Sea Ice & Happy Camper classes, season overview, LINKS

Hi folks,

I hope life in your neck of the planet is going smoothly. Is it getting cold yet? How much snow in the high country? What are the fall colors like this year? I do like to hear. The complete lack of vegetation here is part of the magic, but also leaves the soul hungry for the company of other forms of life.

It's good to be back here. Today is Sunday, our one day off, and this morning I did my long yoga session followed by brunch (a veggie omelette and a waffle: we're not exactly roughing it here). Last night was the '70's disco party (can get costumes from the Recreation office), but I opted to stay home and read "Mawson's Will" an engaging polar survival story instead. Boring I am :-)

I am rooming with my friend Jean, who is the Education Coordinator. She organizes the Intern Program for college students coming down here, the twice weekly science lectures, a series of classes offered (credit and non-credit), the National Geographic type movies that are shown weekly in the coffee house, and a number of other mini-programs. When school kids send packets of letters, they land on her desk and she finds people to answer them...

She is an interesting and dynamic person and easy to room with; I had an excellent roommate last year as well (fortunately most of us have outgrown the behaviors we subjected our college roommates to). This year I'm in a somewhat nicer dorm: both of my wardrobe/closet doors shut, there are hooks on the wall for our gigantic red jackets, and best of all the hall lights can be turned off so that one may stumble to the bathroom (which is also nicer) at night without fully waking up.

The weather has been quite warm and calm. Temps ranged from -17F (ok, that's cold, but it's all relative) up to 19 degrees, closer to the week's average, and not cold, esp when the sun is up, which is most of the time. It's generally been clear and often calm. This time last year was more normal: storms (the wind chill is as brutal as the solar radiation is hypnotizing), cold; more like what one might expect for the Antarctic spring. This has been nice, but it's also a bit disappointing.

Part of the draw for many of us is actually experiencing the challenge of being here. I have to say I do appreciate situations that demand more from me; there is something very elemental in the simplest tasks taking more time and effort, the focus of life slows down a bit. But most likely we'll have some of that too here in town sometime. The six weeks before we arrived were quite cold. Last year there was more snow around town, esp on the roads. Have to say I find this relative lack of snow distinctly disappointing too.

Sure is different the second time around: tremendously easier. I am glad I didn't realize how overwhelmed I was last year. The difference is striking and much enjoyed. This year there are no new people in our department Field Safety Training (6 of us total), so we all jumped back in and essentially picked up almost as if we'd only been away a month. There is one guy returning from having taken last year off (and two from last year are not here, but will likely return again I'm guessing). He is a Kiwi, has guided for US companies (incl on Everest) and has a ton of USAP experience. He's a good fellow and it's been fun getting to know him a bit. Now he's the one on the South Pole Traverse, and his wife works as a physical therapist in Medical.

I taught two Happy Camper (officially "Snowcraft I") courses this week, the overnight "survival school" in which we cover the skills necessary if people get stuck out of town and have to use the gear in their "survival bag" until they are rescued. We have an area outside of town on the shelf ice (glacial ice floating on McMurdo Sound) where we conduct most of the class. The students put up polar and normal winter tents, build quinzees (mound snow shelters), igloos upon occasion, and survival trenches in an area called Snowmound City.

We wimpy Instructors stay in a quonset-style hut a quarter mile away; the students have a radio and check in. The students range from scientists on their first year down here, through people in support departments who will spend time out of town, and if there's space, in-town people can come out with us. For some, this might be their only out of town adventure of the season (I hope I'm wrong about that). I also enjoy being out of town for the night as well as getting to know more folks. Return folks are required to take a one day Refresher course at the beginning of each season.

On this last course, the snow where I built the survival trench was absolutely exquisite, perfect styrofoam snow, the kind we dream about for climbing. The most perfect I've ever experienced. It was crisp, dense, and cut clean and sharp; sawing through it took some real effort. It cut in perfect corners and held an edge, not unlike styrofoam insulation. Wonderful for building: all the blocks came out fully intact and it was easy to move them around without damage and trim them precisely to fit. Glorious. But just two meters away, where the students were quarrying for their snow wall, the snow was soft and more difficult.

I also taught a Sea Ice course, a one day class designed to provide students basic knowledge about sea ice (which is fascinating, by the way), and also the skills to assess whether they can cross a crack en route to their destination. The concern is less that one will fall through (the ice is generally a couple meters or thicker now), but that later in the season one might cross a crack with the wind to one's back, then find that one is 'going with the floe' toward New Zealand. Or cracks are hidden by drifted snow.

In years past it wasn't unusual to put a vehicle partially in the drink (with occasional fatal results), but in recent years the 30" rule has changed that. A sea ice scientist described why 30" is ludicrous overkill, but then, we are working for a corporation that answers to the government and it's not our decision anyway. Congress (which funds the National Science Foundation) and Raytheon Polar Services stockholders do not look well upon death in the Antarctic.

This year the ice is out really far out this year, far north of the large island we are one (Ross), all the way north to the Drygalski Ice Tongue, a 15 miles wide and 50-60 mile protrusion of glacial ice coming off the mainland far dozens of miles north of us. The massive ice berg that calved off the Ross Ice shelf (over the Ross Sea) in 2000 (and made the national news for it's enormity), though split into two, is still blocking some of the currents coming into McMurdo Sound. The berg(s) block some of the swells and warmer water that would otherwise slowly break up the ice. Aerial imagery shows another one on it's way to cracking off, and we will accompany the glaciology team at times while they put in seismometers and other instruments near where it's cracking.

The sea ice is at its maximum now and effectively doubles the size of the continent (which itself is 1.5 times the size of the US), and by February, the end of our season, it will have broken/melted back quite dramatically, allowing penguins and seals easy access to the McM sound area. The seals come up now anyway through the sea ice cracks, and some of the seal research groups are already out camped on the ice doing their research.

The Adelie peguins, who nest here on Ross Island to the north on Cape Royds, are not here yet and the Emporer penguins, who spent the winter standing in a tight group on the ice with an egg then a chick on their feet under their skin flap, are still at Cape Crozier, on another arm of Ross Island (the center of which is Mt Erebus, a 12,700' active volcano, always steaming far over our heads), but we are unlikely to see any for awhile. Later, Adelies will later nest on the land at Cape Crozier.

That same berg has dramatically reduced the Emporer population at Crozier because they nest on the sea ice attached to the island and the Ross Ice Shelf, and the berg has banged against the shelf crushing the Emporer's nesting area. There were zero chicks in 2001, when just a few years prior there were 1200. This year there are more penguins there so they are hoping there will be also more chicks. The chicks are hard to count when still on a parents feet under the skin flap, but later the parents will leave and then it's easy to make the count.

The remaining day of this week was spent not training, but being trained (often more fun). This season the helicopters operations people invited a bunch of us Science Support people (many depts that directly support the scientists, as opposed to Operations, who run the infrastructure) to learn how to rig the cargo loads that the helos haul underneath. Last year in the field I got to be the one to crouch a couple times under the large hovering helo and clip the cargo cable to the hook under the belly of the roaring monster as we moved a camp... that was exciting. But knowing how to rig the various types of loads of course helps me feel more competent and be more useful in the field.

That afternoon we had helo "step-out" training, getting out of and into a hovering helicopter with a litter (stretcher) and packs as we might have to do during a search and rescue (we are the Primary SAR team and train one day a week for this). Last year we just did it as a dry run on the helo pad because the weather wasn't allowing flights. This time we did it live, on the flat, then on a low angle rocky slope and a low angle snow slope to simulate the types of terrain that we might have to do this on if the helo cannot land where we need to be dropped off. The helo people also recorded the weights of our SAR packs and our own flight weight, which is how much we weigh with all our warm clothing on. My flight weight, which includes pockets full of various items, is almost 25 pounds over my body weight! Fortunately it's distributed in such as way as to not feel like it's suffocating me. It does, however, make getting into high vehicles interesting.

Some of you may recall last year how blown away I was by the various pieces of ancient heavy equipment that I had to learn to drive to transport large numbers of people (happy campers) across snow and sea ice. Each machine is different in terms of where all the fluids are and other things to check as well as in how to start it, so last year I took extensive notes which have greatly helped.

What I'm finding more interesting is how normal it feels now to drive a mammoth rig, lumbering along at 10-15 mph, my head up to 10' off the ground. It's just as well they're slow as it could be easy to get into big trouble with such a heavy behemoth: difficult to slow down as well as get it to move in the first place. Our "Nodwell" that we use for Happy Camper is not-well again, so we have a Delta from Recreation until the Heavy Shop gets it running again. That's the most massive one, with a ladder to get up into it. It's wheeled, not tracked; the tires are almost 6' tall and about 2.5 feet wide.

I have to say I miss the Nodwell, with it's inability to track straight, with the two levers coming up off the floor for steering and braking and the ever-clanking steel track. Much of this machinery was built in the '70's and still says "U.S. Navy" from when the Navy ran this place for the NSF. Only about 5? years ago did private industry take over the contract.

This year I will actually follow-through on my previous plan to take photos of these vehicles and send a couple along to you. Perhaps this part of the job is the most "out there" to me. I do get a kick out of sometimes seeing contruction/destruction heavy equipment being driven by women, some of whom are quite small... breaking the stereotypes.

Nice to see people again; a lot of really cool folks down here. It really is a tight little community with all the benefits and bummers of living in a fishbowl.

The snow still makes all those marvelous crazy squeaking funky sounds. It's such a pleasure to walk across the mostly firm surface (out on the snow on the shelf ice) listening to how the tone and pitch of the squawks and creaks change, especially over the hollower areas which add a level of reverberation or percussion to the music. It varies spatially, often at just the right distance where it changes noticably each step, but not so fast as to be jerky or awkward. Wonderful.

[Now it's Monday morning. I went to the science lecture last night, which was an unusual one: Common Mammals and Birds of the McMurdo Sound Area, which was natural history (descriptive, not science, which is highly focused and is about testing a theory). It was packed with listeners and very interesting and included identification and new discoveries about orcas (3 species?), Minke whales, another whale I've never heard of, 3 kinds of seals including how leopard seals hunt, and of course our beloved penguinos ("pen-GWEEN-o"). Also, an aggressive scavenger flying bird that will show up later around town (squa), and all white snow petrels which most of us don't ever see. But it was a great lecture, one I hope they'll do again if the get a lull in the more scientific presentations.]

Well, my eyes have about had it from staring at this screen, so I'll let you get back to whatever you were working on before I interrupted.

Love and squarky sounding snow, Susan

I found this via a websearch. It isn't related to us officially, but is worthwhile:

http://www.antarcticconnection.com/antarctic/info-index.shtml
Antarctic photo library:
http://photolibrary.usap.gov/
And our weekly newspaper though it appears they haven't started the online summer page yet:
http://polar.org/antsun/index.htm#
NSF Office of Polar Programs:
http://www.nsf.gov/od/opp/antarct/start.htm
area map, with the Dry Valleys (highly unique) on the left side:
http://www.niwa.co.nz/pubs/wa/11-3/map_island
map of part of Ross Island and our peninsula:
http://www.geocities.com/~kcdreher/ross_is2.html
And the map we use a lot, the one some of you saw at the slide presentation in Boulder last spring:
http://www.geocities.com/~kcdreher/ross_is2.html

Christchurch Boomerang, October 5, 2004

Hi the few,

Antarctic adventures begin already.

After four hours in the air, word came down that we were turning back (a "boomerang" flight). We were hoping they were joking, but knew better.
The first plane that landed on the ice runway left an 8"deep trench 1000' long that needs a bit o' work before another plane can come in.

Apparently this is fourth year sea ice (fairly old) and it has a 9" layer over a weak area, so they have to fill in all the holes with fresh water, give them 24 hours to freeze, then test each one with something heavier than heavy equipment (which they have).

They had a wooden boomerang on board that the crew photographed one of their guys with. Cute.

The weather has closed in, which would preclude our arrival anyway. I am ready to be down there, not hanging out in Christchurch, but there are far worse places to be stuck.

I'm trying to absorb the colors and scents of the many flowers, the songs of the birds, the dogs... and of course the Thai food.

Our pay is not affected. In fact, on delay days we get the same per diem cash to cover accomodation and food, much of which the resourceful among us hoard for post-ice travel. Not a bad deal.

Antarctica is a good place to learn to let go to attachmentto plans! So, I'll let you know when we land. On the ice.

Love to all, Susan

SAR training in NZ, more about McMurdo life

Hi all,

I hope this finds you well and looking forward to the cooling weather.

I am in Christchurch, NZ at the International Antarctic Centre in preparation for heading back to the Antarctic for another season on "the ice". I am surprised how familiar this city feels, and am enjoying seeing our crew again. It's a lot different, smoother of course, second time around. More mental energy left for other things.

We leave your-Monday morning and I anticipate being there just over four months again.
You might remember that McMurdo Station is home to about 1100 people in the summer. It looks like a mining camp with industrial buildings and with all the pipes on the surface, but we do live indoors, can go to the coffeehouse, the gym, the hair cutter, or play sports or music or use the crafts room or bouldering wall or... it's a full on town of interesting and varied people. About one third of the population is new people, and I am of the average age. It's about 2/3 men, and includes a disporportionally large lesbian population.

Most people are from Colorado, where Raytheon Polar Services Company is located, but WA and Alaska are also very well represented. I think about a third of us are National Science Foundation Grantees (scientists), and there are also a number of NY Air National Guard guys floating around later in the season. NYANG is the contractor for large planes.
The US Antarctic Program is a part of the National Science Foundation; "your tax dollars..."

When we get there we will have some darkness during the short night, but in not too much time the sun will always be up. We are at 77 degrees south. It's cold down there now (well below zero F), and the sea ice is at its maximum, but all of that will change in the coming months. It'll even get above freezing for a few weeks. There'll be times that it's colder outside your window than mine. (smirk)

I have the same job in Field Safety. There are six of us in our department and the gender ratio, well, I'm the only woman (and am the first in a few years). We have some really good guys (a Buddhist, and other granola-sympathisizers) with a lot of experience. As last year, I feel very welcome. Everyone works a six day week, 9 to ten hours a day. In our job, we often work longer hours, but then we also get out of town (which is everyone's craving), routinely... a real bonus and most of the reason to be here in the first place. Many people hardly ever can get out of town.

We spend a lot of time teaching classes to the scientists ("beakers") and others, such as snow camping, sea ice safety, glacier travel, GPS, and the like. We also accompany some of the scientists out into the field for up to a few weeks at a time in a safety manager role. Our third responsibility is search and rescue, for which we train one day per week.

We arrived in Christchurch over a week ago to train in search and rescue with our counterparts at the Kiwi base just 2 miles from us. We all work together in the event of a call-out... definitely makes sense to combine our resources though our station is an order of magnitude larger than theirs.

Our home in the South Pacific is Ross Island, located at the edge of the Ross Sea, an enormous bay covered with a plate of floating glacier, the "ice shelf". On our peninsula is a four mile flagged route for skiers or hikers, ending at Castle Rock, a crag big and steep enough that in years past fatalities have happened there. Not only do we train for snow rescues and crevasse extraction, but we also work on getting someone up or downrock cliffs as well. This, of course, is fun. We spent two days at crags near town working with the toys and systems, and also spent 3 nights at a ski area (think Colorado circa 1960... cool!) working on snow. We also reviewed a lot of first aid, which I also quite enjoy. It was a fun training with great folks.

Once again I absolutely loved watching green parrots soaring just above us in the high alpine. You can imagine how graceful they soar (ha!) as they scope out whose pack they'll rip into if given half a chance. They also perched on the rail outside the hut, watching us through the window, hoping we'd leave one open (they actually come in and cause an astonishing amount of damage; we saw photos). They strut with"attitude". But it sure is funny to see a parrot in the snow. They are orange under their wings, so suddenly colorful in flight.

Then two of us taught a Refresher course at the International Antarctic Center here by the airport. It was a reveiw for the helicopter staff, and the first course ever taught pre-ice. You can probably imagine how crusty and cynical the pilots and other long time ice-heads can be having to be told once again how to stay warm, fed, and sheltered in an emergency, especially by second year punks like us. Fortunately, they refrained from copping the attitude we were braced for and it was even fun. We work with them a lot and it's valuable to have a good rapport going. (Flying in helicopters is another bonus of our job).

We have today off and most of tomorrow, yea. Today involved buying a lot of avocados and fresh fruit at the local weekend street market to take down there with me. "Freshies" will probably not be a huge priority on the first few flights. The season is starting 4 or 5 days later this season, probably because of availability of the NY Air National Guard. We are competing to some degree with military needs, which as you know have changed lately. The later season start has many of the scientists stressed (it's a short season anyway considering how difficult it can be to gather data in such a challenging place), and everyone will hit the ground sprinting this year in particular. Planes will be filled with people and equipment, not salad!

This is the third year of the South Pole Traverse. It's an immense project to squash a route in the snow 800 miles to the SouthPole. The new Pole station requires much in the way of heavy construction materials, so if they can free up all those flights, then the flights will be available for science. The route crosses crevassed terrain, wicked deep loose snow in places, and has been a, uh, "challenge" for those involved (hard core mining engineer and heavy equipment operators). They figure it will take 30 days for the convoys to reach the Pole and 20 to get back.

Last year most of our guys hated it for various reasons, but our boss has taken many of our complaints to the Traverse people, and there should be some significant improvements. This season, I too will have to be involved. Sigh. But I know it's the price I pay to get to be down here again. I believe I am scheduled for five (5) (cinco) weeks out on the traverse, just after Thanksgiving to NewYear's.

My job will be scientific snow assessment (cool), sittingin the cab staring for endlesss hours at the Ground Penetrating Radar to watch for upcoming crevasses, and first aid as needed. We will work 12 hour days.

I don't know if they'll allow tofu on the Traverse; I think I'll hide five weeks worth in my enormous parka. I'm told by our guys who went down last year that I'll hear a lot about guns and killing things. I'll just quietly practice yoga in the corner. Right.

Well, that's plenty for now.

Love and wild places, Susan