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Sunday, November 11, 2012

All good things must come to an end

Dudes...?  ahhh! Headless penguins are after me!
Sadly that dreaded day has arrived when I must say goodbye to this incredible continent 3,712 photos, 6 weeks, and a lifetime worth of memories later.  This will be my final post from Antarctica as our flight leaves in about an hour.  The last few days have been bittersweet taking down our equipment from the field, packing it all up, and saying goodbye to some wonderful people.  I wish them all a fabulous rest of the season. 

Yesterday we were sure to make our final full day down here epic as we returned to the sea ice edge via snowmobile to collect some final samples.  We were not disappointed as we saw emperor penguins, adelie penguins, seals, the sea ice edge, and the ice cave once again.  As I wrap up my thoughts, I'll include a few photos from the trip (you have to come visit me back in VT if you would like the rest).  I think I will conclude with a few lessons I learned from Antarctica:

Our geyser created a swimming pool!
- Weather dictates everything in the poles: when do you go, where do you go, what do you do, how do you do it, etc.  Despite valiant efforts, forecasts down here make those back home seem precise. 
- Antarctica is perhaps the most majestic, gorgeous, breathtaking, (fill in the blank with your favorite adjective) continent.
- Penguins are ridiculous creatures.  Emperors are incredibly curious, while God forgot to teach Adelies how to walk.
- Human ingenuity is unbelievable.  I don't think Shackleton, Scott, or Amundsen would have ever considered it a possibility that humans would establish a permanent base on this continent.
- Antarctic is not a harsh continent.  When it comes to temperature, wind chill, and just plain misery, I was expecting much worse.  The coldest temps I've witnessed is still in Barrow.  Often good old VT suffers temperatures colder than the average day I experienced here.
- Antarctic is a harsh continent.  Conditions can change in a blink of an eye.  Before you know it, visibility can drop to nothing.  Someday I hope to be back for winter to experience the real extreme weather.
- 24 hours of daylight is a strange phenomenon. I had forgotten to mention that we crossed that threshold at the end of October.  The weather report here always lists time of sunset.  Next one here is Feb 23.
Can we join your penguin line?
- The crew down here is incredible.  I don't think I will ever experience a place where there are 900 people supporting 140 scientists.  In only a few weeks, I made some really great friends with whom I will hopefully reconnect on another campaign in the near future.
- It is possible to run out of positive adjectives/descriptors.
- Land is for sissies. - Rachel
- Commuting by helicopter to work is not too shabby... provided the weather cooperates.
- I need to find a way to come back here.
 
Finally, thank you all for following this blog.  I never thought I would be able to pull this together nor have over 2,000 hits.  Although I have completely fallen behind on photos, it has been a good way to keep up and reflect.  There are many more tales that I didn't have the time to get online, so please come visit me in VT for the full stories. 

Until my next polar adventure....  


Wednesday, November 7, 2012

"You've been here too long"


Please don't make me leave
Everyday now it seems more and more people are poring into McMurdo.  With most of the crew already on station, the new folks are generally scientists who had waited for warmer weather.  You can tell who these newbies are because they are the ones bundled up as if hell actually did freeze over.  I was on the way to the gym wearing simply shorts and a down jacket, when I heard one of these Michelin men shout at me, "You've been here too long."  Personally, I thought the day was quite nice with temps around 8 degrees and a windchill of -9 F.  They'll learn soon enough...  I can't believe the end to this dream is so close.  Monday (only a few days away!) is the scheduled leaving day, weather permitting.  Most of station has now joined in the joke regarding weather and our research.  We'll sit around at a meal complaining about the weather, when I realize I'm the only one wanting windier conditions.  With sunshine here day after day, people have started simply mocking us as we pass by.  They might wish, "Hope the weather's awful tomorrow," but their sarcasm is not well hidden. With our luck, it is no surprise that the next big storm is forecasted for Sun/Mon.

Artifacts inside Scott's Hut
A few night ago, I had the sweet opportunity to go inside Discovery Hut build by Robert Scott in 1902, located right near McMurdo.  This is the original hut that Scott's expedition built and used, and contains many artifacts (even seal blubber!) from earlier expeditions.  The Antarctic Heritage Trust preserves this and several other huts from Scott/Shackleton through the Antarctic Treaty. 

Monday we took two marine biologists with us as we retrieved two ice cores relatively close to Scott Base.  Kendra and Heather are planning on taking their own ice cores shortly, and were looking to gain some experience with us.  The sites were chosen to coincide with where the German Zealanders have been measuring atmospheric gases near their base.  The first core was pretty uneventful, and Kendra/Heather probably thought we actually knew what we were doing.  It didn't take us long though to erase that illusion.  Within the next hour, we had a broken drill, bent flights (extension poles for the corer), frozen and stuck connection pieces, flipped a snowmobile, and created a geyser/swimming pool.  The first three are pretty standard as it is a constant fight trying to use a Kovacs corer in the cold with a badger drill, the fourth is my own stupidity when I tried to exchange the drill, and the last was friekin awesome.  

Penguins up close and personal
The site for the 2nd core was on multi-year ice (ice that does not melt out during the summer), our first time not on first-year sea ice.  One of the downsides of coring multi-year ice is that there is a quite a bit of snow on top, on the order of 4-5 feet.  While I returned the frozen drill, Rachel and the marine biologists shovelled away down to the sea ice, creating a nice little playpen for us to work.  When I returned with a warm working drill, everyone was excited to take a break from hand-coring.  We made it through most of the way, when it started to feel like the corer was getting stuck.  Wanting to avoid a mistake from earlier in the season, we decided to core the rest of the way by hand.  Knowing that the ice would be a little thicker here and having a 4 ft bank to stand on, we added a 2nd flight to the corer.  I happened to be the one coring when I punched through to the ocean and, per usual, quickly extracted the core barrel.  However, we were all greeted by a geyser of ocean water through our coring hole that quickly filled the playpen we had shovelled out.  Excellent, we now had our very own swimming pool!  The reasoning is that the weight of the snow pushes down the sea ice such that it is below sea level.  Still, despite all odds, we had successfully retrieved our 8th and final sea ice core.

We must know what this flying creature is
We returned back to McMurdo, completely exhausted, the norm after a full day of fighting the corer, pulling on/off connections, and drilling.  However, somehow word has gotten out that I'm a skate skier (complete fallacy since I've only been 3 times).  Next thing I know though, one of the mountaineers here, who used to ski race, had dragged me out for an evening ski.  We made it over to Scott Base and back in under an hour, when last time the one-way version had taken me 1.5 hours.  Trial by fire one might say.  At least I no longer feel like a duck out of water, and even did a halfway decent job of keeping up.  We might it back just in time for Monday basketball.  Needless to say, I crashed pretty hard that evening.



10,000 penguins in front of a glacier. WOW!
Yesterday was a pretty sweet day as we returned to Cape Bird to disassemble our mini-tower.  Last time it turns out that we had somehow missed the 10,000+ penguins, whose rookery is located on the other side of the hill.  To think I had been so stoked with the couple of penguins I had seen on my birthday.... We still had the few daring ones who came right up to our tower to supervise our work.  However, we then climbed the hill (for the "sole" purpose of helping Lars/Tom move batteries) and witnessed one of the most remarkable scenes imaginable.  An uncountable number of penguins were scattered across a vast rocky landscape with a backdrop of a large glacier reaching out to the sea ice below.  I don't think I actually have the words to describe the scene, so I think might just go to bed with that image freshly imprinted in my mind.

Monday, November 5, 2012

Snowmobile Adventures

Snowmobiling out on the Ross Sea
In addition to our 2 main snow catching locations, we are also taking sea ice cores and snow samples from a transect leading right up to the sea ice edge.  We are interested in seeing how the snow and ice chemistry changes moving closer to the Ice Shelf.  Since these locations are closer to McMurdo, our mode of transportation is snowmobiling.  Our first day out, I was psyched that our moralee was my friend Travis who works at the science lab on station.  Since this was a last minute trip, the moralee request went directly to the science lab workers, rather than all of station.  Travis only has the chance for one morale trip all season (and can somewhat choose when he goes), so we felt honoured that he wanted to join us.  Seeing as the plan called for going right near the ice edge, there was high probability for penguin sightings (the real reason he probably wanted to come).

Frost flowers at the sea ice edge
Our first site was right near the sea ice edge, which also meant that we had some incredible views of freshly formed ice.  Since we generally pass the edge every time we fly on the helos, we have been monitoring the changes to the edge over the last month.  We had known that there had been some recent sea ice growth, and were psyched to see meteorological conditions had been ideal for forming "frost flowers."  Frost flowers are small crystals (a few inches) that form when a crack in the sea ice refreezes, with very cold air temperatures and little wind.  As these flowers are incredibly salty, it was originally believe that they were the main contributor to the bromine explosion and ozone depletion events.  However, Rachel spent a good amount of her postdoc discovering that frost flowers are actually not the main driver for the transport of bromide, and thus we are examining blowing snow.  The other general attraction usually at the ice edge is penguins, but they all must have been playing hide and go seek.  WTF?  This was the ideal location to see them, and we had sold this trip to Travis with that in mind.  After a valiant search effort, we had to admit defeat in our wildlife hunt. 

Emperor penguin on a mission
Retrieving the ice core was thankfully pretty uneventful (we are becoming old hands at this).  The only "fun" part was that we were unable to start the drill, so we cored it by hand (as I said earlier, it was great having Travis there).  Each core is usually its own adventure, as all of the fittings freeze up and become impossible to separate.  After much trial and error, we have found screw drivers to be an invaluable tool for lining up holes and separating tubes.  With the winds starting to pick up and temperatures falling, we decided to take only one sea ice core, five ice thickness measurements/surface snow collection, and return back to the warmth of a wood stove, hot cider, and log cabin (minus the stove, cider and cabin of course).  Lo and behold, within spitting distance of McMurdo, we saw a lone Emperor penguin B-lining it southwards across the ice.  Alas, Travis got to see his penguin!

Inside an ice cave
We continued the transect on Saturday with a moralee by the name of Kish.  Once again though, the weather Gods wanted to test us, providing pretty chilly temps and the strongest winds we have measured while in the field at 30 mph (remember: we haven't been able to get out on the windiest days since we generally travel by helo).  This all adds up to wind chills in the -40 neighborhood: perfect for a fun day in the field.  Although our trip was a walk in the park in comparison, I couldn't help but think of Shackleton and his boat journey as we ventured off onto the ice (of course, Shackleton was in a beat-up 22-ft life-boat after having sunk his ship and been stranded for over a year on the ice, and we on fancy snowmobiles).  Still, we had our fearless leader Shackleton (Rachel), the navigator Worsley (me), and the carpenter McNish (Kish).  Rachel drove the lead sled with me as passenger and sled in tow, while Kish followed in a second machine.  My job was to navigate to our predetermined field sites with the GPS (another fancy tool Worsley didn't have) with frozen fingers and batteries that only worked for seconds at a time.  Adding to the challenge was avoiding being tossed from the snowmobile, using only my knees to hold on, as Rachel sped through a labyrinth of sastrugi (wind formed bumps on the ice), pressure ridges, and ice blocks.  Kish, dutifully serving as our carpenter, did a magnificent job of tying the sled together and ensuring everything made it to the destinations.  I'm a little embarrassed about the comparison seeing as we were never in serious danger nor were we ever stranded, but it was still fun letting the imagination wonder.

Sweet views inside the cave
Incredibly, we successfully retrieved two ice cores and snow samples/ice thickness at five locations.  The trip home was a little more enjoyable (though still quite chilly) as we passed a seal haul-out (that's the official term for a group of seals hanging out on the ice).  It offered some of our best photo ops of mother seals with pups (see below).  As we hit the main road, I spotted a piston bully near one of the glaciers.  We decided to be social (I mean seriously, how often do you see another vehicles driving in Antarctica on sea ice?).  It turns out it was a photographer group examining an ice cave.  What a find!  We were able to crawl inside to witness a world like none other.  For those of you who have been inside a cave, imagine a similar scene, but with everything made of ice and brilliant blue colors replacing the pitch black.  Instantly, we all forgot about the cold (although we were now protected from the winds), and appreciated the serenity of the place.  What a fantastic day!





Mommy seal offers words of advise
Making sure her baby is fast asleep
All mothers like to kiss their babies
Protecting your child from the harsh winds

Saturday, November 3, 2012

Birthdays in Antarctica

Completely oblivious to the person inside
Sorry this has been the longest stretch without posting.  The good news is that we have been incredible busy... the bad news: not much sleep.  So as you all read last time, I had pretty much the best day possible the day prior to my birthday.  However, that didn't stop us from enjoying the rest of the week.  Rachel threw me a surprise party, although they kind of forgot the small detail of actually getting me to show up.  The party was highlighted by a gigantic cardboard cake.  At first I was confused, and then shocked as Clint jumped out after the singing, half-naked, carrying a bottle of whiskey.  Needless to say, scientists down here are all a little whacked (it's unclear if Antarctica does this to you or it's a preexisting condition).

Do-it-yourself passport stamping
Now it would be sad to come all the way to Antarctica and not get your passport stamped.  Seeing as we are not actually in any country (and are located at more of an American military base), I had heard it was illegal to stamp your passport.  Still, stories told that one could sneak a stamp when mailing a letter.  All my carefully laid plans though were unnecessary as the mail room has a clearly labelled "official" passport stamp.  I was pretty psyched to get that stamp on my actual birthday.  Thus, I repeated the feat two days later (on my sister's birthday) at Scott Base (NZ territory).  Since we are 17 hours ahead of EST, we decided that Wednesday was also my birthday as it was still Tuesday back in Boston, where I was born.  With beautiful weather (which unfortunately means no snow in our baskets), we took the advantage to truly explore our field sites.  
Visiting our local Weddell seal
Laying out for a frisbee in front of our Iceberg
One of the neat programs down here is the Morale Trip System.  Scientists who need an extra field hand (or simply have room for one), can submit a request to get a moralee for the day.  This is an incredible opportunity for the moralee to get out into the field when their job at McMurdo might keep them on station, or even indoors, all day.  We've taken several people who in 7 years working here have never been on a helicopter or deep out onto the sea ice.  Seeing as we generally have an extra seat on our helicopters, we have been lucky and able to invite someone nearly ever trip, very much enjoying the extra help, particularly when we are taking sea ice cores.  Wednesday we took Michael, someone who had been on our Happy Camper training and had been dying to join us in the field.  We had budgeted an extra hour at the Iceberg site to circle the berg and GPS its coordinates for analysis of size and impact on winds.  We first visited the Weddell seal that now lives by the north edge of Chip, our Iceberg.  Everywhere along the north side are what appears to be a bobsled course, but are in fact tracks from seals.  I tried making like a seal and sliding along, but was woefully unable to replicate the grace of these 1,200 lb creatures.  The ice conditions are surprisingly different along the backside of Chip, with large areas of no surface snow and regions with large rafted ice blocks.  It was a good indicator that these icebergs are indeed playing a major role in how surface snow blows across the sea ice.  Alas, we completed our Chip adventure and returned to the helo.  However, as we were flying back to McMurdo, we spotted quite a few Emperor penguins near the ice edge.  To celebrate this never ending birthday, our pilot touched down relatively nearby for some good photo ops.  A perfect ending for a great day.  Michael (as have many of the others) summed it up best: this was the best day all season that he would have on station.

Rachel cartwheeling on the backside of Chip, the Iceberg
My sister's birthday (11/1/) was also spent having a sweet field day with a moralee.  This time, our mode of transportation was snow mobiles, and we were out on the sea ice taking ice cores and snow samples (more on this in a later post).  Snowmobiling and ice coring all day is surprisingly tiring, and we all returned exhausted for a well-earned dinner.  I had originally planned to play some pickleball as soon as we returned, but the gym was being cleaned and my body did not mind being fed rather than another workout.  After dinner, Paul and I decided to ski over to Scott Base, where every Thursday night they have "American Night," and we can come over to visit their shop and bar (the Kiwis have better beer than the Americans).  Everyone thought we were crazy for skiing since the winds had picked-up in the afternoon.  However, after spending all day snowmobiling and working out on the sea ice, I actually found the evening weather was quite nice, especially after working up a sweat while skiing.  We didn't stay for the beers though, as we wanted to catch the shuttle back home to watch the Banff Film Festival being shown at McMurdo.  This ran into about 10:15 pm and....

How we treat moralees that don't work hard
I'm ashamed to admit that I committed the #1 crime on station: missing a check-in time (which had been 10:00 pm).  This is actually a real serious issue because safety is understandably of the utmost importance.  Whenever you go into the field or on certain recreation routes (such as the ski trail to Scott Base), you are required to check-out and check-in with the firehouse.  If you haven't radioed 5 minutes before your check-in time, the firehouse has already initiated the search and rescue procedure.  This begins with sending alarms to 60 of the highest ranking people on station (and now I'm sure my name is blacklisted on station).  By the time I realized we had never checked in, they had already sent vehicles to Scott Base and onto the ice.  There they found the shuttle driver (a friend of mine) who remembered driving us back.  The general punishment is public shaming with your face pictured on milk cartoons, although somehow we fortuitously avoided this.  I merely received some good-natured ridicule from friends who had heard about the incident.  Paul had it a little worse since he works in communications and also had to return the radios back to the firehouse (technically he had been the trip leader).  I now have the dubious honour of having search and rescue called on me in both the Arctic and Antarctica.  For those of you who haven't heard the Arctic story, I had been advised to lay down and carefully examine the sea ice before working with it.  Thus, on one of my first days up there and after letting others know where I was going, I walked 100 feet offshore and laid down in the snow (any further and you need to have a bear guard with you in the Arctic).  Someone happened to drive by while I was getting to know the ice, and from their perspective saw a motionless figure face-down and called the police.  30 minutes later, the car stopped by the side of the road was shocked as that motionless figure popped up and started to walk home.  They informed me that one can not simply lie down by themselves on the sea ice up in the Arctic, and the police would be arriving momentarily.  Oops.

You live and learn (and hopefully don't cause too many people heart-attacks along the way).
Emperor penguins dressed in their tuxedos

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

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

Monday, October 29, 2012

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