Photo Journal

Since I've run out of superlatives to describe Antarctica, here is simply a photo journal from yesterday for you to enjoy.

Being left at Cape Bird

But we are not alone

New friends

Lots of little penguins with sweet backdrop

Somebody wants to know if we are penguins

Mean face upon learning we don't speak penguin

Oh yeah, we did some science too

Penguins playing hide and go seek

Complete coincidence since we didn't see Rachel

Taking wind readings next to our tower

Caves in icebergs, no big deal

Ross Island coastline

Entering the Dry Valleys

Canada glacier

Pancake ground (looks like pancake ice)

A maze of mountains

I really want to ski that left chute

All is back in order... (oh, and the most epic day)

Penguins making a run for safety

It was getting scary down here for awhile, but Frosty Boy is back in order.  Riots have (just nearly) been avoided.  Big Bertha (the dishwasher) did break after 20 years of service, but the mechanics have been working all night to get the new one installed tomorrow.  Internet in the dorms has been down the last few days due to an antenna blown over, but that has (kind of) been fixed.  I finally beat the demon Windows 3.1 software program controlling our weather stations (or at least for one of our sites) and have successfully recorded wind speeds from atop our tower.  We actually had some of the desired "specialized meteorology" for our research and collected blowing snow from our tower.  Rachel and I gave a joint talk (available online shortly) to the station last night and had a great turnout.  All in all, just the normal grind of Antarctica..... WRONG!  Today I received potentially the best birthday present (albeit 1 day early) anyone could hope for.  The last few days have been incredible, but their stories will have to wait for another post as I try to recap today's adventure (I apologize for the length, and will try to post solely a photo journal from today in the coming days).

PENGUIN!

Let's face it: you really came to my blog to hear about penguins and maybe a little about my life in Antarctica (e.g. when did I see the penguins, how many penguins, what was I wearing when I saw the penguins, etc.).  Thus, as you might expect, this epic day started with a visit to Cape Bird, aptly named for the local penguin rookery.  Our original plans called for installing one of our towers here due to the favourable winds.  However, you may recall that our recce flight discovered Cape Bird completely surrounded by open water, and we therefore had relocated to our Butter Point and Iceberg Sites.  Not wanting to miss potentially great data from the region (and of course penguin shoots), we had been plotting how we could return.  At last, Lars and the German Zealanders had empty seats on their scheduled trip to work on their BrO/ozone monitors there, and we quickly designed a mini snow-catching tower to setup on the beach.  Yes... beach, complete with softish rocks/sand, though still mostly covered in snow.  Due to bad weather, this flight had been cancelled nearly every day for over a week, but we all said our prayers, made our sacrifices to the spirit of Shackleton, and I left my penguin hat in the dorms (Rachel thought this was the curse).

Can that really be an efficient way to move?

There are 2 types of penguins down here: Emperors (the tall ones, like in Happy Feet) and Adelies (really awkward creatures who waddle when they walk).  You can tell the difference from a helicopter since the Emperors stand straight and tall, barely noticing you flying overhead.  Adelies think the world is coming to an end and make a B-line for the ocean.  Since they are generally in colonies of tens of thousands, this makes for quite the hilarious site.  The beaches near Cape Bird are all Adelie rookeries, so we got to witness the stampedes.  So far every time we've flown, the helicopter has shut down and stayed with us.  Today, the helo just dropped us on the beach as we exited with the blades still spinning.  It is quite the experience holding down all of your scientific equipment as the winds from the propellers bombard you.  We caught our breath for a few minutes and got to work.  Trying not to be distracted by the silly little creatures waddling and sliding on their bellies, we quickly installed our mini-tower on the rafted ice at the edge of the beach.  Penguins are generally quite curious and will come right up to you, checking to see if this other 2-legged thing is one of their kind (Why did I leave that hat in my room?!)  We had a few minutes for photos, but unfortunately (that might be the only time I use that word in this post), our return helo arrived 30 minutes early.  With the science complete, it was hard to convince them that we needed more time solely for fun with penguins.

Penguin tracks: half footprints/half tummy-print

We returned back to McMurdo, had a quick lunch, and then I drove the German Zealanders back to Scott Base.  I had time for a quick goodbye to Udo (he leaves today), and then it was back to the helipad for our afternoon flight.  Per usual, we first stopped at our Butter Point Site.  Here, we found a shocking discovery, but you will to have to check out the IceKid yourself to see what we found (see links on top left of page).  Although the demon (i.e. weather station) beat me here, I got the best of him at the Iceberg Site.  Our tower at the Iceberg now has a new visitor, a seal who has taken up residency right next door.  We introduced ourselves, completed our science, and then packed up.  As we were leaving, our pilot mentioned that we needed to refuel at Marble Pt.  Having done this a few prior times, I was confused when we started heading further north than usual and at a higher elevation.  Upon reaching 6,000 ft, we finally enquired.  He showed us that from this vantage point we could see into the Dry Valleys (another B-day present).

First glimpse of the Dry Valleys

Now the Dry Valleys are one of Antarctica's most treasured landscapes, one of the world's most extreme landscapes, and shockingly mainly snow-free with jagged mountains, rivers, and frozen lakes (if you are at Dartmouth, you should ask Ross Virginia for more info).  We were totally psyched to get a glimpse into this unique landscape, as there is no scientific reason for us to land in this heavily protected area.  We then refuelled at Marble and then headed home.... but wait!  This epic day can't end yet.  Over the radio, we received a request to pick up a generator and fuel from a lake in the Dry Valleys and deliver it to a nearby field camp.  Reading our minds, our pilot didn't wait to ask us, and we were treated to some of the most spectacular views I have ever seen.  I don't think I would ever become bored of running helo errands in the Dry Valleys.

After such a day, the evening was quite relaxed, although it included a farewell party for someone leaving station and a travel talk about Cuba by another friend. If you made it this far, thanks for letting me crudely put into words the adventures from today.  Hopefully the photo diary in my next post will help share some of these stories with you.  No need to get me a birthday present tomorrow, I already had the best one I could ask for.
Oh, and I saw 6,843 penguins (although only a handful up close) today at Cape Bird and I was wearing bunny boots, two pairs of snowpants, Big Red, flannel shirt, and my Red Sox t-shirt.

Dry Valleys, McMurdo

Sweet glacier in the Dry Valleys

Eating in Antarctica

How Rachel treats her grad students

As you probably know, I think food is an excellent motivator.  Although I've touched on it briefly, I think it's only fair that I have an entire blog post dedicated to eating in Antarctica.  Plus, even if you don't work outside all day, there's no reason you shouldn't be taking in your 6,000 calories a day (I think we all gain weight down here).  Before getting into the details, I should first mention that I've eaten real well and have surprisingly enjoyed the food here immensely.  Since it would be kind of creepy if I went around taking photos in the galley (cafeteria),  for this post I will just use random, completely unrelated photos from today's visit to our field sites.  Thus, for all of you who only look at my photos and don't read the text, you will be very confused by the title of this post.  Though there was some taste sampling of snow today....

We caught snow!

Breakfast: I think I mentioned before it only runs until 7:30.  When I first arrived, I used to ensure I woke up just in time to make it by 7:25.  However, I then came to the incredible discovery that cereal and granola are available anytime of the day.  As that is my general go-to breakfast anyways, I have gladly taken the extra hour or so of sleep, and let our helicopter time dictate when I get up in the morning. 

Lunch: For every meal, there are several stations.  For lunch there is always a sandwich station with a daily meat and veggie selection.  For both lunch and dinner, you always have the choice of two soups.  The hot dishes rotate with a lot of overlap between dinner selections.  If you happen to be in the field during lunch, you can request a bag lunch, consisting of 1 veggie/meat sandwich, 1 PB&J sandwich, 1 bag chips, 1 snack, 1 juicebox, and a dessert (you will not go hungry).  The one speciality lunch each week is "Wednesday Mexican Cookie Day."  The title is kind of misleading because there are no Mexican cookies.  However, someone once decided Mexican food and cookies should go together and it just stuck.  Mexican food is self-explanatory.  Cookies in McMurdo though are not.  Before the big crowds arrived this week, one of my friends had helped baking one day.  He told me they baked about 2,000 cookies for Wednesday lunch.  Amazingly, each one is absolutely incredible and there is a selection of a dozen different varieties (chocolate chip, double chocolate, butterscotch chip, mint chocolate, sugar, butter, oatmeal, pecan, etc.). Since the population here has now surpassed 850, I believe the cookie count is now over 3,000.  In addition, work crews can request cookies on Wed for their job sites.  The odds would seem to be in your favor.   Yet, if you show up towards the end of lunch on Wed, you are just left with the crumbs of the oatmeal or pecan cookies.  Although frowned upon, quite a few people take a plate full and stockpile them in their rooms.  The cookies are that good.

Measuring snow depths

Dinner: Whenever a C-17 plane arrives, you can sense the excitement in the dining hall the next day: fresh veggies, fruit that is not frozen (maybe even a banana), etc.  The longest line these days is for the salad bar, which is a bit of stretch to call a "bar."  A typically salad bar might be lettuce, celery, and tomatoes or lettuce, mushrooms, and croutons.  Recently though, we have had bell peppers and twice have had cucumbers thanks to some good weather.  Nevertheless, I was expecting conditions like Barrow, and am amazed to have any salad bar at all.  There is quite the selection of hot dishes (and always a veggie choice) and sides, nearly all of which I enjoy (except after a stretch of bad weather when the best choice becomes tuna casserole).  I think my only disappointment is in the hot sauce selection, particularly considering the type of people here.  It is either Sriracha (which I'm not a huge fan of for most dishes) or a Louisiana Hot Sauce (that is mediocre at best).  One day, there was 1 bottle of Frank, but he disappeared quickly.  Oh well.  Frank will be waiting for me when I get home.

Fuel stop at Marble Point

Dessert: I was never a big dessert person and used to rarely eat dessert with dinner.  McMurdo has definitely changed that.  Lunch and dinner each have a selection of 2 incredible choices.  In addition, there is (usually) always Frosty Boy.  The station though is in near panic mode though this week because something happened to the refrigeration unit of Frosty Boy and he has now been out of commission for 4 consecutive days.  It is actually quite humorous to sit next to Frosty Boy and watch newbies try to make him work.  If you sit down at a random table, there is a 50% chance that the loss of Frosty Boy is the topic of conversation.  I know the mechanics are working on it, but if you hear about any riots down here, you will know why.     

Sweet caves in an iceberg

Special Meals: There are a few secrets that the galley offers each week which are not advertised and are only known to season veterans.  Thankfully I've now been clued in.  Thursdays at 10am there are the most incredible buttermilk biscuits served with a tub of butter.  I'm not a biscuit person, but these melt in your mouth and are worth putting work on hold for.  Just yesterday though, I found out about Saturday 3pm pizza break, but I've yet to make it to one.  Saturday dinners are special since you are allowed to bring beer/wine (of course the Kiwis at Scott Base have BYOB every night).  Holidays are also supposedly quite special here, but we will be home by then.    

Where to Sit: It's a bit like middle school.  You get your tray full of food and then look out to the abyss desperately seeking friends.  Generally, people sit with the same people on their work crews.  It differs from middle school though in that everyone is friendly and it is socially acceptable to sit with anyone, despite their ranking on station.  When we first arrived, it was quite easy since most of the tables were empty.  However, it is slowly getting to the point where it is hard to find an empty seat (nevertheless table) if you arrive during popular times.

Everyone agrees you will not lose any weight eating in McMurdo!  If you are self-conscious though, you have the built-in excuse of BigRed (the ridiculous large Red Parka) to explain any extra weight when you step on a scale, which we do daily for flying on the helos.  Personally, I've now gotten used to my flight weight of 212 lbs....WOW (although it does include all of my ECW, equipment I have tucked away in pockets, etc.). 

Journal Entries

As this is my first time blogging, I've been having fun experimenting with different ways of sharing this incredible experience with you all.  On that subject, I've now added a Q&A page.  If you have any questions about what life is like here, our research, or anything else, feel free to post and I'll try to answer as soon as possible.  Since I have left you all hanging the last few days, I'll try catching you up in a more journal-like play-by-play manner.  Note that I am going to use days of the week (and not actual dates) for the following reasons:
1) I've realized calendars and dates are a completely man-made concept.
2) I now have blog readers from all 7 continents.
3) The time difference to VT gets quite confusing... Football Mondays, wtf?
4) It never gets dark here anymore so it is hard to tell when days actually end.

Wednesday

Drilling a sea ice core

Recording temperature profile of core

Today we helicoptered to both of our sites to collect samples.  Since we have been having the Antarctic equivalent of Florida weather (Sunny, no wind, with a high of 5 degrees F), our baskets were empty.  However, we had yet to take a sea ice core from our Iceberg site, so that was the plan for the afternoon.  McMurdo has a "Morale Trip" system where we as scientists can take out volunteers from the station so they can get out and lend a hand, learn some science, and enjoy the incredible scenery.  Today, we took our first volunteer, Michael, who was eager to lend a hand as we drilled our core.  Since the ice is over 3 ft thick, we have to drill in 2 sections.  Michael helped with the 1st half, but then we told him he could join the pilots on a walk around the Iceberg to appreciate the beauty as Rachel and I did the 2nd half.... and then DISASTER struck!  The bottom of the core was quite slushy, and it started going in at a slight angle.  However, it was enough such that we were unable to pull the core barrel out of the hole.  oops.  We tried the drill, but no such luck (the drill doesn't spin in reverse).  We tried by hand (even adding extended lever arms).  We even tried lying down and leg pressing it out (after hearing friends use that technique in Greenland).  No dice.  After hacking with ice-axes for an hour, we had to admit defeat for the day.  Nothing quite like calling McMurdo on the radio (with all the big bosses listening), "MacOps, MacOps, this is Project O-263.  Yes, thanks for the fancy ice corer, but it's kinda stuck in the ice right now.  We know environmental regulations don't even allow leaving bread crumbs or pee on the sea ice, but hopefully penguins like ice corers? Over."

Thursday
Today we were forced (self-imposed) to sit in time-out in our lab and not fly on the helos.  I spent the day playing with GIS making pretty maps of our field sites and proposed drilling sites.  Due to budget cuts, there are only 3 computers on station that have Arcmap: one for the surveyors, one for the field safety crew, and one for public use that runs about as quickly as a scientist wearing his ECW and bunny boots.  It had been awhile since I played with Arcmap so I probably spent 3 times longer than necessary, but at least the maps eventually came out pretty.  We celebrated the small successes in life by heading over to Scott Base to have a welcome dinner with our German/Kiwi colleagues (Johannes and Udo recently arrived to join Tim and Denis). 

Friday
We recovered the corer stuck in the ice!  And by "we," I mean one of the gear guys who came along and spent 3 hours hacking out a hole around the corer 3 feet deep while Rachel and I drilled a new core.  Thanks Solomon (who turned out to be a friend of Lilly Corenthal... small world).  Good day in the field.

Intrepid Antarctic explorers checking out an iceberg

Cracks in the ice

Saturday
Today I planned to sleep in.  However, at 8:30 I awoke to a phone call from Rachel, letting me know that we were leaving in 1 hr for Cape Evans (12 miles away) with Lars, Tom, Tim, Denis, and Johannes (Udo, or maybe his instrument, was misbehaving so we left him to fix it by himself).  Quickly I rushed through the 30-min process of dressing oneself, threw together my person bag, and ran out to gather our scientific equipment and survival gear.  Mode of transportation would be a piston bully (PB), the standard for short journeys over sea ice with lots of gear.  A PB makes a sloth seem fast, and thus we expected to arrive at the BrO monitoring site 2 hours later.  After some packing delays and realizing we needed to refuel the PB, we pulled out of McMurdo around 10:45.  After a "speedy" 15 minutes (traveling maybe 2 miles), we notice our PB was struggling (even beyond its normal standard), so we returned back home to bring it to the shop.  Sweet, lunch time and nothing accomplished as of yet.  Thankfully, we were able to track down another PB from some friends and actually left McMurdo close to 1pm.  After arriving around 3pm, the German Zealanders went to work on their instruments while Rachel and I started coring and taking snow samples.  Turns out our corer didn't enjoy the bumpy ride on the PB and the top cap (with all of its tiny screws) had come apart.  Nothing quite like making mechanical repairs with tiny screws and small metal parts in the cold.  Nevertheless, we persevered and retrieved a beautiful core.  After a little bit of time to take in the sites (rrrr..... NO PENGUINS!  We saw tons of tracks and guano since this is one of their favorite sites, but they seem to hide from us), we returned just in time for the end of dinner (Saturday night you are allowed to take wine to dinner, so you don't want to miss out).

Sunday

Diana and I enjoying cross-country skiing in Antarctica

Black flags mark crevasses... watch out

Sundays are the day of "rest" at McMurdo since it is the only day off for most of the crew.  A few people kick back with a bottle of wine and enjoy a movie.  However, this is McMurdo and very few people are normal.  Thus, despite subzero temps, unheard of windchills, and lots of ice, people generally go out and play (provided the weather is Con-1).  I was easily convinced (plus, we are having ridiculously nice weather as mentioned above) to join a ski-trip leaving at 7:30 am in order to make it back in time for Sunday brunch.  The plan was to skate-ski the Castle Rock loop, the longest recreation trail.  Turns out that since I had been skate-skiing once (Thanks, Meira!), I was the 2nd most experienced person in the group, and 2 of the 5 of us had never been on any type of skis before (notice how this doesn't stop anyone from joining a 5 hour ski trip).  After a valiant effort and a broken pole (replaced by a bamboo flag), the 2 newbies decided walking was faster, but were still able to complete the loop with us.  Most of the trail is relatively flat.  However, the 2nd half of the trail was a little sketchy since it involved some serious descents on icy terrain (Antarctic is a desert and has very little snow).  Rachel actually found it better to sit down and slide on her skis.  They kindly mark any known crevasses near the trail with black flags, but you can't see them because they are covered in thin layers of snow.  Heading down steep slopes on flimsy cross-country skis with no metal edges with black flags around is quite the experience.  The map of the trail even indicates where people have died (as a reminder not to venture off the red flagged routes).  Thankfully, we made it back 5 minutes before the end of brunch, where we scarfed an incredible feast.  I then played a little volleyball for an hour or two before crashing early to wake up in time for Monday's scheduled helo trip.

Top Tens

Where has the time gone?  With the approach of summer, new people are showing up all the time here, and a common question is when did you arrive.  I usually answer, "I came on the first flight main-body.... you know, a few days ago."  Somehow, a few days has now turned in 18, so my answer is not quite accurate anymore.  Wow.  I feel I have been here long enough though to come up with top 10 lists for the good and bad at McMurdo. (Note: both lists are in no particular order)

TOP 10

My stash for field work

Touch tank... watch out for scary orange spider

1) The #1 rule of the Arctic/Antarctic (courtesy of Don): Eat as much as you can, whenever you can.  I don't go into the field without my pockets overflowing with chocolate.  They say you need 6,000 calories a day just to maintain your energy/weight if you are out working on the ice all day.  SWEET! 
2) The scenery:  Photos never do it justice, but hopefully I've been able to share at least a glimmer of what it is like. Unlike anything I've ever seen before.
3) The people: As they say down here, "You don't need to be crazy to work at McMurdo.  We'll train you."  Just the way I like it.... Overall, some of the most interesting, kindest, helpful, and fun people I know.  You don't come here for the creature comforts.  
4) No cell phones: Oh it's lovely, but I do always feel like I'm forgetting something when I leave my room without my keys/cellphone/wallet.
5) Seals: How can you argue with those photos?
6) The weather, particularly the snow: Well maybe that one is just me since I melt when it gets above 65 (and there is actually not that much snow).  However, we didn't have winter last year in VT.  I was seriously suffering from withdrawal.
7) The lifestyle: Someone to cook all 3 meals for me a day.  No chores.  No real credit card bills.  Kind of like college all over again.
8) Frosty Boy: I'm not a huge dessert person, but it's part of the experience.  Huge lunch with chocolate cake and brownies?  Still need Frosty Boy for 2nd round of desserts.  Dinner with pie and pudding?  Soft serve can top that off too.  Breakfast?  I've seen him there.  When Frosty Boy breaks for a few hours, I swear there are near riots in the dinning hall.  How else can you get those 6,000 calories?
9) So much science: We are still early season, but there are already so many incredible projects going on.  Scientists studying seal population dynamics, volcanic eruptions, penguins, climate change, sea urchins, sea ice physics, astronomy, atmospheric chemistry, etc.  Nonstop conversations with some of the most brilliant people in the world.  My favorite is the petting zoo/touch tank aquarium with some of the strange gigantic marine life that lives here, except for the gigantic (8-10 inch) orange water spider... he is not my friend.
10) The experience: I'm in friekin Antarctica!  I thought this was the coolest place on Earth ever since 4th grade when I found my name on the world atlas.

NOT-SO TOP 10 
1) Getting dressed/undressed: The 30-minute process of dressing and redressing yourself gets quite tiring.  Being inside for even 2 min and you roast to death under all those layers.  Do work outside and you sweat.  Take a break and the sweat freezes.  Burn in the sun while shivering in the wind.  No matter what you do, you are a "thermal idiot."
2) Doing things in mittens: Sucks

Trying to (kinda watch) the one Pats game that we've had

He is actually Top 10, but wouldn't look for photoshoot

3) Breakfast: I love the dining hall and admire those folks dearly.  But seriously, breakfast from 5:30-7:30?  I am not a morning person.
4) Crevasses: Yeah, I don't care to fall into one of those. 
5) Beer selection: It says something when Milwaukee's Best is the "quality" beer choice.  Thankfully the Kiwi's have a better selection at Scott Base.
6) Mother may I?: It seems you need permission for everything here, particularly if you want to step food outside.  Safety is important and you understand why, but there can be a bit of a "Big Brother" feel to it.  We spent hours/days on the paperwork just to collaborate with our colleagues at Scott Base.
7) Nearly no sports (on TV):  Considering the (lack of) success for the Red Sox and my fantasy teams, this might be a good thing.  However, I do miss football season. 
8) Getting shocked all the time: Gets real old, real quick.  Since it is so dry, charge builds up very quickly and you feel it every time you touch anything metal.
9) The (good) weather: I have the curse of the good weather (if such a thing exists).  My research wants the nastiest, windiest, snowiest weather there is.  So far (and last winter in Alaska and during testing in VT) the winds have been dead.   When it does get windy, the helicopters won't fly.  Ugh.
10) Breathing, seeing, and not getting frost bite...only allowed to choose 2: Another one of Don's sayings.  Thankfully this is only true on the worst days, which we haven't really experienced so far (although was very true in Barrow, AK).

Let's talk science

I am frequently asked what do I study by a variety of people, and I try to answer this in a variety of ways depending upon the circumstances.  Science communication is an important skill, and I consider it part of my roll as a scientist to explain difficult concepts to the general public, such as my sister who wants to know where her tax dollars go (mind you 0.2% of the federal budget is spent on science).  It is helpful to have everything from a 2 word description to a full presentation about your research ready at anytime.  Particularly here in McMurdo, where there are 900 people supporting 37 science projects, there is a lot of curiosity about our work.  Here is what I answer (choose your category carefully...):

Technical abstract (for the scientist):

Polar tropospheric ozone depletion events (ODE) are an early springtime phenomena strongly correlated with increased concentrations of reactive bromine gases (BrO and Br), whereby Br serves as a catalysis in the breakdown of ozone into oxygen through a series of photochemical and heterogeneous reactions. This process involves the autocatalytic production of reactive bromine from bromide ions originating in the ocean, in what is termed the "bromine explosion." During an ODE, atmospheric oxidation potentials can be altered, with unique halogen oxidation pathways dominating atmospheric chemistry, resulting in consequences such as the depletion of gaseous mercury and subsequent mercury deposition in polar regions.  However, the mechanism by which Br enters the troposphere is not well understood. Sea ice is known to play a critical role in mediating the exchange of heat, gases, and chemical species across the ocean-atmosphere interface. This research focuses on the transport of Br, which originates in sea water and is hypothesized to enter the atmosphere via blowing snow over first year sea ice. Using ion chromatography, x-ray micro-computed tomography, synchrotron x-ray micro-fluorescence, and scanning electron microscopy, we aim to identify the microstructural and stratigraphic location of Br and other salts in the snow and ice. Knowing whether these salts exist at grain boundaries or deeper within the crystal lattice helps assess the potential that blowing snow can loft Br into the atmosphere.  With the ratio of first-year to multi-year sea ice increasing with climate change, understanding this mechanism is critical for assessing the impact of ODEs on future atmospheric chemistry.

What that last paragraph actually said (for the layperson):

Catching blowing snow

During springtime (March in the north, Sept/Oct in the south), you often hear about the ozone hole in the upper atmosphere.  A similar phenomenon occurs with the (much smaller amount of) ozone in the lower atmosphere, or troposphere.  Salts from the ocean, such as bromine, get up into the atmosphere and help breakdown ozone into oxygen.  Since only a small amount of bromine is needed to breakdown a lot of ozone, it is called the "bromine explosion." However, we don't really know the mechanism by which bromine enters the atmosphere.  We do know that it requires really cold temperatures (lots of new sea ice) and sunlight (to kick-start the reaction), and hence only occurs during the first couple weeks of spring.  To track the transport of bromine, I collect cores from the sea ice, snow lying on the ice, and samples of the blowing snow.  We then measure the concentrations of the different salts in our samples and even take CaT scans of our ice to get a full 3-D picture of the ice microstructure.  Since these ozone depletion events occur over first-year sea ice and climate change will result in more first-year sea ice, it is important to understand this process to predict the future implications for atmospheric chemistry. 

In two sentences (elevator speech):
I study how bromine (a salt in the ocean like chlorine or iodine) gets from the ocean up into the atmosphere, where it contributes to ozone depletion.  Since we don't really know how the bromine gets into the atmosphere, I analyze sea ice cores and blowing snow to measure the amounts of different salts in my samples.   

When I try to explain it in a different language/sign language:
Bromine from ocean into air.  Lots of sea ice and flying snow.  Bye-bye ozone.

In two words:
I study snow and ice


If you are down this far, you are probably just looking for seal photos:

Weather, Iceberg, Food, and Seals? ... no connections, just losing my coherency

When the weather's nice, the view is great

Probably the hardest thing about this blog is deciding which pictures to post (as I really would like to share them all).  At some point I may just do an entry of all photos.  My words are usually just random ramblings and I know it's just the pictures (particularly Rachel's) that you want anyways.  However, while I have the captive audience, I'll try to share some fun stories along the way (but no promise that there is a logical train of thought).  One thing that I have learned working in polar environments is that weather is the ultimate dictator in any decisions.  Example #1 Me: I think I will go visit my colleagues at Scott Base.  Weather: I will obliterate the road in fog and snow.  Example #2 Me: I want to tie my shoes, so I think I will remove my mittens.  Weather: I will frostbite your fingers, then sunburn your face for removing your goggles, and windburn your cheeks to make sure you don't do it again.  Example #3 Me: I think I will take a helicopter to visit my science sites.  Weather: I will remove all visibility so the helos can't fly, and then send howling winds for good measure.  From these experiences, we have learned to take helo rides whenever we can, even last minute.  We are indeed quite lucky that we had 2 nice days this week to deploy both towers, despite being unable to revisit them as of yet. 

Our pilot (lower right) dwarfed by (Ross) Iceberg

The sites have now been named Butter Point (after the nearest point of land) and Iceberg (you should be able to figure this one out on your own).  In preparation for the Iceberg deployment, I had checked the weather prior to venturing out, just like a good polar scientist.  With temps around 5 degrees (ABOVE 0 deg F) and not much wind, I was confused to find that the current wind chill was "out of range."  Then I discovered that it actually meant that you are pathetic for wondering about the wind chill with temps that frieken warm and winds only suitable for flying a kite.  Oh well.

Happy after anchoring down Butter Pt tower

We are now soliciting names for the Iceberg at our site.  Please post any suggestions.  On the subject of names, it is quite flattering that everything here is named after me (sorry Ross Virginia if this is your 19th trip and sorry Captain James Clark Ross who located magnetic North and charted much of the Antarctic coastline).  I was challenged recently to see how many times I could use "Ross" in the description of the Iceberg site.  Here is my answer, "Our 2nd site is located in the Ross Sea, halfway between Cape Ross and Ross Island, with views of the Ross Ice Shelf."  Hence, I think the Ross Iceberg might be a little redundant?

Freshies!

Puppy Chow

We haven't been able to return back to our sites yet, so I spent a good part of today making maps using GIS.  We've also had great opportunities to network with other colleagues, in particular 2 guys here at McMurdo (Lars and Tom) and guys at Scott base (Denis and Tim... and soon Udo and Johannes).  After nearly 2 weeks, I'm starting to become accustomed to life in Antarctica, and already wishing I could stay longer.  There are indeed a few oddities that you need to get used to.  As you might imagine, we lack for fresh fruits and vegetables.  When a flight from Christchurch lands (which has been rare recently due to the weather), it generally means fresh food.  The most exciting shipments are those with green things, otherwise known as "freshies."  The day Lars and Tom arrived was really exciting because I think it was the first delivery of freshies since the end of August.  I don't think I've ever seen a line so long for spinach.  Social dynamics in the dining hall are in general quite interesting, since everyone on station eats there.  Clearly certain things are more coveted than others, and they definitely don't lack for desserts (always a wide selection at every meal).  One such example is "Frosty Boy," a soft-serve (vanilla) ice cream machine that is always available and quite delicious.  A personal favorite is "Puppy Chow" that indeeds looks like something for your dog, but is actually a cheerios/chocolate/peanut butter/powdered sugar yumminess.  Since it is getting pretty late tonight, I will be completely random (like my mood and this blog post) and leave you with the cutest seal who lives near our site:

Seal near our Iceberg

Deployment Mission(s): Complete

Weddell seal enjoying the sunshine

Dear regular blog readers,
I apologize for leaving you hanging the last couple of days.  It has been non-stop go recently as we have been trying to deploy our two towers.  Since my project summary blog post has yet to be written, suffice it for now that my goal is to collect blowing snow (which Antarctica is kind enough to supply with ample quantities).  Where to begin?  So much has happened (this is a good thing) except for sleep (this is a bad thing).  I've also realized that I will be unable to cover everything in one post.  Thus, I plan to spend the next few days organizing pictures, remembering stories, and catching you all up to date.  Let's start with the fun stuff first.... we saw our first Antarctic wildlife!   

Scoping the Ross hiking trail system

Rachel and I went for a short walk down to Hut Point, so named after the historical hut still standing that had been built by the Antarctic explorer Robert Scott and his team during their 1901-1904 expedition.  Enjoying the views from the top of the cliffs, we then looked down only to see nearly a dozen seals lying out on the sea ice.  The ice near the point is quite fractured, providing multiple breathing holes for the seals.  The seals enjoy taking naps out on the ice and waving to scientists.  After quite some time, the wind drove us away and I decided to take an adventure in the opposite direction.  Separating the New Zealand base (Scott Base) with McMurdo Station is Observation Hill (Ob Hill).  To prevent everyone here from going crazy (scratch that... we already are, and in fact they sell t-shirts stating so), there is a trail system for hiking/skiing in the area, with one path going straight up Ob Hill.  I took an evening hike up and was reward with incredible 360 degree views of Ross Island, our volcano Mt Erebus, and Ross Sea (more pictures coming).  Enough recreation... onto science.

Our original site is better for swimming

Pancake ice (yes, that's the scientific name)

One of the sweet benefits of our project is that it requires helicopter access to reach our 2 field sites.  The original plan was for Site 1 to be somewhere near Cape Bird, which was chosen after Rachel's careful analysis of the prevailing winds (and the fact that there is a penguin colony nearby).  Our helo ride was a breath-taking trip, passing right by Mt. Erebus, vast snow fields, and menacing crevasses.  We flew to the north side of Ross Island and excitedly looked down.  However, rather than spotting the sparking white expanse of sea ice, we realized we should have brought the bathing suits as the entire bay was open water.  As we circled Cape Bird, we sadly realized that there was no solid sea ice to play on, nevertheless land a helicopter.  Do not be alarmed (I know you were) that this is all due to global warming.  Rather, it is primarily a result of movement of a large (the world's largest) iceberg that had been blocking the Ross Sea for the last decade, keeping lots of sea ice near McMurdo.  We had been forewarned though, and were prepared with plan B.  We then flew along the ice edge across McMurdo Sound towards Marble Point.  We stopped several miles offshore of a lovely place called Butter Point that satisfied our site requirements.  Long at last, we erected our first tower complete with the Ice Kid keeping a watchful eye.  The Ice Kid even captured tower setup, which John has converted into a fun movie (available soon at stores near you and from this blog, but temporarily findable from my facebook page).  Anchoring the tower and the Ice Kid required all hands (our field/ice safety specialist, the pilot, the helo-technician, Rachel, and I) as we had to make some last minute adjustments.   Nonetheless, it was an excellent mission, and as the Ice Kid shows, our tower is now successfully collecting blowing snow.

Site 1: Butter Point

Beautiful valley south of site 2

Sweet iceberg next to tower 2

Completely exhausted, we returned to our dorms with the assumption we would do sea ice training Thursday and deploy the second tower Friday.  Surprise!  This is Antarctica and plans are always fluid.  If you are given helo time, you take it because you never know when the weather is going to change.  An email informed us that we were going to setup tower 2 on Thursday, immediately following our training.  I ran back to the lab, unpacked and repacked all of the equipment, and caught a few hours of sleep.  Today's sea ice training was fun, but could not compete with the joys of the afternoon deployment.  Once again we had a magnificent helo ride out to our new site, north of Butter Point towards a place called Cape Roberts.  After a great recommendation from the pilot, we decided to setup alongside an enormous iceberg that would block westerly (continental/non-sea-ice) winds.  This setup went a little faster as we had more ice screws and we now were all seasoned experts in blowing snow tower deployments.  The site (particularly the iceberg that must be over 100 ft tall) is absolutely stunning, and I promise more photos will be forthcoming.  However, just as we were finishing up (and before we took our photos), we received word on the radios that a storm was coming.  Very kindly, the pilots encouraged us to finish up now and get into the helo.  By Murphy's law, this was also when a crimp decided to break, dropping the mast of the tower.  I begged for another 7 minutes and was able to give it a quick fix, so tower 2 is now successfully deployed.  The ride back to McMurdo was highlighted when we overheard the pilots say, "This is going to be interesting" and "I think I'll just close my eyes."  However, based on the smoothness of the landing, you would never have known there were any winds.  As it turned out, the storm hasn't quite materialized yet, and we arrived with plenty of time.  We thus were able to enjoy the evening, knowing that our 2 towers are out there ready to collect all of that blowing snow!

Where is that sea ice?  I just see open water

Totally stoked on my helicopter ride

The Ice Kid catches us in action

Setting up the tower with helo in the background