Skua attack, pooping planes, and DEEP cold

Hi all,
Yesterday at lunch I got "skua'ed! I was carrying a sandwich away from the galley when I was struck on the back of the head by a wing and had the wrapped sandwich knocked out of my hand. Those birds are bigger than they look and with my hood up, I didn't hear him coming. Although I was able to rescue the sandwich before the bird got back to it, the impact made enough of an impression on me that now I automatically go on high alert now when I go out that door, with our without food. They are stealthy and notorious. Don’t believe their innocent expressions in the photos at pbase.com/antarctic_suze.

I'm back from two weeks at Taylor Dome, just above Taylor Valley (Dry Valleys) on the East Antarctic Plateau.

We were scheduled to fly back on a Herc (LC-130), the big plane flown by the NY Air Nat'l Guard, but that morning were switched to a Twin Otter, a much smaller plane flown by a contractor out of Calgary. Flying with Canadian bush pilots is quite a bit more fun than flying with the US government. With the Canadians, it's a rather casual affair, starting with them buzzing camp "to let you know we're here". The Hercs are strangled with endless structure, rules, regulations, and formality, so getting switched to a Twin Otter was a treat... that plus lots of windows.

The first few days of getting the camp together had it's challenges with weather and it's results, such as propane hoses snapping in the cold and the fact that heaters (propane or diesel) don't work well (nor do generators) below minus forty degrees C/F (minus forty is the same on both scales). Poorly running heaters and stoves lead to nasty fumes... not exactly what our bloodstreams need in the cold at almost 8000', which physiologically is higher at polar latitudes.

Digging out the giant tractors took some time, followed by much engine warming with the gas-powered heaters we brought, but eventually they ran again and the operators could get the runway groomed enough for the Hercs. The Twin Otters can land just about anywhere and take off in what appears to be 100', but the Hercs have to have all the right runway markers, etc on their two mile regulation runway.

The Hercs dropped off a lot of cargo over numerous flights and will do so for the next few weeks as the scientists get out there and get ready for the Traverse (see last message). With the air as cold as it was, exhaust creates an ice fog that surrounds the plane. Obviously this doesn't help much for finding the runway, so they do a hot offload. What happens is the plane taxis along with the tail ramp down, then you'll hear the engines rev up and it'll pick up speed while the cargo pallets are released down the ramp in the swirling ice fog. The effect is very much that the plane is pooping: a big gray bird pooping squares on the snow. For some reason I find this quite amusing.

It's truly amazing how we adapt. Believe it or not, -30 actually seems warm, esp without wind, when you've been dealing with temps below minus forty. The coldest we measured was about Fahrenheit minus 55...
brrr! At that temp, ziploc bags become crinkly and stiff like cellophane, those yellow foam earplugs snap in half, and we didn't go out with a square centimeter of skin exposed. The wind really zaps warmth, so when it isn't windy, it seems radically warmer.

We slept in little heated (more or less) buildings on skis that will be hauled along the traverse, so it isn't like we were living in tents in these conditions. Nonetheless I had my hands full making sure people didn't get frostbit and putting into place the basics of a safe camp. But it was fun... part of the reason to come to Antarctica is to occasionally get a good pounding.

The other day we had a Search and Rescue call-out, a missed Twin Otter check-in, that got as far as us starting to pull gear from the SAR locker before they radio'd in. It was the pilots I'd flown with 3 times recently and I had seen them and their two passengers leaving that morning. The thing about SARs here is that there is a high probability of knowing the people involved (not to mention that we rarely have real incidents so we don't exactly have much opportunity to get calloused about it (does anyone ever really?). It was sobering thinking about what we might encounter as we pulled gear. Fortunately almost always the party calls in before we get very far.

Since getting back I've started riding my bike around town. Larry and I bought used rentals back home and had them sent down as entertainment as much as transportation (town is compact). It'll provide more flexiblity not needing to wait for the airfield shuttle to get out to skate ski on the road to the runway, but it's already been fun just being able to move at a less of an Antarctic pace. And then there's the challenge of finding the right balance between real ice and too-loose snow which definitely helped me wake up this morning. But the roads are drying out (sublimating, that is) so the riding will just get easier as I figure out the best biking routes around town. I'm finding the seat is quite hard, but am hoping it'll soften up as the temps warm.

So, not too much exciting going on. Tomorrow Larry gets back from Taylor Dome now that they're done swapping out the skis on the giant sleds, but I'll be out at Happy Camper school overnight.

Be well, and enjoy the crunchy leaves out there for me. And the smells of fall...
Love to all, Susan