using 1930’s technology. Granted it had had a few upgrades, but flying on a plane made before the end of WWII seems a little odd. The plane was pretty much empty on the way to the Crary Ice Rise camp (a small camp on the Ross Ice Shelf, about halfway to the South Pole, almost due south of here, 2 hours by flying) except for the 4 seats for us boondogglers, the two pilots and the “stewardess.”
The “Stewardess” was more of a tech position since he didn’t do much stewardessing and spent most of his time loading and unloading the aircraft, fueling the aircraft, tying stuff down, etc., but the pilots would give him a hard time by calling him the stewardess.
After two hours of flying along the transantarctic mountains, we landed in a field camp in fairly deep snow, making good use of the skis. The landing was much smoother than I thought it would be… I guess I thought the snow would be more ridged and hardpacked.
After going up and down the runway a couple of times to pack it down for the takeoff, we parked near the remains of the camp to be extracted from the snow and loaded it up.
There were about a dozen empty 55-gallon fuel barrels on a large pallet, four sleds, two snowmobiles, some shovels and bamboo and wood scraps.
One of the pilots started up a snowmobile and drove it around. He then used it to pull the sleds out as we dug them out, one by one. It was interesting to watch him then drive the snowmobile up a ramp, into the plane, then up the plane (since the front of the DC3 is higher than the rear) to the front where it was then strapped down.
Then the rest of the stuff (sleds, bamboo, the other snowmobile, empty fuel drums) was loaded up. We attempted to load the oversize military pallet that the fuel barrels were on, but after using a shovel and a cargo strap to measure it, we just couldn’t see how to make it fit in the DC3 (it had come out on a larger LC-130).
So we dug a trench parallel to the predominant winds and put the big pallet (resembles a giant version of one of those insulated cookie sheets) sticking up in a verticle fashion. Then we got back on the plane and flew back to Willy field.
We saw two more ships out in the ice breaker path leading to McMurdo as we were about to land and I assumed that the second was the tanker, bringing all the fuel that the base will use for the next year, but later found out it was a cruise ship anchored to the ice edge (partly because the icebreaker was blocking the path to get to McMurdo) and that it was using unmanned aerial video (drones)… which is why the DC3 pilot didn’t fly us over the ice edge to look for whales and penguins. He couldn’t fly near the drones and risk it flying into one of the engines. I want to see penguins!
We got back to McMurdo just in time to eat dinner, then Stephanie and I went to the science lecture about rapid access ice drilling (or RAID).”
Propellors out the window of the DC3.Richard and the plane in the middle of the Ross Ice Shelf.Loading the plane.Observation Hill and the Willy Airfield on multi-year sea ice on the Ross Ice Shelf right by Ross Island.
On Saturday, Alastair Worsley died after being evacuated from Antarctica. He was 30 miles from completing his expedition of skiing across Antarctica in an unsupported expedition.
Worsley, 55, called his support team from his tent on Friday to tell him he was exhausted and could not complete his goal. As he said, he had “shot my bolt.” That was reference to Ernest Shackleton and how he described his exhaustion at the end of his South Pole attempt.
Worsley was also very likely out of food at the time of his call. Because of the nature of his goal, to be the first person to cross Antarctica without support (like food and supply drops), he had carried all his food for the 80-day mission since he started in November.
Although I cannot confirm this, I would assume that his team was unaware of how desperate his situation was when they picked him up off the ice and flew him to medical care in Punta Arenas, Chile. I also doubt whether Worsley knew how seriously his illness was.
Worsley ultimately died of peritonitis, an infection in the lining of the abdominal wall. While its effects were likely exascerbated by his extreme exhaustion, it may have been a condition that was unavoidable, and certainly, unpredictable.
To learn more about Worsley, here are some articles:
