Crazy ice and Icebreaker ship ride

Hi all,

I just saw spray from a whale in the icebreaker channel right here by town. The winds is blowing the broken up ice to one side, inviting the whales in to play, or hunt, or do whatever they do... Very cool. We get Minke whales and orcas.

So much for writing shortly after returning from Minna Bluff. That was almost 2 weeks ago. The consequence is that now I've had two especially interesting experiences since the last update... so, well, not quite so short this time (eeekk!). But not so long as previous years, at least.

I was out for 2-1/2 weeks with geologists who were working on steep snow and loose rock (often with ice just underneath), and above crevassed terrain at times. The team included my favorite researchers, the volcanologists with whom I've had my best times down here on Mt Erebus. There were four senior scientists, 3 graduate students, and a contrtact mountaineer (ie he isn't part of our dept but could be).

Minna Bluff is composed of dozens lava flows, and the team was investigating how these highly varied eruptions interacted with water: glacial ice, lakes, streams. They were also working on mapping this complex terrain and gathering samples for chemical analysis as well as age-dating. This area, 50 miles south of McMurdo, really hasn't been studied. The results will augment some major rock core drilling projects and other climate related (and more) research.

Mostly we hiked to our sites, much to my enjoyment. Much of the terrain was what one might call "technical hiking", in crampons, especially on the highly varied and uneven surfaces of glacial and melt-water ice right below the cliffs. The Ross and McMurdo Ice Shelves meet at Minna Bluff (see map on pbase.com/antarctic_suze). These two sheets of ice glide over the Ross Sea at different speeds and in different directions, creating a tremendous amount of stress resulting in miles of beautiful ice chaos. I'll send photos separately. Not only are there so many crevasses and gigantic blocks of ice that there is no discernible pattern or actual level surface except at the very edge, but there are 3 magnificent rips, canyons really, reaching out in gentle arcs several miles into the distant flat white of the shelf. Fantastic scenery, and it was really fun to explore ice in it's many magical forms walking to and from work every day, esp when it became warm enough for melting and refreezing (a game to see if you can walk on the frozen surface of the shallow meltpools).

On some days we helicopter-commuted because the distances were getting so great that too much time was spent hiking. One time the helicopter landed so close to a crevasse that we had to be careful while loading our packs into it. Another time, as the helo arrived to pick us up, the rotor wash pushed a pack out onto a snow covered crevasse. (The crevasse was visible by the sagging snow). As we started building an anchor to belay someone over to get it, the pilot said he would blow it back to us. Hearing that unlikely offer over our radios, we didn't pause in our anchor building. We had visions of the pack going further and then down into an open crevasse.
Then the pilot actually did it! He herded the pack back to us using the wind from the rotors. At one point he almost lost the pack, but he pulled it off: full-on helicopter-cowboy rounding up the errant pack. We were mightily impressed.

The other funny thing about working out there was, knowing the place is known for its wind storms, we worked our first 5 days in substantial wind with occasional snow thinking that was normal local weather. Then the 45-55mph wind abated and the sun came out... we were shocked! We had a good laugh at ourselves; we should have known. Then later when we had big winds we took some much appreciated rest time.

Last Sunday, the Coast Guard Icebreaker the Polar Sea offered 2 "morale cruises". In recent seasons there was so much ice because of that giant berg B-15 that the ships were too busy breaking a channel to offer these trips. This year they finally had some free time like in the last decade. This is the first year, since I've been here, with NO icebreaking/ship drama: a big change.

Almost everyone on station entered their names into the lottery for the limited number of spaces. The little trip out into the channel and back was a lot of fun, very novel. We saw two Minke whales, swimming right below us in the water. Beautiful. One turned it's massive head a wee bit to look up at us, although I couldn't see the eye. I didn't worry about photos because plenty of others did and I figure some good shots will make it to the common drive on the intranet (I will send some soon). Instead I focused on watching the whales for the moments we saw them up close. Beautiful powerful graceful animals. What a treat.

For the first time I saw an Emporer penguin sitting on the surface like a duck! We were all initially baffled, and I heard a couple folks wonder incredulously, "Loon?!?!" until someone realized. I've seen them via the observation tube down in the ice, swimming like torpedoes, waddling or tobogganing on land, in photos porpoising along the ice edge, but never on the surface like a huge duck with a white neck. How funny.

Also really enjoyed watching how the ice reacted to the ship. We had to push through a bunch of slightly refrozen densely packed chunks, so watching the new ice break and how the big pieces reacted to being pushed upon by the ship was cool. And later I was further back on the ship and saw large (meters) chunks of ice resurface after having been forced under by the front of the boat. Sounds bland, maybe, but it was actually really dynamic how the ice and water interacted and sounded. And of course all the wonderful aqua blues of ice on the slick looking darkness of McMurdo Sound.

Before we turned around on the 2-1/2 hour trip they rammed the 13' thick edge of the channel a couple times to give us a taste of icebreaking (just try to sleep through that!). The ship rides up on top and the weight breaks the ice, bit by bit by bit. Must've been horrendous when they had 100 miles to break a few years ago.

Seeing actual water is a real change. The area we camped in at Minna Bluff has many tiny ice ponds and a lake. Over our time there, one pond, right by my tent, began to melt. It was really different to see in to water and to see water move in the breeze; the strange normality of liquid water reminded me how 'abnormal' this place is. There was even algae in the bottom of the pool... now that too is a treat: plant life! We get so used to seeing nothing living except skuas looking for people carrying sandwiches away from the galley, that any form of life is really cool (and now whales in the channel).

The open sea absorbs light making the clouds above dark ("water sky" to the old explorer's looking for a route through the ice). Very distinctive and fun to finally see it this year.
Additional Nat'l Sci Foundation budget cuts are amply lubricating the rumor mill. Recently there's been a lot of talk of altering the flow of the year down here next season in order to skimp through until the next budget cycle starting in October, which may not be much better anyway.

This next ice year is the International Polar Year, following the Internat'l Geophysical Year half a century ago, when the US Antarctic Program began. On one hand there's been a build-up of big international high profile projects... but now with budget chopping... we shall see what happens.

Post-ice travel plans are on everyone's mind. Larry and I are working out the details for an extended Arctic river trip later this spring. We're thinking the Anderson, in the NW Territories of Canada, going through a bird sanctuary during nesting season, and ending by paddling along the coast of the Beaufort Sea back to the town from which we flew in. Part of the idea is to go before the seasonal cycle of landscape and animals is further thrown off by longterm warming. Logistics remain to be worked out; we'll see what unfolds.

I'm getting really psyched to climb for 5-6 weeks in Arapiles, Australia again. In case you're feeling nauseated by all the time that I don't work, know that if all my working hours are added up, I work more than the supposed standard for a full time job. I'm not completely slacking! But yes, I do realize that I'm pretty damn lucky, and in many ways.

Love and Light, Susan