Midwinter

Current Conditions
Temperature: -9F
Wind Chill: -21F

Many of you in the northern hemisphere recently celebrated the longest day of the year, the summer solstice. In Anchorage, Alaska, at 61˚N, that day was 19 hours and 22 minutes long from sunrise to sunset. In Portland, Oregon, at 46˚N, it was 15 hours and 41 minutes. As you head south the longest day gets shorter and shorter:

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, 40˚N: 15h 3m
San Diego, California, 33˚N: 14h 18m
Mexico City, Mexico, 19˚N: 13h 18m

Until you reach Quito, Ecuador, where there is no longest day of the year. They're all 12 hours and 7 minutes long (the extra 7 minutes are because the Sun is bigger than the Earth, and it illuminates slightly more than half of the Earth at a time).

Continuing south, July 21st is, of course, the winter solstice. Now we're talking about the shortest day of the year:

Lima, Peru, 12˚S: 11h 25m
Buenos Aires, Argentina, 35˚S: 9h 52m
Punta Arenas, Chile, 53˚S: 7h 32m

At the Antarctic Circle, 66.5˚S, the sun would have come up briefly on June 2oth and again on June 22nd, leaving June 21st without any sunrise at all. So we can't even measure the shortest day, we have to measure the longest night:

Antarctic Circle, 66.5˚S: about 2 days
Davis Station (Australian), Antarctica, 69˚S: 1 month, 7 days, 23 hours, 16 minutes
McMurdo Station, Antarctica, 78˚S: 3 months, 24 days, 22 hours, 8 minutes
Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station, Antarctica, 90˚S: 5 months, 29 days, 6 hours, 10 minutes

Being that we endure such an extended period in the dark, the mid-point, winter solstice, becomes a much celebrated milestone throughout Antarctica. Check out Brody's blog for all the Midwinter greetings from stations across the continent.

Our own celebration was a grand affair. It seems that everyone on station got involved in some way. Volunteers magically turned the galley into a banquet hall and dance floor:

The decorations were fantastic, and complete with ice sculptures, dry ice fountains, centerpieces, and candles (a rare concession due to fire danger).

Other volunteers poured wine and served appetizers for the pre-dinner social. Here are Carol and Lisa serving bruschetta (made with fresh greenhouse tomatoes!) and champagne:

I provided music, of course, along with Jen and Kish:

This picture perfectly captures our high level of organization and sobriety for the event. Check out the solid ice wine holder behind Kish! I can actually pinpoint this exact moment, though I don't remember a photo being taken. I'm laughing at Cathy and Shawn, who are laughing at me for using the microphone to ask somebody, anybody, for another glass of bubbly. Here we are a little more composed:

For those of you who are interested, I recorded the entire performance and posted it on SurlyJam.

We eventually sat down to a fantastic dinner, with lots of freshies from the greenhouse and plenty of wine. Here are Jaybird, Kish, Dave and Deneen enjoying it:

Happy Midwinter!! Now the sun is on its way back up to the horizon!

Crazy Ice People

Current Conditions
Temperature: -6F
Wind Chill: -6F

Where was I? Oh yes, so I'm standing on a slab of sea ice wearing nothing but a pair of old sneakers and a thin waist harness. Fortunately, there are only a few people watching because so far only one van full of Americans has unloaded here at Scott Base, and the Kiwis have had their chill and are back inside watching rugby. My skin is already somewhat numb just from the short time that it's been exposed to the air, but neither I nor my skin know what's coming.

I had been told that you're not completely aware of yourself getting back out of the water; instinct takes over any rational thought that may be in your head. I say "may" because, let's face it, who willingly jumps into 28 degree water as if it's a rational action? So, here's what I remember...

My eyes are open underwater and I see bubbles over a deep blue emptyness. I don't really recall surfacing or swimming to the edge. I do recall my chest collapsing like a bear trap. I reach for the ladder and place my bare hand on a glistening blue rung. To my memory, it has a half inch of solid ice frozen over it's entire surface. Another momentary memory gap and I'm standing on the slab of ice I jumped from, deliberately attempting to do two things: breathe and put on a robe. I'm failing at both. My breath is coming in short gasps, as if I've had the wind knocked out of me. I attempt to say something, I don't recall what - probably a string of expletives, but all that comes out is a st-sst-st-stuud-studd-d-d-ering g-g-gr-gar-b-ble. Eventually I work out the robe situation and start running toward warmth. The look on my face says it all:

I don't remember seeing Katie there, but I wouldn't be surprised if that smile was for my misfortune as I dash to the makeshift hot tub. And when I say "makeshift," I mean it. Here's Katie looking like a kid at Christmas after settling in next to the contraption that warmed us all up:

Soon the feeling is coming back to my toes. My palms are bright red and I wonder if they were frostnipped by the icy ladder. Two or three more vans show up by the time I'm drying and redressing. I'm glad I came on the first shuttle, because the changing hut is so packed with bodies that I can barely move to put my clothes on. Men, women, many naked, some bashful. It doesn't matter because we're all a big family now.

After watching a few people jump, I retire to the warmth of the Scott Base bar and soon the place is packed. I'm feeling envigorated from my leap into sub-freezing water, and I think many others are, too. Enter the "shot ski":

Pre shot: Bethany, Therese, Talie, Annie, and Liz simultaneously slurping a buttery nipple.

Mid shot: Liz, Genevieve, Jolene, Meghan, and Bethany raising the bar.

Post shot: Caesar, Cathy, Deneen, Katie, and John. Not sure what they were drinking, but by the looks on their faces, I don't want any.

I take a moment to look around and realize that I know every person here. I don't necessarily know them all well, but there is not an unfamiliar face in the room. What will it be like to see a stranger for the first time in six months? I guess I'll find out after three more.

Crazy Ice Fish

Current Conditions
Temperature: -3F
Wind Chill: -12F

I'm standing on a slab of sea ice wearing nothing but a pair of old sneakers and a thin waist harness, completely exposed to the zero degree air around me, looking down a hole the size of a sheet of plywood into an abyss of 28 degree ocean water that is impossibly alive. I see fish: starfish, dragonfish, even a small school that reminds me of the neon tetras in a home aquarium.

How can this be? I haven't seen a living creature since that last Weddell Seal back in February. The truth is, under all that ice is a blustering plethora of marine life. But how? Why?

There is tremendous upwelling in the Southern Ocean. This is thought to be the result of surface currents moving northward due to wind and weather. The displaced surface water is replaced by dense water being pushed up from the ocean's depths. This deep water brings with it lots of great stuff from the ocean floor. All the nutritious dead bits of sea life that have slowly settled to the bottom are brought to the surface to nourish the abundance of life that exists in this hole I'm staring into with trepidation.

But what about the temperature? Because the water is saline, it freezes at a lower temperature than fresh water, about 28 degrees Fahrenheit. It's literally freezing cold in there, and surely the bodily fluids of these creatures are not saline and should freeze at that temperature, right? Right, but, these critters have adapted. They actually utilize a glycoprotien that acts as an antifreeze, inhibiting ice crystal growth, among other nifty tricks that the scientist here are studiously, uh, studying.

The cold water is also advantageous because it is capable of maintaining a higher quantity of oxygen in solution. This allows the marine life to grow to spectacular sizes compared to their distant cousins of warmer waters. Sea lice, normally only a few millimeters long, can grow up to six inches here! Also due to the high oxygen concentration, there is a family of fish that is thought to absorb oxygen directly through the skin and into the bloodstream, which doesn't even need hemoglobins to carry it.

During the summer, there are SCUBA divers that willingly drop themselves through what basically amounts to glorified ice fishing holes. Most of the photos you see here were taken by a diver named Bruce, of whom I know nothing, but I thank him for leaving the pictures behind. This one is my favorite, depicting a distant jellyfish between a floor and ceiling of ice:

The divers work in close association with scientists to collect samples of sea life, which are subsequently kept in an aquarium here in Crary, where they can be "scienced" upon at leasure. Folks are free to visit and look into the tanks, so long as they aren't interfering, and a 'touch tank' is kept for those who just can't help themselves. Here are some of the odd critters that had the displeasure of residing there this summer:

And check out the octopus:

These fish must be crazy to swim in such frigid water...

Welcoming June

Current Conditions
Temperature: -9F
Wind Chill: -37F

We just had our monthly two day weekend for June, and man, was it a doozy.

Friday
My department (Science Support) has our weekly safety meeting on Friday afternoon. Since we didn't have to work on Saturday this time, we knocked off immediately after the meeting and hung around for a few drinks to really start the weekend off right.

After our pre-party, I headed straight to the pub, Gallagher's, where Shandra, Caesar, and Lisa had planned a happy hour complete with mixed drinks, food and live music. Kish played some improvisational acid-jazz and I joined him for a flamenco-esque dueling guitars. Then I strummed a few songs with Jen, a couple myself, one with Jim and Tom, and finally busted into "Gin and Juice" for my first live performance on the mandolin, all the while slurping down cocktails from our gracious hosts.

After that, the BFC hosted a martini bar, where, of course, we drank only beer or wine, as mandated by Uncle Ray-Ray and the NSF when in a work center. The BFC had been completely transformed from its normal warm and cozy gear shop into a stylish and formidable establishment, complete with a red vinyl wrapped bar, alternating red and black pile-liner walls, and multiple martini gurus and servers. Here are Dom and Chopper soaking up the ambiance (they stood patiently still for this shot until Jen walked right through it, quickly enough to leave only a subtle transparent stripe):

Coats were provided for as many of the guys as possible. Check out John wearing a coat over his hoodie, while he drinks what must be a blush wine:

And Liz should be commended on her responsibility for having water along with what looks like Chardonnay. I wouldn't normally recommend a lemon and lime twist in a white wine, but I think Meghan may be on to something:

Thanks to Liz, Meghan, and Sal, looking snazzy here:

for such a great evening of beverages and merriment:

Yes, those are lightning bolts, and no, that's not Scotch. I'm not sure what's so funny, but I'm guessing my right hand is out for balance.

My walk home was through a Condition 2 storm that showcased extremely fine snow, blowing and swirling in every direction. A veritable winter wonderland. Immense flocks of tiny snowbirds diving and twirling in choreographed harmony. Abandoning my normal brisk pace through such weather, I slowed to a stroll.

Saturday
Well, technically, most of the previous shots were taken on Saturday. I got home at around 3:30am, so naturally, I wasn't feeling my best at 10am, when I got up. Fortunately, there's an easy fix for that; just throw down two ibuprofen, swallow, and then realize they were sleeping pills.

Oh yes, I did.

Needless to say, Saturday was fairly uneventful. I spent most of the afternoon in a vague battle to maintain conscienceness. By evening, the party had begun again at the other end of my hallway; one of many "redneck" parties, all of which I've managed to avoid. This one was well done, though, with several tires, duct-taped couches, plenty of flannel and torn white tee shirts, and a screen door on a dorm room, which is humorous on multiple levels. The rule was to drop your beer can on the floor when you finished it.

I really didn't need to attend, because the party kept coming to me as I sat in RaJa's room watching a movie...

Until the power went out. For two hours. And all the rednecks had to go to work. This included myself, since most of my projects' UPSs don't last that long. Fortunately, the weather was too bad for me to drive up to Arrival Heights, so I did that on...

Sunday
It took about half the day to get everything squared away. So much for two days off, I got none. A lot of other folks had the same situation, though. Especially the firefighters, who were up all night Saturday dealing with multiple alarms that stemmed from the power outage, and got called in Sunday afternoon on an alarm in Building 155. These were not fires, but general building alarms that are usually malfunctions of some sort.

Then, to top it off...

Monday
The MCI drill was called first thing in the morning, which involved most of the town running around like headless chickens for several hours.

So, after our two day weekend, we're all ready for a nice long two day weekend. How far away is July?

Sorry about the abundance of TLAs in this post. Here is a key:
TLA: Three Letter Acronym
BFC: Berg Field Center, where all the outdoor gear is kept.
NSF: National Science Foundation, from who's pockets the carefully delegated money flows.
UPS: Uninterruptible Power Supply, or "battery" for all intents and purposes
MCI: Mass Casualty Incident

The Way Things Work, Part I: Utilities

Current Conditions
Temperature: 7F
Wind Chill: -16F
Pegasus, Willey Field: Condition 1
Arrival Heights, T-Site: Condition 2
McMurdo, Scott Base: Condition 3 (of course)

First, allow me to apologize for the total lack of substance in my last post. This blog is also serving as a journal, since I haven't kept one, so the last post was primarily for my own amusement should I ever decide to read it again, which is unlikely given the history of my past travel journals. At least this one won't gather dust.

So, rather than spiral further into the esoteric corners of my own mind, I thought I'd begin a series of posts on the way things work here. I think there will be four parts, and they may come in order, but I doubt they'll come in succession.

Second, a brief status report. The weather has warmed considerably in the past few days. It has really made me realize how acclimatized I am to the cold. Suddenly, a walk through town is completely tolerable and could actually be considered comfortable. Of course, acclimatization has its own physiological implications, but I'll get to those later; Part III, I think.

Though it's nice to have temperatures above zero, the unseasonable warmth brings clouds and blowing snow. This coincides with the setting of the moon for two weeks, which I've been looking forward to because it means a darker sky in which to see auroras. We had a period of moderate aurora activity recently, and I saw several in the afternoons throughout last week. They were low on the horizon and not very energetic, meaning they basically looked like a glowing green cloud, but didn't move much. Still, they were there. But now, instead of being washed out by the moon, any auroras are hidden entirely by stormy weather.

As to the status of my own mental health, well, let's just say it comes and goes. The cold and dark are already having a noticeable affect on me, particularly energy level, but occasionally mental capacity. I'll go into more detail on these later, but I just want to say now that I'm still enjoying my time here, but I'm tired.

Ok, that was a little less brevity than I had intended for status, so on to the topic at hand; how does this place run?

Power
We currently have two power plants; the old one and the new one. Neither of these should be confused with the decommissioned and demolitioned nuclear power plant that was in use from 1962 to 1972. It is my understanding that much of the radioactive rocky earth from the former site of this plant had to be remediated and removed via vessel.

Since then, the station has been powered by diesel. The old power plant contains six turbocharged 10-cylinder diesel generators, each capable of producing 800 kilowatts:

Generally, only three or four of these would run at a time to provide the 2000 kW required by the station. For comparison, the average American home uses 1 kW, the city of New York uses 7,000,000 kW, and Doc Brown's time-travelling Delorian uses 1,210,000 kW.

The new power plant first came on line this year and consists of only two diesel generators, but they are considerably larger than the old ones; 16 cylinders and 1700 kW each. Interestingly, in an effort to conserve energy (money), the engine coolant from both plants is used to heat a glycol loop that connects to and heats many of the buildings on station. The new plant also heats the glycol with its exhaust. You can see the glycol loop running to several dorms along the bottom of this photo:

The larger steam plume on the right is coming from the six exhaust stacks of the old power plant.

Next year the station is going green (saving more money) by adding a wind turbine near Arrival Heights. I believe if it goes well, it will eventually turn into a wind farm.

Water
Our water supply is pumped right from McMurdo Sound and made fresh by a process called reverse osmosis, which is basically a fancy way of saying that it's filtered. Basically, the sea water is pressurized up to nearly 1000psi and then forced through a membrane that retains the salts, but allows the water to pass:

After the desalination process, the water is purified and has virtually no mineral content, so calcium and pot ash (potassium carbonate) are added back in, as well as whatever the old plumbing systems decide to shed into it. Our water has no chlorine or fluorine.

Sewer
Once that water has been flushed, it goes to the sewage plant (aka. Poo Palace), which is just like any municipal treatment plant:

The waste goes through a bacterial decomposition and pressing process identical to many back home. Nothing gets added to the pooey slurry, all the microorganisms that do the job are naturally present in your excrement. The water is treated to stateside standards and released back into McMurdo Sound. Treated solids are pressed into "cakes" by this machine:

These pressings are boxed and shipped back to the states, where they are not disposed of, but sold. The cake material makes excellent fertilizer, and tomato seeds that survive your intestines and the treatment are quite happy there:

Our local sewage plant operator, Mark (aka. Poo, Poo-dude, Markus Pooius, Poobacca, Perfessor Poo, Poorelius, The Emperor Poo-guin, Jacques Poosteau, Poolius Ceasar, Edgar Allen Poo, etc., etc.), is a fantastic ukulele player and a resident of none other than White Salmon, Washington. Perhaps some of you know him, and run in fear of his poo-flinging hoards!

"and flush twice or three times to ensure my beasties get their snacks!!"

Reduced to This

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

This is it. My life has been reduced to inane email banter, which I'm going to shamelessly force upon the world (of faithful briantarctica readers).

On community contributions:
Jen: Good morning,
I’m starting on the mid-season evals today. Can you send me your community activities & volunteering info?
Cheers,
Jen
Brian: library volunteer
often help setup/teardown at live music events
occasional tours of arrival heights
occasional cleaning of lounge messes
other than that, I'm pretty much a bum. actually, can you spare any change? I'll be honest, I'm going to spend it on alcohol, not food.
Jen: Are you going to share?
Brian: only with fellow bums, but I can get you an application.
Jen: I don’t think that I can hold a pen right now. Can I slobber my answers on the app?
Brian: yeah, it's just the back of a 40 label, anyway.
Jen: Cool. I’ll just peel it off the one I have here. It’s already got drool on it.
Brian: great, you're in. now start, er, continue bumming.
Jen: gurgle
Brian: retch
Jen: What did you call me?!
Brian: hiccup

Jen is the Science Support Lead for the winter. We share a large building and have a great rapport. And tend to be sarcastic whenever possible.

On computer viruses:
Jen: But how do [Trojans] work? They must be hitchhikers…
Brian: I think they hide inside a large wooden rabbit.
Jen: Thank you for the enlightenment.
Brian: glad I can enlighten, even when I don't know what I'm talking about!
Jen: Hey, hey – don’t be throwing disillusionment in with enlightenment!
Brian: please, please: no 5 syllable words until after lunch.
Jen: I beg your pardon.
Brian: I said: NO FIVE SYLLABLE WORDS UNTIL AFTER LUNCH.
Jen: $%#&!
Brian: @#$%!
Jen: #%&$
Brian: ok ok. you win.
Jen: $%&#
Brian: gol-ly
Jen: You definitely win.
Whoops – sorry about the syllables.
Brian: no, no, you're good. it'd be hard to get far in this world without 5 syllable sentences.
Jen: What the $%#@ do you mean “5 syllable sentences”??? You said words earlier
Brian: I'm confused. I said words and I meant words. so why are you sorry for "you definitely win"?
Jen: Because I thought you were being ridiculous when you said “I said: NO FIVE SYLLABLE WORDS UNTIL AFTER LUNCH” earlier.
Brian: I thought you couldn't hear me when you said "beg your pardon".
Jen: I can’t hear you at all. You’re across the building, so you’re going to have to shout a little louder.

At this point I start shouting down the hallway, to no avail.

On editing shared files:
Brian: you know, Jen, it's just like you to open up the LAS and the SitRep so no one else can access them and then leave the building, denying us the satisfaction of complaining to your face.
Jen: Well, yes. What's the problem? I thought it a rather good plan.
Brian: you got me. I checked to see if the LAS was unlocked. its not. thanks. jerk.
Jen: I don't have the LAS open! I haven't all day!
Jen: Oh shit. I did have it open. I'm really sorry. I looked earlier and didn't think that I did.
Brian: no worries, I'm just giving you shit cuz I know you can take it.
Jen: Who told you that? And in what context?
Brian: hot karl told me. I think the context had something to do with cleveland steamers, or maybe it was glass bottomed boats. definitely some sort of shit, I mean, ship.

If you don't get these references, trust me, you don't want to know.

On redundancy:
Jen: Hi,
Does anyone want me to forward these [meeting minutes] to them?
Cheers,
Jen
Brian: that would be great. could you add both my accounts: mcm.ra and brian.nelson? that way I'll get two copies from Cara AND two copies from you. FOUR copies. wonderful, I feel so loved!
Jen: Yep. I’ll ask anyone else who wants them down here to forward them to you, too.
Brian: thank you so much.
Jen: I’m here for you, buddy.
Brian: ...so loved.
Jen: Yep. And so loving.
Brian: don't forget cynical!
Jen: No, no – it’s “waxing lyrical” – very easy to confuse with “cynical”
Brian: yes, a good lyrical waxing does wonders to assuage the cynicism.

Oh, yeah, there's more. A group of Penguins fans (and one crazy Canuck who cheers for Detroit) has been watching the Stanley Cup games.

On hockey:
Brody: Game 5, Hut 10, 8pm
You know the routine. Be there! It could be the last game :-(
Brian: casey and I are planning to play racquetball beforehand, so if we're a little late, go ahead and start without us. we'll get there!
Kish: what the #$*&% #%@ man....%&$ ahhhhhhh....you can't miss anything from tonight .... this is it ... the last stand....
Hockey night in antarctica....AHHHHHHH
what the #%*$
&%#$
#%$
&%*$
#$%&.
alright see you there....
Brian: wait a minute... who was late last time?
you forgot:
d'oh
darn it
gosh
gee whiz
Casey: I think you also forgot golly, jinkies and wowsers.
Deneen: SHNIKIES!!!
RATS!
UCK YAK!

I don't know what it means, but I love "uck yak!"