I started writing this short summary of my time in Antarctica one evening a few days before my redeployment. Most of it came to me pretty fast, I wrote two thirds of it that first sitting and then finished it once I got back to Christchurch. I left it mostly unedited. It’s brief and it skips a lot of stuff, but I feel like it accurately a brief summary of life on the Ice as I experienced it. In an effort to get this out faster, words are at the top, photos are at the bottom. I hope you enjoy it.
I guess now is as good a time as any to start putting my thoughts to words. I’ve been here in Antarctica for nearly five months now, and the time has gone by both fast and slow. When I think back on the months that have passed it seems like the time has gone by quickly and yet I feel a great weight of memory that reminds me of the experiences. And sure enough when I go through my journal and my brain and start to pick it apart month by month, day by day, I realize the breadth of my experience during these last few months. No matter what, whether a memory seems like a long time ago or a recent thing, it is still your history. It has been done, it is gone. The only thing that can go slow is the present. Do not worry for the past gone by fast, think fondly of what you did with it, and make sure the present yields more of the same.
On October 17th when I stepped off of a contracted Airbus onto the Ross Ice Shelf I really had no idea what to expect. Through talks with friends and even family that had worked here before I had some vague idea of the lifestyle. Through talks with my new supervisor over the phone I had some vague idea of what I would be doing at work, and also were that work would be taking me. But I really had no idea what it was going to be like to live and work at McMurdo station for four and a half months.
McMurdo station is the largest station on the continent of Antarctica. During the long months of the winter it remains staffed with a crew of around 150-250 people. During the austral summer months that population can swell sometimes over the one thousand mark. During my time there I don’t think we ever quite broke one thousand, but we sure got close. As such, as odd as it is, McMurdo was technically over twice as large as the town that I grew up in. However, the town that I grew up in was on the road system in Alaska, and I was free to do whatever or go wherever I wanted. Within my parents will that is. That’s one of the hardest things about working down here to deal with. While you are here, you are cut off from the rest of the world, and you live by the rules of those with power over you. At least, you will if you want to fill out your contract. For me, the idea of not being able to leave presented quite the conundrum. What would I do should some calamity befall the majority of the world? How would I get to somewhere where I could sustain my life if the planes that supplied us stopped flying?
Planes are the lifeblood of Antarctica. Sure, Ross Island is the furthest south landmass that can be reached with a boat, and they do make great advantage of that. But in Antarctica, planes rule supreme. If the planes were to fall out of the sky one day, nearly every single Antarctic program would be done for, or at the least face terrible difficult logistic nightmares. Ski equipped LC-130’s and wheeled C-17’s bring in a substantial amount of cargo and passengers to McMurdo every year. From there, the LC-130’s fly to remote deep field camps and to the Amundson-Scott South Pole station making sure those camps and people can continue to do their work. There are smaller contracted planes, the DC-3’s and the Twin Otters of KBA that do a significant amount of work as well. Also closer to home here in McMurdo we depend heavily on helicopters, Bell 212’s, and Eurocopter B2’s from PRI to supply the camps close to us, and to ferry passengers around and allow for the setup of the infrastructure that makes it all work.
While planes are lifeblood of Antarctica, these helicopters where the lifeblood of my work. For those not familiar with the Bell 212, just think of almost any military movie you’ve seen that is set in the 70’s through the 90’s and even beyond, and chances are you’ve seen a Bell 212. Or perhaps you’ll recognize it by its name in the military, the Huey. The 212 is the civilian designation for the aircraft, and it’s what I spent a not insignificant amount of time in. There were three 212’s, known by the last three letters or numbers of their designation number: 36J, 7PH, and 08H. My first day into the field I loaded into 08H which was being piloted by Hugo, and took a 45 minute flight across Ross Sound into the Taylor Valley and to the top of a mountain known only as 1882. Oddly enough, on my last field day of the season, I also loaded into 08H being piloted by Hugo for the last flight of my season, and the last helicopter flight of the season altogether. This time we went to a shoulder on the slopes of Mt. Erebus to pull in the last field repeaters of the season.
You see, Antarctica is a harsh continent. Most of my job consists of deploying communications equipment into the field that will have to be brought back in only months later. Several years ago a group went out to a mountain called Mt. Brooks to install a VHF repeater that went in every year. When they arrived, there was no evidence that there had ever been a tower there. The best they were able to find was the holes drilled in the ground where the anchors had been. You can imagine what winds that would rip a tower off the top of a mountain would do to a satellite dish left on that tower. So every season while scientists are heading out into the field, we have to make it out and deploy all of the equipment that makes communications for them possible. Realistically it’s long stretches of preparation making sure you’re ready for anything, and then frantic periods when the helicopter schedule opens up and we can get out installing equipment. We also provide support for deep field camps and this meant a long flight on a LC-130 to seemingly random points on the West Antarctic Ice Shelf. Back in town we had long hours spent inspecting and repairing equipment, writing documentation, and preparing for future jobs while maintaining the infrastructure around town.
And then there was the town life. You live in dormitories, most with communal bathrooms. You have a roommate. I was fortunate enough to make great friends with one of my co-workers and we roomed together in dorm 211. I thought I was going to hate this aspect of life down there, but it grew on me over time. I won’t say that I prefer it, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Food is always available from the galley in 155. It might not be the food you want, but it is the food you get. Cooking for yourself is made difficult by not having any public cooking facilities, but honestly since any food you would want to cook would have to be shipped in, it’s not a big deal. While the big planes are flying into the continent the food is not too bad, some days it’s even quite good. Once the big planes stop flying during the “flight gap,” things start to get pretty dark food wise. It’ll get you through the day but it won’t put a smile on your face. It’s important to note that those preparing the food are not to blame for this, as they are working with far less than ideal ingredients. For those wanting to be social a myriad of opportunities exists for socializing. For starters there are two bars that are open on various days of the week. This took me quite by surprise. On top of that, many of the talented members of the community put on classes on various subjects and activities throughout the week, and there are always movie nights, game nights, and other such modes of entertainment. There is so much to do socially that halfway through the season I found myself having to force myself into spending time alone so as to recharge. Needless to say I was rarely if ever bored.
All in all it is most likely the most memorable combination of experiences I have ever experienced. Definitely the most varied combination of experiences. As I finish writing this I find myself back in Christchurch sitting on the patio of a hostel feeling the wind and sun and smelling the air in such a vivid way, that it all seems like I’ve never experienced them before. It reminds me of what I missed out on while I was down in Antarctica. It’s certainly not a perfect place to be, but it’s an amazing place to experience. Right now I’m waiting to hear back on whether or not I’ll have a contract for next year, but right now the odds seem good. I’m happy to be back for sure, more happy to be here now than I would be to be there; that’s for sure. But with that being said, I’m also looking forward to heading back to Antarctica later this year. Until then I’ll be working a bit here, and adventuring a lot there. And I’m looking forward to all of that.
