Catching Up...

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So much to write about and so little time. It's amazing how routine one's life becomes- no matter what the setting or task- and how ridiculous it seems to write about it at length to post online for the world to read. This happened on my cross-country bike trip, again when I was backpacking in Europe, and now as I live and work on the forgotten continent, Antarctica. I can't believe I've let myself think that the majestic view of the Royal Society Mountain range across the way is just "scenery," that my daily interactions with people from across the country and around the globe are just "conversations," or that the crates I assemble and paint in the Carp Shop are just "plywood boxes," and not receptacles for important scientific equipment and extracted evidence that might someday become influential links in solving the global climate patterns with certainty. Somehow the cramped dorm rooms, less-than-palatable mass-produced-from-the-deep-freezer meals, and looong work days and weeks overshadow the fact that I'm living on the last frontier of a continent, but I constantly try to rise above this and attempt to take this unique experience for all that its worth. This is not to say that my life is bad by any means, only to explain why I have not been as eager to update my blog in the past few weeks and remind all of you reading this to never take your life experiences for granted. Never. Ever. Please!

As we count down the last month of the summer here in McMurdo, people I have come to know as good friends have begun the migration northwards as they are manifest on C-17 flights, go through the routine of bag-drag (bringing everything they intend to fly with to the MCC, or Movement Control Center, to be weighed, palletized by the cargo department, and transported to Willy Airfield for the next day's flight), and the ensuing exchange of email addresses and hugs. I've met a lot of "beakers" (scientists and their graduate student assistants) since I've been down here and they are often here for a few weeks before going out "into the field" to work. When I see them once again a few weeks later they are a little wind-whipped, sun-burnt, and photo-ladened but all seem happy to return to "civilization.” It's been neat to hear their stories from the field and wish them luck in their continued schooling (suckers writing thesises!). I've picked up a lot of insight about ice coring, sediment coring, long duration balloon launching and recovery, Antarctic marine life and diving, penguin and seal observation, sea ice monitoring, glacial ice flows, and a plethora of other cold-weather and population-independent science experiments that could only be carried out on this "harsh continent."

Speaking of which, “It’s a Harsh Continent” has become my new favorite excuse for anything that seems ridiculous, annoying or hard in any aspect of our lives here... for example "Why does the tofu always seem to taste like eating a sponge?" "It's a harsh continent!" or "Is it really snowing AGAIN?" "It's a harsh continent." Of course, all of this is in jest as our lives here in McMurdo are almost uncomfortably comfortable- we are sheltered, clothed, fed, and paid by the NSF and asked to do varying amounts of work in return- and thus we can begin to complain about the smaller, petty things (the slow internet speed, the even slower snail-mail speed, the effect that sleeping in one day will have on our contract bonuses, etc). I’m so lucky to be able to “get out” and go to field camps to appreciate the innate human needs of obtaining food, water, shelter and (here) warmth such that McMurdo is repeatedly a welcome homecoming instead of my mundane “home.”
Here is a recap of some of the ridiculousness that has occurred in the past few weeks:
*The Bassler airplane made an "emergency landing" ie CRASH somewhere in West Antarctica. Apparently, it bounced on the ice while getting up enough speed to take off, therefore propelling it into the air before it was ready to ascend. This resulted in it losing a wing and all of its landing gear, an emergency flight out of food and supplies (beyond the survival gear that every person wears/brings on every single trip outside of town via vehicle, air or foot) and continued flights out to Mt. Patterson to bring crew and supplies so they can fix it in the field and fly it out before the summer is over. This has been an inconvenience for us planning for our Odell Glacier trip (see upcoming post) as the Bassler is much larger than the Twin Otter (the other small fixed-wing ski-equipped aircraft we have down here) but smaller and more easily navigable than the large Air Force C-130 Hercs that require groomed runways, firefighter monitoring, and in-depth planning to execute a mission to the deep field. This probably means nothing to you but it has had a significant impact on flights around Antarctica this year (and remains the only aircraft in Antarctica that I haven't ridden on!).
*A drunken brawl at the South Pole on Christmas Eve which resulted in a broken nose and jaw. This meant that an emergency medivac had to be undertaken to fly BOTH PARTIES out of the Pole to McMurdo and on to Christchurch, NZ. Under normal circumstances, this would be annoying and expensive. On Christmas Eve, when most of both stations was taking a well-deserved rest, this meant that the following departments had to be activated: 2 crews of Air National Guard to fly the planes, the air traffic controllers, flight nurses and both stations' medical staffs, the firefighters at both stations, a helicopter crew at McMurdo to transport the victim between planes and medical, cargo to help load the planes, and countless others. It (and other craziness) even made Reuter’s Oddly Enough News, which many of you have emailed me about, and a more detailed account can be found here. I wonder what the fight was about...
*A very welcomed "break" during the week between Christmas and New Year's for the Carp Shop and others by “Sparky” the dump truck operator. As you can see from the photos I borrowed from the communal network drive, during the first few minutes of night shift immediately following Christmas dinner, one of the Fleet Ops drivers sped along the road from Scott Base (the New Zealand station 2 miles down the road) towards McMurdo when his dump truck bed "magically rose" (by all accounts...eh?) and he ripped down two power lines full of electrical, phone and internet wires (and a key transformer) right in front of the Carp Shop! When we arrived the next morning we quickly cleared out all of the DNF (Do Not Freeze) products- paints, caulks, adhesives, glues, etc- from the shop, loaded them into a huge box, and had them forklifted down the hill to the plumbers' heated bay. The rest of the week we waited for the linemen to restore our power (apparently all of the key scientific and communications equipment at the T-Site on top of the hill had also lost power and held a much higher priority than the lowly Carp Shop...) and busied ourselves with work order repairs around town (where there was electric), small jobs that could be done in the cold/dark Carp Shop with battery-powered tools, and preparations for the upcoming Icestock music festival on New Year's Day. When the parts were finally found and the weather cooperated enough a week later, our power came back on, we rejoined the phone system (instead of relying on VHF radios), and after another week or so we even joined the computer age and could once again communicate via email. Although this occurred in only a few buildings, the whole experience reminded me just how fragile our lives here are and how dependent we are on electric and heat produced by our aging powerplant. Back when the Ice Runway was on the sea ice near town, I often gazed out the window of the Carp Shop at the usual line of six C-130 airplanes sitting on the sea ice and realized that if each could squeeze in 100 people or so, about half of the 1200 members of the McMurdo community would be screwed should anything catastrophic happen here. Just a thought...
*Icestock was one of the highlights of my season so far. The Carp Shop holds an esteemed tradition of decking out one of the fish huts (that are usually dragged out on the sea ice to support science groups stationed out there) as "Sawbucks" to serve coffee and Bailey's (aka "Carp Sauce") to the cold, amassed concert-goers. Since we were lacking power and heat in the Carp Shop, we had lots of time to fix up the hut, build a pretty impressive front deck and railing, and stock the coffee bar with all the fixins. Fleet Ops even brought over a milivan (cargo shipping container) that had been filled with plywood stairs to make bleachers and two flat-bed trucks that we leveled out, built a small Jamesway arch on top of, and made into a stage to rival any outdoor concert. The morning of Icestock started off pretty snowy and cold, but a bunch of my friends were playing in the first few acts so I bundled up and headed outside. Icestock is also traditionally the Chili Cook-Off, so I wandered around the eight contestant groups cooking away in the orange milivans (military cargo boxes) set up with propane stoves and decorated to match the theme of the chili. Only a few were vegetarian, but I enjoyed the home cooking and smells nonetheless and there was a great jovial mood all around. I stayed outside almost all day, bouncing between enjoying the outdoor acts and serving coffee at Sawbucks to appreciative McMurdoites. In the end, we decided that it should be called CarpStock because we were the movers and shakers who put it all together, but it felt great to be part of such a nice day and the weather finally cooperated enough so that the sun came out by the time the chili winners were announced and the last band closed out the show. Although reggae in Antarctica leaves something to be desired (the population is almost as white as the continent!) and the weather reeked havoc on the tuning of the guitars, it was nice to hear music that wasn't coming out of my ipod earbuds and see everyone in festival mode ringing in 2008 with the southern-most outdoor concert.
Happy Belated New Year to all of you reading this in NYC and around the world and I promise to upload another entry waaay sooner this time!

"An Antarctic expedition is the worst way to have the best time of your life." ~Apsley Cherry-Garrard

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Comments

[daisy]

the incredible breadcrumb
betty your reports are beautiful and inspiring and i just wanted to let you know that ive been silently following them and keep it up. much love stay safe D