At home in McMurdo- for now

The last few days have been spent packing up all our food and gear in McMurdo Station. To get our food, we went to the upstairs of a large Quonset hut, which was organized like a small grocery store. We were the only ones there, and we spent a couple hours picking out what we wanted, then boxing it up and weighing the boxes. All together it came to 512 pounds and 46 boxes of dried, canned, and frozen food. With different members of the project on different schedules, there will be quite a few helicopters flying back and forth through the season, so we ought to get resupplied every 3 weeks or so.




With our pile of food.

Thursday night after doing the food, Annie and I walked over to Scott Base, the New Zealand research station about a mile from McMurdo. Once a week they have "American Night", where they open their bar to McMurdoans. It was fun to hang out with some Kiwis and drink their beer. The walk back was especially beautiful, with the low sun glinting off far-away ice and big mountains silhouetted against a pale cold sky.



Looking west from the walk between McMurdo and Scott Base.



Good name for a research station.

We've also been testing, organizing, and packing gear. We filled up a full sized pick-up and drove all our equipment down to the helicopter pad on Friday, with the hope that on Saturday Grant would get to fly out to Crozier and begin setting up camp. However, that night the wind started to pick up, and we learned that a storm was on its way.

Friday afternoon the predicted storm really clamped down on McMurdo, and travel outside the station was prohibited. Overhead power lines sounded like jet engines in the wind, and one particular set of outdoor stairs was singing eerily. Today has been a day of snow, low visibility, and more wind. At times buildings that are just 100 meters or so away vanish in the white. All through the day the air has been filled with tiny windblown ice crystals and dust.




Heavy wind and snow. Temp 12 F. Peak wind on Fri was 48 knots, though the station is in a protected little nook between three small peaks.




My first impressions of McMurdo Station were of a giant ski resort. People move between square, stout buildings. The stairways are heavy steel mesh with traction teeth to facilitate snow removal from shoes. But as I’ve spent more time here I’ve become acquainted with all that is going on. There are about 7 support staff here for every scientist, and as you can imagine there is a lot of support going. In reality, McMurdo is part mining town, part logistics hub, part high tech science facility, part college dorm, part military base, and still part ski resort.

There is always something going on. While walking back from Scott Base two nights ago there were loaders moving dirt around at 10:30 pm. In the middle of the night the bathrooms are being cleaned. There is a “lunch” from midnight to 1 am for the night shift. Work doesn't stop for the weather, at least not this weather. Forklifts and shuttles drive back and forth industriously. People dart from one building to the next. There is a sort of urgent rush to get out in the field and get work done before winter's darkness overtakes the continent.

Hopefully soon we will be headed out to begin our acquaintance with the Adelies.

Happy Camper

McMurdo Station taxi. These vans and similarly lifted pickups are all over at the station.

The day after we landed at McMurdo (McM for short), Annie and I went to Happy Camper training. This is the survival course required for anyone who will be leaving the station. We had an hour or so in the classroom talking about hypothermia, dehydration and the like, then we hopped in the Delta truck for a 20 min ride out onto the Ross Ice shelf. There we learned how to work stoves, set up tents, and built a couple versions of snow shelters. One of the tents, the Scott tent, is what we'll be living in for the season, so you'll hear more about it later. The other tent is just a regular tent. I'll tell you about the snow shelters.

The first one we made was called a Quinzhee shelter. We built it by putting all our sleep kits (big duffel bags with a sleeping bag, fleece bag liner, and two pads) in a pile then covering them with snow. After we had shoveled on enough snow and packed it down, we went to build a wind-blocking wall around the tents while our pile of snow froze back together (the high this day was 25 F, and everyone was going bananas at how hot it was!). After an hour or so we dug a hole in the side of the Quinzhee to get the sleep kits out, then plugged it back up and burrowed under the wall on the other side to make an entrance. The trick is to make sure the sleeping platform inside is higher than the entrance. Thus, warm air gets trapped inside and you can have a cozy night's sleep. It took all 20 of us a few hours to make it, and it only sleeps 3, so it doesn't really qualify as a legitimate survival shelter, but it was interesting and fun to build. I didn't take a picture of it, but if you imagine a 6 foot high pile of snow with a hole in it you'll get a pretty good idea.

Next on the list was the one-person survival shelter. First you diging a trench just wide enough to stand in and long enough to lay in. When its about waiste-deep you start undercutting the sides to make a wide enough sleeping area. There is an entrance at one end, just big enough to crawl through. Once the sleeping are is big enough to turn around it, its time for the roof. Go find a smooth patch of snow with no footprints and, with a saw and snow shovel, cut blocks to put over the trench. Finally, shovel a bit of loose snow over the top to fill in the cracks between the block and gently pack it down. Altogether it took me 3 or so hours to finish. The inside of my shelter was a beautiful blue color, and the floor space was big enough for two people to lay side by side.

Me coming out of my survival shelter. The pole sticking out on the right side of the picture is flag, so that if my doorway got covered up at night, people would be able to find me.

However, by the time I was ready for bed, at 10:30, I got a little clausterphobia attack and, since the weather was so good, I decided to try sleeping outside. I quickly shoveled a little wall to block the wind and spread out my bag just outside the shelter opening. I put the big red jacket (called Big Red) around my legs inside the sleeping bag, and wore the lighter red jacket with the hood sinched tight. I had two pairs of long underwear top and bottom, a light fleece jacket, socks, gloves, and a hat on; and I slept very warmly. I had some anxiety about getting cold, which kept me up, but I only ever got a slight chill inside the bag. My face was a bit cold, but I was able to overlap the jacket and sleeping bag hoods to block the wind and still breath fresh air.

Mt Erebus, 12,448 ft, from our Happy C amper site on the Ross Ice shelf. Its an active volcano, and from the crater rim you can look down at one of the few lava lakes in the world!

The next day we broke down camp then had a couple more hours of radio training in the heated instructor hut. We did the bucket-on-the-head whiteout simulation, then drove back to McM to watch a quick helocopter safety video.

All in all the happy camper course was great fun! I enjoy tinkering with tents and other shelters, so it was perfect for me. It was also good to gain some experience and confidence in dealing with the cold, even though our happy camper had the best weather possible.

To the ice.

I made it to Antarctica today!!!!

The morning hotel-airport shuttle, boarding, and flight all went smoothly. There were about 125 of us to fit in to the C-17, which had some airline-style seats and some side-facing ones. Four big pallets with all our luggage were tied down on the rear ramp. It was very loud in the plane; everyone had earplugs and there wasn't much conversation. I was happy to alternate being "alone" with my thoughts and getting lost in my book.

Packed into the C-17

After about 4 hours in the air we could see the sea ice far below, through the parting cloud layer. It had some big cracks and the whole surface was uneven like a confused swell on the ocean. I got a couple minutes up in the cockpit, and could see giant snow-covered mountains on the horizon. Everywhere was white or light blue; so bright!

A crack in the sea ice seen through the small window in the plane.

The flight was somewhere around 5 hours, and we landed on an ice runway that has been smoothed out right on the sea ice in front of McMurdo Station. Inour big red jackets we shuffled out of the plane to the waiting transport vehicles, an assortment of lifted, big-tired vans and shuttle busses, and some very cool things called "deltas", which I got to ride in.

The C-17 disgorges its load of red-clade passengers.

The delta I rode from the runway to McMurdo.

Upon arrival at the actual station, we were herded through a couple hours of briefing and issuing of room keys. The we ate in the bustling cafeteria and moved in to our lab and office space.

Its all been a bit overwhelming so far.

Now it is 10 pm and still looks like the middle of the day outside. Tomorrow Annie and I will start our 24 hour survival course, then in about a week we ought to be flying out to meet the penguins!

Downtime in Christchurch

Winnie guards the Windsor B&B

With no hope of a plane south until Monday at the earliest, I had a few days to fill in Christchirch. On Sat, Annie, David and I went with Peter, a New Zealand filmmaker friend of David's, to a farmer's market in the nearby town of Lyttleton. This town is the main harbor for Christchurch, and is situated on a cove on the Banks Penninsula, which is a volcano poking up from the sea right on the edge of the flat Canterbury Plains. The steep-sided canyons of this vocano create a twisted coastline, with many coves and impassable headlands. At the market there were beautiful vegetables, and I was wishing for a kitchen to take full advantage.

Taylors Mistake

Next, Peter dropped Annie and I on the top of the ridge between Lyttleton and Taylors Mistake, where I surfed frequently when here before. We walked down a winding trail to the beach, sheep grazed and mountain bikers enjoyed gravity and the warm sunny day. Birds sang hidden in the grass and the ocean and distant snowy mountains made a beautiful scene.

Christchurch, Canterbury Plains, and Southern Alps from the Banks Penninsula.

We continued past Taylors mistake to Sumner, where we dined on bad fish and chips then caught a bus back to Christchurch.

Red-billed Gulls at Sumner Beach

That night Peter had us over for dinner. He and David are working on a project together called The Last Ocean, with the aim of protecting the Ross Sea from industrial fishing. This section of the Southern Ocean is the least impacted by humans anywhere in the world, yet in only the last half-decade big industrial fishing boats have begun plying its waters. Just last week a 130 km-long gill-net was found abandoned near there, with 29 metric tonnes of antarctic toothfish in it. Here is a link to a short news article on it: http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2009/11/06/2735229.htm

On Sun I relaxed at the hotel most of the day, reading about penguins and doing a bit of work. In the afternon I went to the Christchurch Museum, and checked out exhibits on the Maori, Antarctic history, and NZ birds.

That evening we went to a presentation by David and Peter at the local art center about their Lat Ocean project. David gave a compelling talk about the science and ecology of the Ross Sea, and Peter showed a documentary about the place and their efforts to save it. Despite being one of the best-studied parts of the ocean, Antarctic Toothfish quoatas are being set for the Ross Sea based on very little information about the fish themselves and the effect their absence would have on other Ross Sea inhabitants. I left the Art Center feeling very inspired to do good science.

The Last Ocean web page is http://lastocean.com/. This trully is one of the last places on earth where humans have had very little impact. Its at least worth your time to check out the web page.

We're scheduled to fly to McMurdow Monday morning. Fingers crossed!!

All dressed up and no place to go

Sad goodbyes at the airport, hours and hours on a plane, brief minutes in Sydney, more hours on a plane. Finally the snowcapped Southern Alps of the South Island of New Zealand emerg from behind a bank of cumulous clouds. The bumpy approach to Christchurch was followed by the unwelcome news that Grant's and my bags didn't make the transfer in Sydney, along with those of 20 or so other passengers. The lost-baggage line was painfully slow, and after over an hour we learned that our bags would be arriving the next day and would be delivered to our hotel. At least we wouldn't have to take them through imigration, which in New Zealand is quite rigorous in order to keep out invasive plants and animals.

At the airport we were suprised to find that Annie, the third member of the Adelie team at Cape Crozier, was also on the Sydney-Christchurch flight with us; she was scheduled to be a couple hours behind us.

That afternoon and the next morning we recovered from the flight in our hotel, the homey Windsor B&B, and wandered downtown Christchurch hunting food and last minute necessities. Christchurch feels generally familiar from my time here in 2002, but its taking me a while to get my bearings.

The Windsor B&B

Yesterday afternoon (Nov 5; NZ time is 21 hours ahead of CA) we went to the US Antarctic Program Clothing Distribution Center near the airport and tried on our Extreme Cold Weather (ECW) clothes. These consist of the classic red jacket with fur-lined hood, insulated windproof bibs, big blue boots with double felt insoles and fuzzy liners, fleece balaclava, goggles, and giant over-mittens called gauntlets.

We had a celebratory Thai food dinner that night with David Ainley, the Principle Investigator for the project, and Phil, an New Zealand partner. By the time we got back from eating, our bags had finally arrived and I hastily did my final rearanging of gear for the big flight to the ice the next day.

Nov 6

Alarm sounds at 4:30 this morning; onto the shuttle bus shortly after 5. Anticipation grows as we near the airport. There we donned our EWC for the flight (just in case we have an emergency landing on the ice), and sorted our luggage into "check-in", "carry on", and "boomerang" bags. If our flight gets turned around due to weather, our checked bags stay palletized (plastic-wrapped onto a pallet) on the plane, and we get our boomerang and carry-on bags for the night and hopefully fly the next day. Breakfast was at the Antarctic Center cafe, then we piled into a bus for the ride to the plane. The morning's first rays of sun struck the US Antarctic Program logo on the side of a warehouse as the nearly full moon set behind. I took it as a good sign.

We pulled up along side the giant military transport plane (C-17 Globemaster 3), and waited for the go-ahead signal to load up. Gaping gray jet engines looked big enough to suck in the whole bus, not to mention the ground crew milling about. We waited and waited. Some RNZAF Huey helicopters took off right behind us. We waited some more. Then we learned that our plane had a fuel leak and we wouldn't be flying today, nor tomorrow, and likely not Sunday either. A wave of frustrated dissapointment washed over the bus. Back to the Clothing Distribution Center and out of the EWC, then onto a shuttle and back to the Windsor.

Annie and Grant wait for our luggage to be unloaded after learning the plane couldn't fly us south.

That's where I am now. We're not sure when we'll be flying, but we will take this chance for some more good coffee and beers around town.

4 days before departure

Well, it's around 4:30 in the morning, 4 days before I leave for Antarctica. Excitement, nerviousness, curiosity, and scattered to-do lists drift through my conciousness and prevent me getting back to sleep.

At times the notion of what I'm about to do is floating off somewhere in the abstract, while at others it hits me like I'm caught inside an overhead, winter set at Ocean Beach- This is real!!


Last night I laid everything out on the floor and Libby read items off my my packing list while I loaded them into two big parent-borrowed duffel bags.



I've got a miriad of layering options, fancy boots, somewhere around 9 lbs of coffee, favorite snacks, 3 pairs of sunglasses, camera and 2 lenses, books, magazines, and a bunch of baby wipes (for cowboy showers). It all fit nicely, and both bags come in under the lower of the two airline baggage limits I've found online.

The website for the project I'll be taking part in is http://www.penguinscience.com/. There'a a link at the bottom of the home page to a Google Earth file that shows where I'll be going. I'll be at the Cape Crozier colony.

Though I don't fly until Monday night, my travels begin today. Libby and I are spending the weekend in San Francisco and Marin County, seeing friends and playing outside.

My next update will likely be from New Zealand!

Lake Sonoma boat in camping

The last weekend in September Libby and I met some friends at Lake Sonoma for a bit of boat-in camping. We only have my one-person kayak, so the day before the trip I went to Big-5 and bought a cheep rubber row boat for Libby to ride it.







Libby and her yacht.





Everyone we were meeting got to the lake on Thurs and Fri, but Libby and I didn't get to the boat ramp until around 9 pm on Fri. We packed up the boats, tied them together, and set out on the three mile paddle with a Google earth printout of the lake, a cold beer handy (it was still above 70 F), and a beautiful half moon. A herd of wild pigs spooked from the shore as we passed, and racoons foraged along rocky beaches. Dead trees reached out of the depths and would loom up in front of us with little warning, trying to pop Libby's boat. We finally saw a big camp fire in the general vicinity of where camp should be, and before long the brothers Tompkins had paddled out to meet us and show us where to beach. After some short catching up we were all in bed, resting for what we hoped would be a good day of fishing to come.







Low water and many dead trees made the night-time paddle in slow and stressful but were interesting scenery in the calm early morning light.




It was already shorts and t-shirt weather by 8 or so, and the lake water was very warm. We tried fishing for a few hours in the morning, and there were a few bluegill hookups, but not much action. We were back to camp by mid morning, and spent the next 5 or 6 hours either in the shade, where it was in thi 90's, or in the lake where it was in the 70's. We stayed out of the sun as much as possible, where it seemed to be 163 F. We tried a bit more fishing that evening, but mainly just sat in our boats, drifting on the slight breeze and philosophizing under susnset's colors.




A Common Merganser eyes us as we paddle by.

A family of river otters were seen most days of the trip, slinking amongst dead trees then dissapearing up narrow fingers of the lake.

On Sunday we packed up and had a slow, lazy, several hour paddle back out to the boat ramp. We would paddle a bit, then stop and drift and talk and watch great egrets or double-crested cormorants fly by, then paddle some more. Libby rowed the whole way out in her little boat, toting the ice chest and dunking her shirt and hat in the lake to stay cool. By noon we were back to the boat ramp, transfering gear from boats to cars, and making plans for In And Out lunch in Santa Rosa.

We vowed to return to Lake Sonoma in the spring, when hopfully the weather will be a bit cooler and the fishing a lot better.

Lauren and Tristan, loaded up and paddling out on Sunday morning.

The Brothers Tompkins celebrate the slow fishing with warm mid-day Tecates.