Cape Evans Part II: Critters

Current Conditions
Temperature: 17F
Wind Chill: 5F

Transport to Cape Evans was in yet another relic from the land of misfit vehicles. This one's called a Delta:


It took an hour and a half to drive 15 miles in a straight line across the sea ice. And this time, the Delta didn't even get stuck. Can you imagine digging out and pushing this thing? How about 8 times in one round trip? Glad I missed that one.

And now the moment we've all been waiting for - PENGUIN!!!
As we mozied along the road, we spotted a penguin on the sea ice. He had been coming toward the road, but immediately started running away from the monstrous Delta. We stopped anyway. Imagine a row of fifteen redcoats, all with cameras blazing. Our little friend got amazingly less afraid, turned, and started running back toward us. I wonder how big their brains are? I gotta say, this little guy was one of the cutest things I've ever seen, especially when you add that crazy run/waddle with the flapping arms! Hilarious! Here he is in mid-"flight":


This is an Adélie penguin. It's pronounced just like the Willamette River, that is to say, not at all the way I thought it would be. It's like this: "Let's go find adélie where I can get a reuben sandwich". mmm... reuben sandwich. Adélies are the most common penguin here, and also the most mischievous and clown-like, I'm told. We have Emperor penguins as well, but they're not so common. In fact, the penguin ranch has only been able to tag ten so far this season. The penguin ranch is off of the road to Cape Evans, but it's unlikely that I'll get a chance to go there.

The Adélie came all the way to the road, crossed about ten feet away, and continued his evening jog. Then we continued our ride to Cape Evans.

At the cape, and beyond the hut, is a small lake called Skua Lake. It's named after the scavengers of Antarctica, the Skuas. These are basically oversized, dirty-looking seagulls. There were several of them bathing in the lake:


It is quite common to see one of these large birds waiting outside the galley for someone with a to-go meal. I've found that they really enjoy the element of surprise. They'll wait for someone who hasn't noticed them and has their back turned. Then they swoop in from behind in hopes that a tray of food will be flung into the air! Hitchcock, anyone? I've had several stare-downs, but no attacks so far.

Also beyond the hut is a small hill with a memorial to the men who died there. The view is fantastic, and seemingly uncapturable on film. Mt. Erebus towers above to the east. To the north, the Barne Glacier stands like a long frozen cliff over the flat sea ice. In the south is a view along Hut Point Peninsula with several large jagged islands slicing up through the ice. And to the west:


These are the Royal Society Mountains, part of the Transantarctic Mountain Range. In another few months the sea ice here will probably melt far enough to allow this iceberg to float where it will. Can you see the flagged road we drove in on?

On the drive back out, we found a weddell seal lazing nearby. He too "ran" off as we approached. More of a caterpillar-like lurch, really. Big fella:


Pretty good for one day. Managed to see just about all the critters we have, on land anyway. There are some really interesting critters in the water. I'll get to those another day.

Cheers!

Cape Evans Part I: History

Lesson 1: Antarctic Geography

Here it is, Antarctica:


North, south, east and west get a little messy here, so I'll use good old up, down, right, left. This is a typical way to map Antarctica, and the large part of the continent on the right is often referred to as East Antarctica, though it makes little sense.

I should mention here that if you click on the map (or any picture here, for that matter) you'll get a bigger version of it. McMurdo station is located on the lower right edge of the Ross Ice Shelf, towards the bottom of the map. New Zealand is directly north of McMurdo, so straight down off the map. The Palmer Peninsula, in the upper left corner, points to South America. This is where the third US station is, aptly named "Palmer".

So here it may get a bit confusing. This is a local map of Ross Island, which is oriented normally (north is up, south is down, etc.):


About 30 miles west (left) of Ross Island, and just off this map, is the Transantarctic Mountain Range, which runs north-south. But if you look at the first map, the mountains are to the right of McMurdo. It's a bit ineffable without waving arms and rude gestures, so I say "eff it" and leave you to figure it out yourselves. Just flip a map over and try not to lose your bearings when they fall out.

Here's what you need to know: McMurdo is at the southernmost point on Ross Island, the tip of Hut Point Peninsula. Cape Evans is 15 miles north-northeast of McMurdo, just above the small islands called Tent and Inaccessible.

There are a couple "morale" trips out to Cape Evans every week. It's a bit of a task to wait in line for a slot on the list, but well worth it. I went on Monday.

OK, I told you all that so I can tell you this...

Lesson 2: Antarctic History

British Captain Robert Falcon Scott set out to be the first to reach the South Pole in November, 1910. His ship and crew reached Ross Island and erected a hut at Cape Evans in January, 1911. The Cape was named for Lieutenant Edward Evans, the expedition's second-in-command. Between January and May, 1911, several teams placed depots of supplies for the journey to the Pole that would occur the following summer. Twenty-five men wintered at the Cape Evans hut in 1911:


The push for the pole began in October (remember, the austral springtime is opposite our own). Several teams relayed supplies and laid depots until January, 1912, when Scott and four companions continued south unsupported. The distance from Cape Evans to the pole is about 900 miles.

Scott reached the South Pole on January 17, 1912, only to find a small green tent left behind 35 days earlier by Norwegian Roald Amundsen.

The return journey was plagued with bad weather. Two men died during the traverse, one from injury, the other from cold and fatigue. Scott and his two remaining team members were eventually pinned down in a blizzard 11 miles from their next supply depot and only 175 miles from Cape Evans. This was late March of 1912.

In November, the frozen bodies of Scott and his two companions were found huddled in their tent, along with Scott's journals.

Several other scientific studies continued through the next winter. Then the remainder of the men departed Cape Evans, leaving behind enough supplies to last "a dozen resourceful men through one summer and winter at least." -Lt. Edward Evans

Two years later, ten men were stranded at Cape Evans with little more than these supplies for their survival. Part of Ernest Shackleton's Ross Sea Party, their ship was blown out to sea in May of 1915. Despite their abandonment, these men laid supply depots as far south as 83° 37' (McMurdo is at 77° 51') for Shackleton's intended traverse of Antarctica, which had itself gone terribly awry on the other side of the continent. In January 1917, seven remaining men were rescued from Cape Evans by Shackleton himself. For the amazing Shackleton half of this story, check out "The Endurance Expedition", which took place in the Weddel Sea on the other side of the continent.

The Cape Evans hut remains much as it was, preserved by the cold: clothing, bedding, supplies, tools. Scribbled on one of the bedposts is "Losses to date" and a list of names. A somewhat smelly pile of seal blubber remains in the stables. This was used as fuel for the stove and its un-decomposed state after 100 years serves as a reminder of how truly desolate and inhospitable this place is.

Stay tuned for the exciting sequel, Cape Evans Part II: Critters. Exciting for me, at least, and less dry for you, at most.

Happy Turkey Day!

I had a great Thanksgiving yesterday. Started with a nice sleep-in. We work a 6 day week here, so Saturday is normally a work day, but most folks get a two day weekend for the holiday. Unfortunately, The equipment I'm responsible for doesn't take the weekend off, so I still have a few checks to make, even on my days off. It usually takes less than an hour, so it's not a big deal. Yesterday was so beautiful that two friends were happy to accompany me to Arrival Heights while I worked, just for the view.

Arrival Heights is an ASPA, Antarctic Specially Protected Area, due to the equipment there. It is located about a mile north of town, up the peninsula towards Mt. Erebus. It is generally off-limits, and anyone that needs to go there must report to me first (except the Kiwis, who have their own equipment there).

After I finished checking equipment, we hiked further up the hill to Second Crater, where there is a great view of the entire island: Mactown and Ob Hill below us to the south, Mt. Erebus and Mt. Terror to the north. Here, Erebus is on the left, Crater Rock in the middle, and Terror on the right:

The small blue pool is called Crater Lake, I assume after the feature in Oregon, which it bears a slight, frozen resemblance to. Well, very slight. It's blue and in a crater.

From our perch, we could even see the ice edge off in the distance. It will be interesting to see the open water come closer as the summer goes on. I'll also have great views of the icebreakers' approach as they create a shipping channel to the station.

I learned a cool "sunburst" trick this summer that I used in this shot of Mt. Erebus:


After our hike, we went back to suite 251, where I seem to spend a lot of my time. This is a unique dorm room here on station because it has four separate rooms of 3 or 4 people each, all attached to a common lounge area. All the dorms have lounge areas, but this is the only one directly connected to dorm rooms, basically making it a private lounge. Bamma lives in suite 251, and many of the rest of the gang have become good friends. We spent the week collecting grated cheese, salsa, and jalapenos from various mealtimes so we could have nachos to tide us over between brunch and Thanksgiving dinner. We even came up with avocados hand-carried down from Christchurch! Such a treat!

Suite 251:

Notice my attention to the avocado!

Thanksgiving dinner was amazing. Earlier in the week, everyone on station signed up for one of three serving times; 3, 5, or 7. The meal was pretty standard Thanksgiving grub, and all delicious. It's very interesting that what really stood out were the little things we just don't get on a regular basis, or at all. Things like raw carrots and celery, cherry tomatoes and parmesan for the salad. Instead of instant, REAL mashed potatoes!! And shrimp cocktail.

It was wild to see such huge piles of dinner rolls and row upon row of pies. After dinner, we succumbed to food buzz for a bit before drinking copiously. Several of us managed to visit all three bars before calling it a night. On that note...


CHEERS!

FIRE!

Got a little action the other day! A group of scientists were cruising across the ice when the fuel line in their MatTrack burst. Everyone was OK but the $40,000 ROV (Remotely Operated Vehicle) in the bed. These are your tax dollars at work folks! Actually, it was a Kiwi ROV, so we'll pay for it through a different channel: insurance.


Notice that a MatTrack is just a regular truck with treads instead of wheels. The vehicle was towed (dragged, rather) back to the station and has spent its final days collecting whimsical signs such as: For Sale, No Smoking, and Retro (this is a term used to designate items no longer in service that are slated for removal from the continent). These are the things we do for amusement. I saw a sign on a bicycle today that said "Please do not ride me, I'm underage". And speaking of signs, did anyone see Bamma on the Today Show? Actually you probably would only have seen her sign:


Bamma is a friend I've had for nearly ten years now, since my days at Ohio State. She's looking a little tired here, but really not bad for 2 o'clock in the morning! It's really fun to have such a longstanding and great friend around! I am quickly becoming known here as "B. Nelson", a nickname (of sorts) that Bamma gave me long ago.

And speaking of nicknames (the subjects are flowing together nicely today)...


McMurdo Station, "Mactown". Everything here has a nickname. It makes buildings especially difficult, because all have a name and a number, and many have a nickname and an acronym to boot. For example, I can say "You know, building 143, VMF, the Vehicle Maintenance Facility, the Heavy Shop", and be considered annoyingly redundant by my peers.

I work in Building 1, CSEC, Crary, the Lab. In the picture, it's the three-tiered building in the far left. The building sections are connected by a long, sloping hallway.

The large building near the middle of the picture is Building 155, the Galley. I like to call it Grand Central. Maybe I'll start using GC, just to add to the confusion! This is the heart of the station. In it is the galley, an internet kiosk, the general store, the barber shop, dormatories, the library, offices for housing, human resources, recreation, finance, gear issue, ATM machines, and probably a dozen other things I don't even know about yet. It sounds like a lot, but most of it exists in only two hallways.

The row of four dark brown buildings at the top left are dormatories. To the right of those are five more similar-looking dormatories. I live in front of those, in the second of the two longer buildings.

Storm Havoc

Current Conditions:
Temp: 25F
Wind Chill: 19F

The other day I left the wine bar at midnight or so. It's strange how the unexpected shock of daylight gives you a streak of new energy. This time, though, we were in Condition 2, and anything beyond the edge of the nearest building was just a snowy blur. But, after a long week of storms, it's finally starting to feel like summer. I even saw someone in sandals yesterday!

I mentioned a few posts back that I would generally have some spare time as long as everything is working well. I forgot to knock on wood. The recent storms wreaked havoc on some of the equipment.

The Anemometer Saga:
I noticed one of my anemometers (just a fancy name for 'wind gauge') was hanging precariously from its post after several days of 100+ mph winds. It was still working, though, so I just secured it and called it a day. The next morning the data was a flat line at zero. "Crap, I broke it" was my thought. Then I realized that, for the first time, it wasn't windy! The sensor wasn't broken, it just had nothing to measure! This turned out to be only partly true. In fact, it had nothing to measure AND it was broken. So tomorrow I get to strap myself to the roof (again) and replace it. It's a nice view of the Royal Society mountain range from up there, though:


The Riometer Saga:
I'm responsible for an array of riometers (Relative Ionospheric Opacity METERs). These are antennas that measure the opacity of the ionosphere (aptly named, eh!).

How?
Imagine the static noise on a radio between stations. That static is actually background noise, or random waves bouncing around that originate from all over the universe. The level of this noise coming from outer space is known. But when the noise passes through earth's atmosphere, it gets attenuated (just a fancy word for 'quieter'). This is due to ionization in, you guessed it, the ionosphere, which is the outermost layer in our atmosphere. So by measuring the noise we hear on the ground, and comparing that to what we know it is in space, we can tell what is going on in the ionosphere.

Why?
Beats me.

So there are 16 riometer antennas in a 4 by 4 array. This makes a "picture" of the ionospheric opacity across the sky. But at one pixel per antenna, the resolution is pretty low. And it gets even worse when half the antennas have been broken, blown over, or both. Here's a pic of yours truly and one row of partially repaired antennas (at least they're upright again!):


The nice thing is, these antennas are in a restricted area up on the hill above town, so people are ecstatic to come and help me fix them. Of course, it makes for long days for me, since I can only get help in the evening when folks are done with work. Then again, this is Antarctica, what else am I going to do, right?? You'll be surprised! Stay tuned...

Happy Camper

Current Conditions:
Temp: 22F
Wind Chill: 8F

On Friday, twenty other fingees (FNGs) and I packed up our extreme cold weather gear and rode for an hour out onto the ice shelf. This is where we would spend the next two days, camping in Antarctica. The weather was bad. Temperature: -30C. Wind Chill: -60C. So in Fahrenheit thats ... let's see ... FARGIN' COLD!!

Before we talk camping, lets talk weather. We have three conditions here: bad, worse, and strap yourself in. Ok, they're really just called conditions 3, 2, and 1. Lame. I'm going to petition for: Light weather, Ridiculous weather, and Ludicrous weather. GO!!

Condition 3 is your average, everyday stuff.

Condition 2 is when any one of the following occurs: wind speed exceeds 48 knots (a knot is about the same as a mile per hour), visibility is less than 1/4 mile, or wind chill temperature drops below -75F. The station is still operational, but radio check-out and check-in is required to go anywhere beyond the confines of town.

Condition 1 is when any one of the following occurs: wind speed exceeds 55 knots, visibility is less than 100 feet, or wind chill temperature drops below -100F. Station goes on lockdown. You are not permitted to leave the building you are currently in.

We had condition 1 through much of the night last night and several people got stuck at the bar for a while. What a tragedy!

But back to camping... I don't think the wind chill was as bad on the ice shelf as it was in town, but we definitely had to keep every last bit of skin covered to avoid frost nip. Covered with what? Here's what I wore:

Long underwear top & bottom
Fleece pants
Windproof overalls
Thick socks
Issue boots and liners
Fleece pullover
Big Red (this is the large expedition coat with the fuzzy hood we all get)
Glove liners
Mittens
Neck gaiter
Balaclava
Knit hat
Ski goggles

We did some indoor training on pitching tents and using camp stoves, and I was surprised at how many folks had never done these. The rest of the day was spent building camp. The snow was hard packed and oddly styrofoam-like. Ideal for sculpting:


With a regular hand saw, we produced cinderblock-sized bricks of snow. These were used to build a wall to block the wind. We erected two Scott tents, which are basically a square teepee, and several standard expedition tents behind the wall. To stake the tents, we tied off to short batons and buried them in a T-shaped slot in the stiff snow. An interesting trick. Another trick was to dig down a couple feet in the vestibule of your tent, so you can easily sit and take your boots off. But I've already been camping on the snow in a tent, so I focused on building our quinzhee!


Quinzhee building 101:

1. Pile up as much stuff as you can (we used 21 large bags of sleeping gear).
2. Cover it with about 18 inches of snow, packing it down as you go.
3. Let the snow set. After a couple hours it will adhere together.
4. Make a hole in the side to remove the gear.
5. Plug this hole.
6. On the downwind side: dig down, then under, then up into the hollow center.
7. Punch some ventilation holes through the roof with an ice ax.

Warm air gets trapped inside and pushes the cold air down into the entranceway. Our quinzhee slept three comfortably, and I slept as warm as can be. In a -40 degree sleeping bag, fleece liner, base layer, and on top of two ground pads and most of my cold weather gear for insulation, that is. The quinzhee was great to sleep in because it was actually reasonably dark inside, a cool ice-blue glow, actually. I'd have a hard time sleeping in broad daylight.

Apparently, -80F wind chill is the coldest Happy Camper class they've had here in a long time, so everyone was sympathetic upon my return. I really didn't think it was that bad, though. Its just a matter of having all the right gear to stay warm, unlike that time up on Mt. Hood when I froze my butt off, and that other time in Montana when it snowed on me unexpectedly, and that other time...

Here's a cool shot of a weather-worn camp nearby:


Cheers!

Sea Ice Training

Current Conditions
Temp: 6F
Wind Chill: -9F

Now that I know how to drive a Pisten Bully, I need to know where to drive a Pisten Bully. So I spent a day learning about sea ice, pack ice, ice shelves, all kinds of ice (we've got lots!). We drove out onto the McMurdo Ice Shelf in a Hagglund to measure ice thickness and explore pressure ridges. What is a Hagglund? One of these, of course:


We measured 4 meters (13 feet) of sea ice between us and McMurdo Sound beneath our feet. Recommended ice thickness for vehicle travel is 30 inches, though a regular pickup truck could get by on 12 inches.

Great views of Ross Island from out there! This is looking north towards Mount Erebus (12,448 ft), the snow-covered peak off in the distance. To the right is Observation Hill (750 ft), and if you look closely, you can make out some of the buildings in MacTown (slang here for the station) in the middle, just below Erebus.


Around to the east of Ob Hill (more slang) is an area of pressure ridges, where a glacial tongue meets the ice shelf, causing both to buckle and create a mini mountain range of ice that has been thrust upward. Pressure ridges are very dangerous areas due to crevasses and holes that may lead to a watery grave. There is a seal colony near this one, making it generally off-limits (except for training), and proving that there is access to the water below. Sorry, no seal sightings to report.


Stay tuned for views from Ob Hill and "extreme car camping".