Published in the Addison Independent
Editor's note: Jeff Inglis, a 1995 Middlebury College graduate and a reporter at The Addison Independent when not traveling, was in New Zealand for seven months of 1999 exploring life in small communities as part of a graduate degree program in journalism. He files this report on the struggles of a few small New Zealand communities (not unlike some in New England) to retain their cultural heritage in the face of growth and change, along with some commentary on the meaning of community.
Of all the signs, notices and posted messages I saw in seven months in New Zealand, only two truly demanded my attention.
The first was one the road leading into Waihi, a Maori village, home to some of New Zealand's indigenous people. It read, "Private village. Do not enter." The second was on the fence outside the home of prominent New Zealand author Keri Hulme: "If I don't know you, or you haven't already contacted me, please do not come in."
These signs, attempts to screen the outside world from community and personal refuges, intrigued me. The world is often described as "shrinking" as a result of invasions of technology into private lives. Furthermore, the space between the shrinking world and the expanding individual mind is lessening, leaving many people in modern societies - especially in smaller, more isolated communities - with a feeling that the world is encroaching on their lives, fracturing the cultural heritage, and causing what some call "the loss of community."
It often results in complaints over coffee or around the house. But I wondered why it had reached such a level of frustration that a physical "keep out" notice to the world was the next logical step?
Known for openness
New Zealand is a country mostly wide open to outsiders. It has an extensive network of hotels, backpackers' hostels, bed-and-breakfast places and campgrounds, all of which serve an international clientele year-round. These are spread throughout the country, as much in small towns as in the few big cities.
Free speech and a free press are as much priorities in New Zealand as in the United States. World hunger, the World Bank, and United Nations peacekeeping policies are topics on which everyone has an opinion. But it is New Zealand's "small-town feel" that New Zealanders perceive as most under threat.
As singer Christy Moore once said about a village in Ireland, "Everyone knew everyone, and everybody else as well."
But in New Zealand's small communities, as in little towns all over the world, change is slowly coming. Some things are constants, though, and are carefully guarded.
Neighborly trust is important, and often implicit. Growth is a concern. Weather is more than just a topic of idle conversation, but instead has dollar amounts hidden just below the surface. Too cold, and somebody's losing money. Too warm, and the neighbors are hurting.
Discussions of the inexorable change are cloaked in the language of war: The town's residents "defend" their territory (physical, emotional and intellectual) against "invading" ideas and people from elsewhere.
In Albert Town, Central Otago, in the South Island, the year-round residents were engaged in a series of interrelated disputes with the town's seasonal tourist population. In an inversion of the stereotypical conflict, the residents wanted paved roads and a tavern and shop to be built in a now-vacant lot. It was the visitors who didn't want these "extraneous amenities, incursions of modernization, to change their beloved vacation spot.
But nobody in Albert Town was suggesting they just cut themselves off from the outside the way Waihi and Hulme have tried to do. They had accepted that change would come and were trying to control it in what ways they could.
At a time when several of the town's residents were grandchildren of the town's founders, the plans for Albert Town in the 21st century were being laid.
Alison and Bruce Hebbard, the brother-and-sister team who were planning to build the Albert Town tavern and shop, saw their work as helping preserve the community. If they didn't bring business to Albert Town, Bruce Hebbard said, "It'll all go to Wanaka," the larger town nearby.
Maori views
But the debate in Albert Town was very different from a similar discussion in Parihaka, an all-Maori village.
The Maori are New Zealand's native people. Albert Town is populated almost entirely by people of European descent, who tend to use decision-making processes involving bureaucratic-style mechanisms, like committees and councils, as is done in the United States.
But the Maori ideas about community are ones most Westerners would consider progressive. The Maori, and even "urban Maori" who have fled to cities, consider all family friends to be actual members of the family. One 9-year-old told me, "I have four fathers and five mums." She hadn't learned to count high enough for all of her aunts and uncles.
An increasing number of Maori are returning from the cities to the more rural villages where their parents and grandparents grew up, putting pressure on the available living and meeting areas.
I met a community architect from the University of Auckland who was helping Parihaka plan a little better. The architect and his students surveyed the village and helped the community choose locations which could host new houses or increased community meeting space.
The Parihaka "planning commission" was composed of every resident in town, including the children. These meetings would go on for entire days, broken only by eating, sleeping and prayer. Even the infants were present, though they - like many of the adults - would doze off for a time as conversation continued. The goal? Unanimity. Which did not mean everyone was happy at the end, but that everyone was only a little bit unhappy.
Parihaka's efforts, like Albert Town's, were aimed at keeping the village's heritage and traditions intact in the face of change they recognized as impossible to resist.
The Maori residents of Waihi, though, were reluctant to talk about their closed village. Nata, the village's spokesman, told me, "We don't tell people any more about the village than we have to."
The land itself, because of the vagaries of New Zealand land law regarding Maori ownership, is, in fact, private. The residents, like most Maori, live in regular houses like most people in the U.S., have running water and electricity, and speak English as a first language. But in Waihi, they value their privacy so much they use their special landowner status to protect their land and its culturally significant buildings and open spaces from any uninvited disturbance.
Keri Hulme's sign may be evidence of a reclusive author seeking to avoid public attention, but the effect, which cannot be ignored and certainly was not unintended, is to keep all outsiders away. She uses her own private land as a buffer against a world that might encroach on her existence.
Facing change
As the far corners of the world get closer to small communities everywhere, the Waihi reaction may become more common. But it is not entirely a good idea.
Albert Town has accepted that change will come. The residents there are working to choose which parts of their town's character they are most concerned about protecting. In that process, they are also selecting those elements which they are less worried about losing.
Moira Fleming, secretary of the Albert Town Community Association, said they were effectively bargaining with their town's heritage. What they keep will be all the more valuable for the lost parts it represents. But they would rather lose some of it, Fleming said, than risk everything. It is a sad concept, but one which, the residents hope, will ensure Albert Town's participation in the wider community of New Zealand.
Waihi, on the other hand, has taken the extremist approach of "all or nothing." They may survive as a community, but one which risks being increasingly out of touch with the rest of the world, and, therefore, less able to share their wisdom with the rest of us. Their learning will be lost to the world, as long as it remains behind the sign outside the village.
That is the real loss of community.
Thursday, June 1, 2000
Monday, May 22, 2000
Milfoil growth concerns residents: Champlain homes note big changes
Published in the Addison Independent
BRIDPORT - Summer is coming, and owners of Lake Champlain waterfront property are preparing for another summer of weed-choked shoreline.
Twenty-eight owners of lakefront property from Benson to Ferrisburgh met in Middlebury last Thursday to discuss the problem of Eurasian water milfoil, a non-native shallow-water plant that lake-shore owners say prevents them from enjoying the water.
The problem, according to Bridport resident Frank Russell, began in the mid-1990s. In 1992 and 1993 there was no real evidence of a plant invasion of the shoreline, Russell said.
But after that, Russell said, "It was almost geometric growth." Last year Leonard's Bay, next to which Russell's property sits, was covered with the weed, as well as algae and some water chestnuts.
"In six years it has obliterated Leonard's Bay," Russell said.
The chairman of the as-yet-unnamed group, Judy Reed, criticized the state's reaction to the problem.
"They have no program in the works to get rid of the milfoil," Reed said, "but that's not the biggest problem in the lake."
Reed, who lives in Chittenden and has a camp in West Addison, is concerned about her property value: "We're being taxed for waterfront that's full of glop."
The group is meeting to discuss ways of dealing with the problem, and is exploring the various means of controlling milfoil. They are also working to get the word out to other lake-shore landowners to enlist their support in the effort.
The group has not formally set upon a strategy yet. Reed expects the group to work for about a year before anything really gets moving. But she is determined to lobby the towns and the state to help in the fight against the plant, which Vermont classifies as an "aquatic nuisance" in the same category as zebra mussels and water chestnuts.
A potential stumbling block for the group's efforts is state regulation, including permit restrictions and the bureaucratic process for approving methods of milfoil control.
The state has refused to issue a permit for an Ohio company to introduce Ohio-raised milfoil-eating weevils into Vermont, citing concerns over foreign genes and the method of transporting the weevils into Vermont, which could risk bringing foreign plants into Vermont waters.
Sallie Sheldon, a professor of biology at Middlebury College, has done extensive research on controlling milfoil with weevils. The weevils, she said, are species-specific. When the weevils have eaten so much milfoil that they can't support their population, they die off, Sheldon said. "They don't go after other plants."
Sheldon understands the state's concerns about genetic stock and "hitchhiking" plant invaders, "but there are ways around that," she said. "The answers are all there," Sheldon said.
The reason people - including state researchers - have had less success than they hoped, Sheldon said, is a lack of understanding of the biological principles involved. The distributions tend to be of too few weevils across too wide an area, Sheldon said. They have been tested in Lake Bomoseen.
She warns that inadequate and under-informed use of weevils can be harmful to future work.
"If they're not put out well, then people say they don't work," Sheldon said, and are therefore reluctant to use weevils again.
Vermont's Department of Environmental Conservation has an annual budget of $175,000 for controlling aquatic nuisances. According to Holly Crosson, an aquatic biologist with the DEC, much of that money is spent on controlling water chestnuts.
That plant is the high priority for state officials because they believe they can control its spread and prevent it from becoming a larger problem, like zebra mussels and milfoil, which are expensive to attack lake-wide.
"A control program on that massive a scale, no one could afford," Crosson said. "The state cannot afford to target both species."
And already they're letting one species get away unchecked due to lack of funds: "We're not doing anything to control zebra mussels," Crosson said.
Crosson said, though, that the state is helping a community group near South Hero place weevils into the lake.
She said the citizens' group is on the right track and encouraged them to ask their politicians to spend money on the milfoil problem.
"It has to come from the people. We (DEC) can't ask for more money, because we'll never get it," Crosson said.
Russell talked about raising money from the landowners along the lake-shore, but also wants some public money.
"Given the tax that we pay here for waterfront, I would think the state could be part of it," Russell said.
It's not cheap. Gerald Smith, aquatic biologist and president of Aquatic Control Technology Inc. of Sutton, Mass., said mechanical cutting machines cost at least $50,000, with annual operating expenses around $30,000. Or they can be hired for $150 to $160 per hour, with transport fees and minimum operating times raising the price per use to close to $5,000.
"This lake is a wonderful lake, and it's a shame that the state isn't taking more active care of it," Russell said. "Leahy wants to call it a Great Lake, but he should call it the Great Sargasso Sea, or the Everglades of the North."
The group, which is open to anyone interested in the health of the southern section of Lake Champlain, will next meet on June 9 at 7 p.m. in the Ilsley Library in Middlebury.
BRIDPORT - Summer is coming, and owners of Lake Champlain waterfront property are preparing for another summer of weed-choked shoreline.
Twenty-eight owners of lakefront property from Benson to Ferrisburgh met in Middlebury last Thursday to discuss the problem of Eurasian water milfoil, a non-native shallow-water plant that lake-shore owners say prevents them from enjoying the water.
The problem, according to Bridport resident Frank Russell, began in the mid-1990s. In 1992 and 1993 there was no real evidence of a plant invasion of the shoreline, Russell said.
But after that, Russell said, "It was almost geometric growth." Last year Leonard's Bay, next to which Russell's property sits, was covered with the weed, as well as algae and some water chestnuts.
"In six years it has obliterated Leonard's Bay," Russell said.
The chairman of the as-yet-unnamed group, Judy Reed, criticized the state's reaction to the problem.
"They have no program in the works to get rid of the milfoil," Reed said, "but that's not the biggest problem in the lake."
Reed, who lives in Chittenden and has a camp in West Addison, is concerned about her property value: "We're being taxed for waterfront that's full of glop."
The group is meeting to discuss ways of dealing with the problem, and is exploring the various means of controlling milfoil. They are also working to get the word out to other lake-shore landowners to enlist their support in the effort.
The group has not formally set upon a strategy yet. Reed expects the group to work for about a year before anything really gets moving. But she is determined to lobby the towns and the state to help in the fight against the plant, which Vermont classifies as an "aquatic nuisance" in the same category as zebra mussels and water chestnuts.
A potential stumbling block for the group's efforts is state regulation, including permit restrictions and the bureaucratic process for approving methods of milfoil control.
The state has refused to issue a permit for an Ohio company to introduce Ohio-raised milfoil-eating weevils into Vermont, citing concerns over foreign genes and the method of transporting the weevils into Vermont, which could risk bringing foreign plants into Vermont waters.
Sallie Sheldon, a professor of biology at Middlebury College, has done extensive research on controlling milfoil with weevils. The weevils, she said, are species-specific. When the weevils have eaten so much milfoil that they can't support their population, they die off, Sheldon said. "They don't go after other plants."
Sheldon understands the state's concerns about genetic stock and "hitchhiking" plant invaders, "but there are ways around that," she said. "The answers are all there," Sheldon said.
The reason people - including state researchers - have had less success than they hoped, Sheldon said, is a lack of understanding of the biological principles involved. The distributions tend to be of too few weevils across too wide an area, Sheldon said. They have been tested in Lake Bomoseen.
She warns that inadequate and under-informed use of weevils can be harmful to future work.
"If they're not put out well, then people say they don't work," Sheldon said, and are therefore reluctant to use weevils again.
Vermont's Department of Environmental Conservation has an annual budget of $175,000 for controlling aquatic nuisances. According to Holly Crosson, an aquatic biologist with the DEC, much of that money is spent on controlling water chestnuts.
That plant is the high priority for state officials because they believe they can control its spread and prevent it from becoming a larger problem, like zebra mussels and milfoil, which are expensive to attack lake-wide.
"A control program on that massive a scale, no one could afford," Crosson said. "The state cannot afford to target both species."
And already they're letting one species get away unchecked due to lack of funds: "We're not doing anything to control zebra mussels," Crosson said.
Crosson said, though, that the state is helping a community group near South Hero place weevils into the lake.
She said the citizens' group is on the right track and encouraged them to ask their politicians to spend money on the milfoil problem.
"It has to come from the people. We (DEC) can't ask for more money, because we'll never get it," Crosson said.
Russell talked about raising money from the landowners along the lake-shore, but also wants some public money.
"Given the tax that we pay here for waterfront, I would think the state could be part of it," Russell said.
It's not cheap. Gerald Smith, aquatic biologist and president of Aquatic Control Technology Inc. of Sutton, Mass., said mechanical cutting machines cost at least $50,000, with annual operating expenses around $30,000. Or they can be hired for $150 to $160 per hour, with transport fees and minimum operating times raising the price per use to close to $5,000.
"This lake is a wonderful lake, and it's a shame that the state isn't taking more active care of it," Russell said. "Leahy wants to call it a Great Lake, but he should call it the Great Sargasso Sea, or the Everglades of the North."
The group, which is open to anyone interested in the health of the southern section of Lake Champlain, will next meet on June 9 at 7 p.m. in the Ilsley Library in Middlebury.
Sunday, February 6, 2000
Crevasse rescue on ice shelf
Published in the Antarctic Sun
Thursday night a New Zealander and three Americans had a brush with death. While walking between the road to Williams Field and the road to Silver City, on the Ross Ice Shelf near Scott Base, the group went off a flagged route, unknowingly entering a crevasse field.
The New Zealand woman fell through a slot, ending up 20 feet below the surface in a fairly narrow crevasse, said Ted Dettmar, of the search and rescue team, who was one of the first rescuers on the scene.
She was not complaining of any specific injuries, Dettmar said, so he and other members of the SAR team set up a rope to pull her up. Units responding were one of the fire department’s ambulances, both SAR team Hagglunds tracked vehicles, and two New Zealanders in their
tracked truck.
“We had everything we needed for a full-on crevasse rescue,” Dettmar said.
But because the crevasse was not very wide or deep, four rescuers were able to get a rope around the woman and pull her to the surface without much trouble.
“She was shaken, a little sore, and upset,” Dettmar said. Aside from being cold, she was uninjured.
The team escorted her to the ambulance, which took the patient and another member of her party back to McMurdo. The other two returned to town with the SAR team.
The following day, a team went out to examine the area, Dettmar said. They found a large crevasse field very close to existing flagged routes, including one slot several feet on from where the fall occurred, which was much wider and deeper.
The inspection also revealed foot tracks which did not belong to the group who suffered the accident, or to their rescuers. One set of tracks went over a crevasse over two feet wide, Dettmar said.
Dettmar stressed that the flagged routes are the only safe paths for foot or vehicle traffic on the ice shelf. “You get off the flags and you’re on your own,” he said, noting that there are crevasses on the flagged routes, too, but they are monitored and either filled or bridged to make safe crossings.
To perform the rescue Thursday night, Dettmar said, several people and vehicles had to drive into a very dangerous area. After the rescue, the team marked their paths with crossed black flags to indicate that they are not safe to travel on.
“Just because there are other footprints or vehicle tracks, off the flagged route, doesn’t mean it’s safe,” he said.
Thursday night a New Zealander and three Americans had a brush with death. While walking between the road to Williams Field and the road to Silver City, on the Ross Ice Shelf near Scott Base, the group went off a flagged route, unknowingly entering a crevasse field.
The New Zealand woman fell through a slot, ending up 20 feet below the surface in a fairly narrow crevasse, said Ted Dettmar, of the search and rescue team, who was one of the first rescuers on the scene.
She was not complaining of any specific injuries, Dettmar said, so he and other members of the SAR team set up a rope to pull her up. Units responding were one of the fire department’s ambulances, both SAR team Hagglunds tracked vehicles, and two New Zealanders in their
tracked truck.
“We had everything we needed for a full-on crevasse rescue,” Dettmar said.
But because the crevasse was not very wide or deep, four rescuers were able to get a rope around the woman and pull her to the surface without much trouble.
“She was shaken, a little sore, and upset,” Dettmar said. Aside from being cold, she was uninjured.
The team escorted her to the ambulance, which took the patient and another member of her party back to McMurdo. The other two returned to town with the SAR team.
The following day, a team went out to examine the area, Dettmar said. They found a large crevasse field very close to existing flagged routes, including one slot several feet on from where the fall occurred, which was much wider and deeper.
The inspection also revealed foot tracks which did not belong to the group who suffered the accident, or to their rescuers. One set of tracks went over a crevasse over two feet wide, Dettmar said.
Dettmar stressed that the flagged routes are the only safe paths for foot or vehicle traffic on the ice shelf. “You get off the flags and you’re on your own,” he said, noting that there are crevasses on the flagged routes, too, but they are monitored and either filled or bridged to make safe crossings.
To perform the rescue Thursday night, Dettmar said, several people and vehicles had to drive into a very dangerous area. After the rescue, the team marked their paths with crossed black flags to indicate that they are not safe to travel on.
“Just because there are other footprints or vehicle tracks, off the flagged route, doesn’t mean it’s safe,” he said.
A frozen melting pot: The world comes together in Antarctica
Published in the Antarctic Sun
Antarctica is the second-smallest continent, home to over 100 research stations run by 29 countries. Here is a brief look at the activities of the other nations conducting research in Antarctica.
Argentina is operating 12 stations, six year-round, and six summer-only. Its program began in 1904, when a remote weather station was installed on Laurie Island in the South Orkneys. Argentina participates in a number of cooperative efforts with Antarctic Treaty members and consultative parties, including U.S. institutions.
Website: http://www.dna.gov.ar/
Australia has four major bases in Antarctica. The Australian program started in 1947, with the first Australian National Antarctic Research Expedition. The program involves about 400
people each year, including 250 researchers. Wintering teams number 15 to 20 per
station.
Annual budget: $46 million
Website: http://www.antdiv.gov.au/
Belgium is not currently operating any permanent stations or bases. The country is a founding member of the Antarctic Treaty. Its scientific research program began in 1985, and has consisted of a series of three-year studies by university-based scientists.
Website: http://www.belspo.be/antar
Brazil operates one research station, Ferraz, on King George Island.
Website: http://www.mar.br/~secirm/proantar.htm
Bulgaria operates one research station, St. Kliment Ochridski, on Livingston Island. The first Bulgarian to visit the Antarctic went with the 13th Soviet Antarctic Expedition in 1967-1969. Since then, several scientists have traveled to Antarctica with the British, Soviet and Spanish programs. An ice-core drilling project is in development, as are improvements to the base infrastructure.
Canada is not operating any bases. In 1993 the Canadian Antarctic Research Program began to expand Canadian polar studies to the southern hemisphere. Canada publishes a newsletter
on Antarctic research and maintains a database of individuals and organizations interested in Canadian Antarctic work. One goal of the Canadian program is to exchange foreign access to Canadian research sites in the Arctic for Canadian access to other countries’ sites in Antarctica.
Website: http://www.polarcom.gc.ca/
Chile has 10 stations in Antarctica, four permanent and six summer-only. Chile participated in the International Geophysical Year (1957-1958), but sent its first expedition to the Antarctic in 1916.
Website: http://www.inach.cl/
China runs two stations in the Antarctic. In January 1980 the first Chinese scientists traveled to Antarctica to visit Australia’s Casey Station. In February 1985 the first Chinese station, Great Wall Station, was established on King George Island in the South Shetlands. In winter, the two Chinese stations house 35 to 45 people combined, and up to 100 during the summer.
Ecuador, though a member of COMNAP, is not currently operating any permanent stations or bases.
Finland runs one summer-only station, Aboa in Queen Maud Land. At the site is a year-round automated weather station. Finland’s first large expedition was in 1989, involving scientists at Aboa and on the Aranda. Finland often cooperates with Norway and Sweden, as well as conducting long-term ozone research with Argentina.
Website: http://www.fimr.fi/
France has four stations, including its shared station with Italy at Dome C. Researchers winter at two of the stations, Dumont d’Urville and Charcot in Adelie Land. Dumont d’Urville’s population
varies from about 26 in the winter to 80 in the summer.
Annual budget: $9 million, plus $15 million for administration.
Website: http://www.ifremer.fr/ifrtp/
Germany operates two stations. Neumayer Station has a winter population of 9 or 10, and a summer contingent of about 60. A cleanup of former East German Antarctic research stations is underway as part of the program’s environmental monitoring effort.
Website: http://www.awibremerhaven.de/
India has one Antarctic research station, Maitri, in Queen Maud Land. In 1981 the first Indian Antarctic Expedition began the program. It joined the Antarctic Treaty consultative nations in September 1983, just after the first Indians wintered on the Prince Astrid Ice Shelf.
Italy operates two stations, including its joint station with France, Concordia, at Dome C. It signed the Antarctic Treaty in 1981, and began Antarctic research in 1985. The main station at present, Terra Nova Bay station, can hold 70 people. Cooperation in logistics and science
between Italy, the U.S., and New Zealand has increased significantly.
Annual budget: $35 million
Website: http://www.pnra.it/
Japan operates four stations in Antarctica. Its first expedition was on board the Soya in 1956. Research programs have been done every year since then.
Annual budget: $35 million
Website: http://www.nipr.ac.jp/
Korea has one station, King Sejong, operating year-round on King George Island. Korea has been conducting Antarctic research since 1987. King Sejong’s population numbers about 15 in the winter and up to 60 in the summer.
Website: http://www.kordi.re.kr
The Netherlands is not currently operating any stations or bases. One of the major research policies is not constructing new research facilities, but instead using the infrastructure of other
nations in collaborative efforts. Sailors from the Dutch East India Company sighted several sub-Antarctic islands in the 16th century. The Netherlands has been engaged in scientific
researching since the mid-1960s, when three expeditions were developed in collaboration with Belgium. In 1990-1991, the Netherlands rented half of the Polish Arctowski Station, rather than build their own facilities. Projects involve collaboration with German, U.K., Australian, and New
Zealand researchers, among other nations.
Annual budget: $1.8 million
Website: http://www.nwo.nl/english/alw/programmes/antarctica
New Zealand runs one base, Scott Base, on Ross Island, which has been occupied since the International Geophysical Year. Scott Base has a peak summer population of 86, which drops to 10 in the winter. The program uses Arrival Heights for some research, as well as maintaining
eight research and emergency shelters in the Ross Sea and the Dry Valleys. Christchurch, New Zealand, is a major gateway to the Antarctic, where the U.S., New Zealand, and Italian research
programs have offices. The New Zealand program also supports the Antarctic Heritage Trust,
which protects and maintains the historic huts and sites of the Ross Sea area. New Zealand is heavily involved in collaborations, partnering in the six-nation Cape Roberts Project, as well as
other projects with the United States, Italy, France, Chile, Sweden, Switzerland, South Africa, China and Australia.
Annual budget: $8 million
Website: http://www.antarcticanz.govt.nz/
Norway runs two stations, both in Queen Maud Land. Norway participates with Sweden and Finland in shared responsibility for Antarctic expeditions.
1996 annual budget: $6 million
Website: http://www.npolar.no/
Peru operates one station, Macchu Picchu, in the region of the Antarctic Peninsula.
Poland has one station, Arctowski, on King George Island. In 1976 Poland began research in the
Antarctic with five marine expeditions to the South Shetlands. The Arctowski station opened in
1977 and has operated continuously since then. The base houses 70 people in summer and 20 in winter. Collaborative projects join twelve Polish institutes and universities, as well as institutions in Belgium, Brazil, Germany, and the Netherlands.
Russia runs eight stations, three summer-only and five year-round, including Vostok, on the polar plateau. In 1956 the Soviet Union began research in Antarctica. The research was run primarily in institutes based in what became the Russian Republic. Russia succeeded the U.S.S.R. in the Antarctic Treaty system. The year-round stations together house 144 year-round personnel, while the summer season sees an increase of 162 people. The country has economic difficulties which has made Antarctic research difficult to maintain. International
collaboration has been part of the process by which Russia has maintained a high level of research while cutting costs significantly.
1995 annual budget: $10.5 million
South Africa operates two stations, the larger of which is SANAE IV in Queen Maud Land. There is also a year-round weather station on Gough Island. South African Antarctic research began in the International Geophysical Year. South Africa was an original signatory of the Antarctic Treaty.
Annual budget: $500,000
Website: http://home.intekom.com/sanae/
Spain has two stations, both in the South Shetland Islands. It also has an ice-strengthened vessel, the Hesperides. All three operate only in the summer; the stations can house 12 people each, while the ship can host 30 scientists, plus the crew.
Annual budget: $6 million
Sweden has two stations, both in Queen Maud Land. Sweden has long been involved in Arctic research. In the 1980s it extended its research to the Antarctic. Sweden, Finland and Norway have an agreement to share expedition costs and research benefits. Collaborative efforts are also under way with the British, the U.S., and other European Antarctic research organizations.
Website: http://www.polar.kva.se/
Ukraine operates one research station, Vernadsky, on the Antarctic Peninsula.
The United Kingdom has four stations in Antarctica. U.K. scientists have been active in Antarctic research for over 75 years. The British Antarctic Survey has been the primary Antarctic planning and coordination organization for the past 56 years. About 40 staff spend the winter at
the four stations combined. In the summer, field parties deploy primarily from Rothera, the largest base, which can house 120. The program has 180 scientists among its 420-person staff.
Recently research collaboration has increased, especially with Germany.
Annual budget: $42 million
Website: http://www.antarctica.ac.uk/
The United States operates three year-round stations, a number of smaller field camps on a summer-only basis, and unattended year-round observatories.
1995 annual budget: $197 million
Website: http://www.nsf.gov/od/opp/arctic/iarpc/start.htm
Uruguay has one station on the continent, Artigas, on King George Island. In 1776 the country first issued licenses for fishing in the southern seas. The first Antarctic research began in 1975, with the first expedition to the continent in 1984.
This information is condensed from material located at www.comnap.aq, the website of the Council of Managers of National Antarctic Programs.
Antarctica is the second-smallest continent, home to over 100 research stations run by 29 countries. Here is a brief look at the activities of the other nations conducting research in Antarctica.
Argentina is operating 12 stations, six year-round, and six summer-only. Its program began in 1904, when a remote weather station was installed on Laurie Island in the South Orkneys. Argentina participates in a number of cooperative efforts with Antarctic Treaty members and consultative parties, including U.S. institutions.
Website: http://www.dna.gov.ar/
Australia has four major bases in Antarctica. The Australian program started in 1947, with the first Australian National Antarctic Research Expedition. The program involves about 400
people each year, including 250 researchers. Wintering teams number 15 to 20 per
station.
Annual budget: $46 million
Website: http://www.antdiv.gov.au/
Belgium is not currently operating any permanent stations or bases. The country is a founding member of the Antarctic Treaty. Its scientific research program began in 1985, and has consisted of a series of three-year studies by university-based scientists.
Website: http://www.belspo.be/antar
Brazil operates one research station, Ferraz, on King George Island.
Website: http://www.mar.br/~secirm/proantar.htm
Bulgaria operates one research station, St. Kliment Ochridski, on Livingston Island. The first Bulgarian to visit the Antarctic went with the 13th Soviet Antarctic Expedition in 1967-1969. Since then, several scientists have traveled to Antarctica with the British, Soviet and Spanish programs. An ice-core drilling project is in development, as are improvements to the base infrastructure.
Canada is not operating any bases. In 1993 the Canadian Antarctic Research Program began to expand Canadian polar studies to the southern hemisphere. Canada publishes a newsletter
on Antarctic research and maintains a database of individuals and organizations interested in Canadian Antarctic work. One goal of the Canadian program is to exchange foreign access to Canadian research sites in the Arctic for Canadian access to other countries’ sites in Antarctica.
Website: http://www.polarcom.gc.ca/
Chile has 10 stations in Antarctica, four permanent and six summer-only. Chile participated in the International Geophysical Year (1957-1958), but sent its first expedition to the Antarctic in 1916.
Website: http://www.inach.cl/
China runs two stations in the Antarctic. In January 1980 the first Chinese scientists traveled to Antarctica to visit Australia’s Casey Station. In February 1985 the first Chinese station, Great Wall Station, was established on King George Island in the South Shetlands. In winter, the two Chinese stations house 35 to 45 people combined, and up to 100 during the summer.
Ecuador, though a member of COMNAP, is not currently operating any permanent stations or bases.
Finland runs one summer-only station, Aboa in Queen Maud Land. At the site is a year-round automated weather station. Finland’s first large expedition was in 1989, involving scientists at Aboa and on the Aranda. Finland often cooperates with Norway and Sweden, as well as conducting long-term ozone research with Argentina.
Website: http://www.fimr.fi/
France has four stations, including its shared station with Italy at Dome C. Researchers winter at two of the stations, Dumont d’Urville and Charcot in Adelie Land. Dumont d’Urville’s population
varies from about 26 in the winter to 80 in the summer.
Annual budget: $9 million, plus $15 million for administration.
Website: http://www.ifremer.fr/ifrtp/
Germany operates two stations. Neumayer Station has a winter population of 9 or 10, and a summer contingent of about 60. A cleanup of former East German Antarctic research stations is underway as part of the program’s environmental monitoring effort.
Website: http://www.awibremerhaven.de/
India has one Antarctic research station, Maitri, in Queen Maud Land. In 1981 the first Indian Antarctic Expedition began the program. It joined the Antarctic Treaty consultative nations in September 1983, just after the first Indians wintered on the Prince Astrid Ice Shelf.
Italy operates two stations, including its joint station with France, Concordia, at Dome C. It signed the Antarctic Treaty in 1981, and began Antarctic research in 1985. The main station at present, Terra Nova Bay station, can hold 70 people. Cooperation in logistics and science
between Italy, the U.S., and New Zealand has increased significantly.
Annual budget: $35 million
Website: http://www.pnra.it/
Japan operates four stations in Antarctica. Its first expedition was on board the Soya in 1956. Research programs have been done every year since then.
Annual budget: $35 million
Website: http://www.nipr.ac.jp/
Korea has one station, King Sejong, operating year-round on King George Island. Korea has been conducting Antarctic research since 1987. King Sejong’s population numbers about 15 in the winter and up to 60 in the summer.
Website: http://www.kordi.re.kr
The Netherlands is not currently operating any stations or bases. One of the major research policies is not constructing new research facilities, but instead using the infrastructure of other
nations in collaborative efforts. Sailors from the Dutch East India Company sighted several sub-Antarctic islands in the 16th century. The Netherlands has been engaged in scientific
researching since the mid-1960s, when three expeditions were developed in collaboration with Belgium. In 1990-1991, the Netherlands rented half of the Polish Arctowski Station, rather than build their own facilities. Projects involve collaboration with German, U.K., Australian, and New
Zealand researchers, among other nations.
Annual budget: $1.8 million
Website: http://www.nwo.nl/english/alw/programmes/antarctica
New Zealand runs one base, Scott Base, on Ross Island, which has been occupied since the International Geophysical Year. Scott Base has a peak summer population of 86, which drops to 10 in the winter. The program uses Arrival Heights for some research, as well as maintaining
eight research and emergency shelters in the Ross Sea and the Dry Valleys. Christchurch, New Zealand, is a major gateway to the Antarctic, where the U.S., New Zealand, and Italian research
programs have offices. The New Zealand program also supports the Antarctic Heritage Trust,
which protects and maintains the historic huts and sites of the Ross Sea area. New Zealand is heavily involved in collaborations, partnering in the six-nation Cape Roberts Project, as well as
other projects with the United States, Italy, France, Chile, Sweden, Switzerland, South Africa, China and Australia.
Annual budget: $8 million
Website: http://www.antarcticanz.govt.nz/
Norway runs two stations, both in Queen Maud Land. Norway participates with Sweden and Finland in shared responsibility for Antarctic expeditions.
1996 annual budget: $6 million
Website: http://www.npolar.no/
Peru operates one station, Macchu Picchu, in the region of the Antarctic Peninsula.
Poland has one station, Arctowski, on King George Island. In 1976 Poland began research in the
Antarctic with five marine expeditions to the South Shetlands. The Arctowski station opened in
1977 and has operated continuously since then. The base houses 70 people in summer and 20 in winter. Collaborative projects join twelve Polish institutes and universities, as well as institutions in Belgium, Brazil, Germany, and the Netherlands.
Russia runs eight stations, three summer-only and five year-round, including Vostok, on the polar plateau. In 1956 the Soviet Union began research in Antarctica. The research was run primarily in institutes based in what became the Russian Republic. Russia succeeded the U.S.S.R. in the Antarctic Treaty system. The year-round stations together house 144 year-round personnel, while the summer season sees an increase of 162 people. The country has economic difficulties which has made Antarctic research difficult to maintain. International
collaboration has been part of the process by which Russia has maintained a high level of research while cutting costs significantly.
1995 annual budget: $10.5 million
South Africa operates two stations, the larger of which is SANAE IV in Queen Maud Land. There is also a year-round weather station on Gough Island. South African Antarctic research began in the International Geophysical Year. South Africa was an original signatory of the Antarctic Treaty.
Annual budget: $500,000
Website: http://home.intekom.com/sanae/
Spain has two stations, both in the South Shetland Islands. It also has an ice-strengthened vessel, the Hesperides. All three operate only in the summer; the stations can house 12 people each, while the ship can host 30 scientists, plus the crew.
Annual budget: $6 million
Sweden has two stations, both in Queen Maud Land. Sweden has long been involved in Arctic research. In the 1980s it extended its research to the Antarctic. Sweden, Finland and Norway have an agreement to share expedition costs and research benefits. Collaborative efforts are also under way with the British, the U.S., and other European Antarctic research organizations.
Website: http://www.polar.kva.se/
Ukraine operates one research station, Vernadsky, on the Antarctic Peninsula.
The United Kingdom has four stations in Antarctica. U.K. scientists have been active in Antarctic research for over 75 years. The British Antarctic Survey has been the primary Antarctic planning and coordination organization for the past 56 years. About 40 staff spend the winter at
the four stations combined. In the summer, field parties deploy primarily from Rothera, the largest base, which can house 120. The program has 180 scientists among its 420-person staff.
Recently research collaboration has increased, especially with Germany.
Annual budget: $42 million
Website: http://www.antarctica.ac.uk/
The United States operates three year-round stations, a number of smaller field camps on a summer-only basis, and unattended year-round observatories.
1995 annual budget: $197 million
Website: http://www.nsf.gov/od/opp/arctic/iarpc/start.htm
Uruguay has one station on the continent, Artigas, on King George Island. In 1776 the country first issued licenses for fishing in the southern seas. The first Antarctic research began in 1975, with the first expedition to the continent in 1984.
This information is condensed from material located at www.comnap.aq, the website of the Council of Managers of National Antarctic Programs.
SOARing to new depths
Published in the Antarctic Sun
A small team of researchers is painting the white-on-white landscape of Antarctica in bright colors. The Support Office for Aerogeophysical Research, headed by Don Blankenship of the University of Texas at Austin, is looking at the continent in ways many scientists have only imagined.
SOAR is a consortium of researchers looking at how ice and rock interact in Antarctica. Their maps are in full color, showing different types of rocks and land formations, often over a mile under the ice sheet.
The researchers fly in a Twin Otter airplane over swaths of area larger than the state of Maine, to look at the ice-flow systems in key regions of the continent.
“We’re trying to figure out how geology influenced the formation of the ice sheets,” Blankenship said.
The airplane is crammed with electronics, so many that it takes two to three weeks to configure properly.
That’s after the plane’s structure was so radically modified that it required its own certification from Canada’s Ministry of Transport before Kenn Borek Air was allowed to fly it.
“The airplane was put together to do both geology and glaciology projects at once,” Blankenship said. In addition to the internal instrumentation, it has antennas hanging off the wings.
The electronics are all sophisticated sensors, measuring the plane’s height above the ice, using ice-penetrating radar to look at the rock beneath the ice, and also measuring the strength of the
gravity and magnetic pull of the rocks.
The gravity of the rocks, when separated from the influence of the Earth’s pull, shows how dense the rock is, giving clues to its composition. When that is combined with information about the
rock’s magnetic properties, the type of rock can be identified quite accurately.
Putting all this information together into a meaningful picture, Blankenship said, requires an additional layer of sophisticated equipment and calculation.
The airplane has several GPS units onboard, which measure the position of the plane to within four inches.
With that data, and the results from the instruments, Blankenship and his team create incredibly accurate maps of the ice and the surface beneath the ice sheets covering Antarctica.
“We’re good to within 10 centimeters,” Blankenship said.
They can find sediments, holes, changes in ice-sheet layering, and other phenomena. The SOAR team helps teams like ITASE choose routes for traverses, sites for ice-coring, and helps predict how what they find relates to other locations around the continent.
Their radar also lets them see significant layers in the ice sheet.
“It’s essentially virtual ice coring,” Blankenship said. The next actual deepcore site in West Antarctica will be chosen by the SOAR team, in collaboration with the ITASE researchers.
This season they made several excursions, one completing work they have been preparing for since 1992.
The plane and equipment flew routes over the transition from the Ross Sea to the Transantarctic Mountains, across the mountains to the Wilkes Basin and all the way to Aurora Highlands.
This cross-section of an area of the continent about which little is known geophysically was very important.
“We can get a really good handle on the evolution of the whole area,” Blankenship said.
The planning and organization resulted in use of several locations for this research and other work this season: McMurdo, Dome C, Mid C, Byrd and Siple Dome camps were all bases for SOAR flights.
For eight years the project has been underway to help explain why the Transantarctic Mountains are where they are. But once it’s all set, things move quickly.
“It took, what, 15 days to do,” Blankenship said. Good flying weather and few equipment difficulties were part of the success, as was increased computing power.
After a four-hour flight, the plane and equipment need about 90 minutes to refuel and recalibrate instruments. During that time, the researchers can take a provisional look at their data and get a sense of how reliable it is. Even just a few years ago, researchers needed more than five hours to do the same task.
“The quality of the data we get is really outstanding for the remoteness of the environment,” Blankenship said.
A small team of researchers is painting the white-on-white landscape of Antarctica in bright colors. The Support Office for Aerogeophysical Research, headed by Don Blankenship of the University of Texas at Austin, is looking at the continent in ways many scientists have only imagined.
SOAR is a consortium of researchers looking at how ice and rock interact in Antarctica. Their maps are in full color, showing different types of rocks and land formations, often over a mile under the ice sheet.
The researchers fly in a Twin Otter airplane over swaths of area larger than the state of Maine, to look at the ice-flow systems in key regions of the continent.
“We’re trying to figure out how geology influenced the formation of the ice sheets,” Blankenship said.
The airplane is crammed with electronics, so many that it takes two to three weeks to configure properly.
That’s after the plane’s structure was so radically modified that it required its own certification from Canada’s Ministry of Transport before Kenn Borek Air was allowed to fly it.
“The airplane was put together to do both geology and glaciology projects at once,” Blankenship said. In addition to the internal instrumentation, it has antennas hanging off the wings.
The electronics are all sophisticated sensors, measuring the plane’s height above the ice, using ice-penetrating radar to look at the rock beneath the ice, and also measuring the strength of the
gravity and magnetic pull of the rocks.
The gravity of the rocks, when separated from the influence of the Earth’s pull, shows how dense the rock is, giving clues to its composition. When that is combined with information about the
rock’s magnetic properties, the type of rock can be identified quite accurately.
Putting all this information together into a meaningful picture, Blankenship said, requires an additional layer of sophisticated equipment and calculation.
The airplane has several GPS units onboard, which measure the position of the plane to within four inches.
With that data, and the results from the instruments, Blankenship and his team create incredibly accurate maps of the ice and the surface beneath the ice sheets covering Antarctica.
“We’re good to within 10 centimeters,” Blankenship said.
They can find sediments, holes, changes in ice-sheet layering, and other phenomena. The SOAR team helps teams like ITASE choose routes for traverses, sites for ice-coring, and helps predict how what they find relates to other locations around the continent.
Their radar also lets them see significant layers in the ice sheet.
“It’s essentially virtual ice coring,” Blankenship said. The next actual deepcore site in West Antarctica will be chosen by the SOAR team, in collaboration with the ITASE researchers.
This season they made several excursions, one completing work they have been preparing for since 1992.
The plane and equipment flew routes over the transition from the Ross Sea to the Transantarctic Mountains, across the mountains to the Wilkes Basin and all the way to Aurora Highlands.
This cross-section of an area of the continent about which little is known geophysically was very important.
“We can get a really good handle on the evolution of the whole area,” Blankenship said.
The planning and organization resulted in use of several locations for this research and other work this season: McMurdo, Dome C, Mid C, Byrd and Siple Dome camps were all bases for SOAR flights.
For eight years the project has been underway to help explain why the Transantarctic Mountains are where they are. But once it’s all set, things move quickly.
“It took, what, 15 days to do,” Blankenship said. Good flying weather and few equipment difficulties were part of the success, as was increased computing power.
After a four-hour flight, the plane and equipment need about 90 minutes to refuel and recalibrate instruments. During that time, the researchers can take a provisional look at their data and get a sense of how reliable it is. Even just a few years ago, researchers needed more than five hours to do the same task.
“The quality of the data we get is really outstanding for the remoteness of the environment,” Blankenship said.
Sunday, January 30, 2000
Pinsetting for dollars
Published in the Antarctic Sun
Housed in the basement of McMurdo’s Building 63 are two bowling lanes, one of a few remaining manually-set alleys in the world. The exact number is difficult to know, because they are so small and so rare.
The lanes were the site of last week’s bowling tournament final match, won by the Freshies, with the help of the people behind the pins.
Several McMurdo residents are pinsetters in their spare time, earning minimum wage and tips from bowlers.
It’s a rough job, involving constant bending and lifting in a confined space, moving speedily so as not to delay the bowlers, and also avoiding the 10- to 16-pound balls which hurtle down the lanes.
There aren’t all that many pinsetters today. In earlier days of bowling, fallen pins were collected by hand and re-set in place individually, often by young people, called “pin boys.”
At the end of World War II, there was a shortage of willing pin boys. Technology offered another solution, automated pinsetters. These were often cheaper to run, since one or two people could service numerous lanes at once.
“It’s very rare to find people who manually set the pins anymore,” Jim Dressel, editor of Bowler’s Journal International, said in a phone interview.
The machines themselves are also of interest.
“They’re antiques and they’re very valuable,” said spokeswoman Jackie Twa of Brunswick, the corporation which made the pinsetting trays used at McMurdo’s lanes.
Despite the lack of replacement parts, “you could sell them for a lot of money and buy a new center,” Twa said.
Dressel was surprised to learn of the existence of McMurdo’s artifact.
He recalled that in the 1940s and 1950s there were a number of bowling alleys installed in military bases around the world.
But the automated setters used by most bowling centers nowadays were first introduced in 1945 by AML, Dressel said. Brunswick started making them in 1950, he said.
The manual pinsetters in Building 63 carry the following information on the manufacturer’s label: “Style B-10,Brunswick-Balke-Collender.” The machines are serial numbers 1023 and 1028.
The company changed its name from Brunswick-Balke-Collender to Brunswick Corporation on April 18, 1960, according to Linda Haschke, a marketing representative for Brunswick.
Housed in the basement of McMurdo’s Building 63 are two bowling lanes, one of a few remaining manually-set alleys in the world. The exact number is difficult to know, because they are so small and so rare.
The lanes were the site of last week’s bowling tournament final match, won by the Freshies, with the help of the people behind the pins.
Several McMurdo residents are pinsetters in their spare time, earning minimum wage and tips from bowlers.
It’s a rough job, involving constant bending and lifting in a confined space, moving speedily so as not to delay the bowlers, and also avoiding the 10- to 16-pound balls which hurtle down the lanes.
There aren’t all that many pinsetters today. In earlier days of bowling, fallen pins were collected by hand and re-set in place individually, often by young people, called “pin boys.”
At the end of World War II, there was a shortage of willing pin boys. Technology offered another solution, automated pinsetters. These were often cheaper to run, since one or two people could service numerous lanes at once.
“It’s very rare to find people who manually set the pins anymore,” Jim Dressel, editor of Bowler’s Journal International, said in a phone interview.
The machines themselves are also of interest.
“They’re antiques and they’re very valuable,” said spokeswoman Jackie Twa of Brunswick, the corporation which made the pinsetting trays used at McMurdo’s lanes.
Despite the lack of replacement parts, “you could sell them for a lot of money and buy a new center,” Twa said.
Dressel was surprised to learn of the existence of McMurdo’s artifact.
He recalled that in the 1940s and 1950s there were a number of bowling alleys installed in military bases around the world.
But the automated setters used by most bowling centers nowadays were first introduced in 1945 by AML, Dressel said. Brunswick started making them in 1950, he said.
The manual pinsetters in Building 63 carry the following information on the manufacturer’s label: “Style B-10,Brunswick-Balke-Collender.” The machines are serial numbers 1023 and 1028.
The company changed its name from Brunswick-Balke-Collender to Brunswick Corporation on April 18, 1960, according to Linda Haschke, a marketing representative for Brunswick.
Sunday, January 23, 2000
It's a bird, it's a plane, it's a Hammerhead!
Published in the Antarctic Sun
It was a windy day out over the sea ice.
Coast Guard Lt. Tom McDevitt, the pilot, and flight mechanic Mark Henley were checking out sea ice conditions and “waving the flag” at the tourist ships in McMurdo Sound.
The pair made an efficient team. Henley’s suggestions were quietly worded questions, like “How much fuel are you leaving for the return trip?”
McDevitt answered, “400 pounds,” but later revised his plan, noting Henley’s implicit suggestion that the wind would be against them on the trip home.
The men are part of a 14-person Coast Guard helicopter crew temporarily stationed in McMurdo. Normally based either in Mobile, Alabama, or on one of the Coast Guard’s icebreakers, the team is now flying their two aircraft from a pad near the Chalet.
The crew, who call themselves the “Hammerheads,” but whose name is officially Aviation Detachment 146, started preparing for this trip in September. They did a lot of work on the helicopters, to be sure they’d be in top flying condition.
In October, the team flew to Seattle to meet up with the Polar Star for its cruise south. On the journey to Antarctica, they passed through areas of the Pacific Ocean that don’t normally get visits from the Coast Guard.
The helicopters flew off the icebreaker at various times to inspect ships in U.S. territorial waters, or to identify vessels suspected of smuggling drugs or illegal immigrants. Those tasks are major parts of the Coast Guard’s job, and even on a trip in international waters, information-gathering
helps U.S.-based crews enforce the law more effectively.
“We go to spots where most of our Coast Guard units don’t get to go,” said unit leader Lt. Cmdr. Rich Jackson.
As well, the ship and helicopters were always on call for rescue missions, had there been vessels in trouble nearby.
The trip to Antarctica and back takes six months. Jackson has planned for 300 hours of flying during that period, and expects to use it all. Some of it was spent on the way down, and some will be spent on the way back.
But most of the flying happens around Ross Island.
The helicopter crews are doing all kinds of work, from remote weather station maintenance to morale flights to the ice edge.
Most of their work involves support of the Polar Star, doing reconnaissance of ice conditions before the ship begins breaking ice, or ferrying people and equipment between the ship and the land.
“It’s probably the most demanding flying that we do in the Coast Guard,” Jackson said. The weather conditions and logistics make it much more difficult than flying from a ground station in the States. Not only do the helicopters have to carry skis on many missions over ice, but the crews need extra survival gear. Fuel-use margins are also stricter here, where weather can ground flights for long periods.
The ship can help, by positioning itself at a midway point in a long route, so the helicopters have somewhere to land if the weather turns ugly.
But even landing on the icebreaker can be very difficult: The ship’s hull is rounded for better icebreaking, but that means it rolls more in the waves than would a vessel with a sharper keel.
“We fly all over the world and sit there a while,” said rescue swimmer Steve Lurati, who has a brand of laconic sarcasm similar to the crew members. In a way, he’s right.
Jackson pointed out that Lt. Scott Craig, the engineering officer, much prefers scheduled maintenance to fixing broken equipment. So the mechanics work hard on regular preventive work and mostly avoid repairing parts on short notice.
Jackson also said this is the most motivated crew he’s worked with on the Ice, which helps because, as with everything in Antarctica, nothing goes exactly as planned.
“It’s never the same game twice,” he said.
The crew will be in McMurdo until the icebreaker departs with the Greenwave for the return journey to the U.S. The helicopters will fly off the breaker in San Francisco in April, and head back to Alabama.
It was a windy day out over the sea ice.
Coast Guard Lt. Tom McDevitt, the pilot, and flight mechanic Mark Henley were checking out sea ice conditions and “waving the flag” at the tourist ships in McMurdo Sound.
The pair made an efficient team. Henley’s suggestions were quietly worded questions, like “How much fuel are you leaving for the return trip?”
McDevitt answered, “400 pounds,” but later revised his plan, noting Henley’s implicit suggestion that the wind would be against them on the trip home.
The men are part of a 14-person Coast Guard helicopter crew temporarily stationed in McMurdo. Normally based either in Mobile, Alabama, or on one of the Coast Guard’s icebreakers, the team is now flying their two aircraft from a pad near the Chalet.
The crew, who call themselves the “Hammerheads,” but whose name is officially Aviation Detachment 146, started preparing for this trip in September. They did a lot of work on the helicopters, to be sure they’d be in top flying condition.
In October, the team flew to Seattle to meet up with the Polar Star for its cruise south. On the journey to Antarctica, they passed through areas of the Pacific Ocean that don’t normally get visits from the Coast Guard.
The helicopters flew off the icebreaker at various times to inspect ships in U.S. territorial waters, or to identify vessels suspected of smuggling drugs or illegal immigrants. Those tasks are major parts of the Coast Guard’s job, and even on a trip in international waters, information-gathering
helps U.S.-based crews enforce the law more effectively.
“We go to spots where most of our Coast Guard units don’t get to go,” said unit leader Lt. Cmdr. Rich Jackson.
As well, the ship and helicopters were always on call for rescue missions, had there been vessels in trouble nearby.
The trip to Antarctica and back takes six months. Jackson has planned for 300 hours of flying during that period, and expects to use it all. Some of it was spent on the way down, and some will be spent on the way back.
But most of the flying happens around Ross Island.
The helicopter crews are doing all kinds of work, from remote weather station maintenance to morale flights to the ice edge.
Most of their work involves support of the Polar Star, doing reconnaissance of ice conditions before the ship begins breaking ice, or ferrying people and equipment between the ship and the land.
“It’s probably the most demanding flying that we do in the Coast Guard,” Jackson said. The weather conditions and logistics make it much more difficult than flying from a ground station in the States. Not only do the helicopters have to carry skis on many missions over ice, but the crews need extra survival gear. Fuel-use margins are also stricter here, where weather can ground flights for long periods.
The ship can help, by positioning itself at a midway point in a long route, so the helicopters have somewhere to land if the weather turns ugly.
But even landing on the icebreaker can be very difficult: The ship’s hull is rounded for better icebreaking, but that means it rolls more in the waves than would a vessel with a sharper keel.
“We fly all over the world and sit there a while,” said rescue swimmer Steve Lurati, who has a brand of laconic sarcasm similar to the crew members. In a way, he’s right.
Jackson pointed out that Lt. Scott Craig, the engineering officer, much prefers scheduled maintenance to fixing broken equipment. So the mechanics work hard on regular preventive work and mostly avoid repairing parts on short notice.
Jackson also said this is the most motivated crew he’s worked with on the Ice, which helps because, as with everything in Antarctica, nothing goes exactly as planned.
“It’s never the same game twice,” he said.
The crew will be in McMurdo until the icebreaker departs with the Greenwave for the return journey to the U.S. The helicopters will fly off the breaker in San Francisco in April, and head back to Alabama.
Sunday, January 16, 2000
Out of Africa: A polar researcher
Published in the Antarctic Sun
Outside an elevated building near the South Pole, an Egyptian flag flaps in the polar wind. It belongs to Ashraf El Dakrouri, a laser scientist at the Aerophysical Research Observatory at South Pole Station.
El Dakrouri is the first Egyptian at the South Pole. For that matter, he pointed out, he is the first
person from either an Arab or a Muslim nation to go to the South Pole.
It’s a long way from Cairo to 90 degrees south, and El Dakrouri plans to winter at the pole as part of his research on the temperature of the mesosphere. He’s never done anything quite like this before.
“I don’t know what will happen,” El Dakrouri said. But he is in good spirits and is looking forward to the challenge. The experience may be even more difficult for him than for most pole winterovers.
El Dakrouri was married only a year and a half ago. He and his wife have a 6-month-old son in Cairo. They live with her family, and with his also nearby, there is plenty of help available.
“She lives with a lot of people, not like me,” El Dakrouri said.
He asked his wife about the possibility of his coming to the South Pole. She was initially reluctant, he said, but she eventually agreed, on the condition that he call every week. He does, using the phone facilities available each weekend.
Being away from family is tough, El Dakrouri said. But being able to do this sort of work, and being a pioneer for African Antarctic research, are important, too, he said.
It has been especially difficult to be away from home recently, during the Muslim holy month of Ramadan. It is a time of fasting and then feasting, usually with family. El Dakrouri is alone this Ramadan.
“The Egyptian people prefer to spend Ramadan in Egypt,” he said. “Next year I will spend Ramadan in Egypt.”
The year after that, he things he might come back to Antarctica the following year.
Ramadan has been strange for El Dakrouri, too, since eating is forbidden between sunrise and sunset. In a land with 24-hour daylight, that doesn’t quite work.
He knew he would have to deal with this, and asked religious leaders in Egypt what to do. They told him he could use the time of sunrise and sunset in the nearest country, so El Dakrouri is using New Zealand.
The fast is longer here, because of the higher latitude of New Zealand. In Egypt, he said, the time between sunrise and sunset is usually 12 to 15 hours, but here it is nearly 18.
“I try to sleep,” El Dakrouri said of how he spends his fasting time.
The galley staff at the station accommodate his unusual mealtimes, and help him avoid pork, a forbidden food for Muslims. They sometimes make a separate portion for him so it’s hot when he comes in to eat around 8 p.m.
Ramadan recently ended. Instead of the traditional celebration marking the end of the month, El Dakrouri did something a bit different.
“I try to make something fun for my feast,” he said. He headed to McMurdo for a couple of days to telephone his friends and family in Egypt.
He will return to Egypt at the beginning of next summer, to report back to the National Institute of Laser Science in Cairo, where he is a researcher, and to return to his teaching duties at Cairo University.
He feels some pressure now, though. Not only is his work new research, but he wants to become a better instructor as a result of his time here.
“I must take something higher to teach the students afterward,” El Dakrouri said. “A lot of students have a lot of ideas.”
He wants to encourage them to follow their dreams. He also hopes to make a good impression on the U.S. program and on his fellow researchers. He believes he is a representative of scientists from Egypt, Africa, and the Arab and Muslim worlds, who may one day work in Antarctica too.
“If you are the first person to so something, you want to do it very well,” El Dakrouri said. “I am a beginning. I hope a lot of people come after that.”
Outside an elevated building near the South Pole, an Egyptian flag flaps in the polar wind. It belongs to Ashraf El Dakrouri, a laser scientist at the Aerophysical Research Observatory at South Pole Station.
El Dakrouri is the first Egyptian at the South Pole. For that matter, he pointed out, he is the first
person from either an Arab or a Muslim nation to go to the South Pole.
It’s a long way from Cairo to 90 degrees south, and El Dakrouri plans to winter at the pole as part of his research on the temperature of the mesosphere. He’s never done anything quite like this before.
“I don’t know what will happen,” El Dakrouri said. But he is in good spirits and is looking forward to the challenge. The experience may be even more difficult for him than for most pole winterovers.
El Dakrouri was married only a year and a half ago. He and his wife have a 6-month-old son in Cairo. They live with her family, and with his also nearby, there is plenty of help available.
“She lives with a lot of people, not like me,” El Dakrouri said.
He asked his wife about the possibility of his coming to the South Pole. She was initially reluctant, he said, but she eventually agreed, on the condition that he call every week. He does, using the phone facilities available each weekend.
Being away from family is tough, El Dakrouri said. But being able to do this sort of work, and being a pioneer for African Antarctic research, are important, too, he said.
It has been especially difficult to be away from home recently, during the Muslim holy month of Ramadan. It is a time of fasting and then feasting, usually with family. El Dakrouri is alone this Ramadan.
“The Egyptian people prefer to spend Ramadan in Egypt,” he said. “Next year I will spend Ramadan in Egypt.”
The year after that, he things he might come back to Antarctica the following year.
Ramadan has been strange for El Dakrouri, too, since eating is forbidden between sunrise and sunset. In a land with 24-hour daylight, that doesn’t quite work.
He knew he would have to deal with this, and asked religious leaders in Egypt what to do. They told him he could use the time of sunrise and sunset in the nearest country, so El Dakrouri is using New Zealand.
The fast is longer here, because of the higher latitude of New Zealand. In Egypt, he said, the time between sunrise and sunset is usually 12 to 15 hours, but here it is nearly 18.
“I try to sleep,” El Dakrouri said of how he spends his fasting time.
The galley staff at the station accommodate his unusual mealtimes, and help him avoid pork, a forbidden food for Muslims. They sometimes make a separate portion for him so it’s hot when he comes in to eat around 8 p.m.
Ramadan recently ended. Instead of the traditional celebration marking the end of the month, El Dakrouri did something a bit different.
“I try to make something fun for my feast,” he said. He headed to McMurdo for a couple of days to telephone his friends and family in Egypt.
He will return to Egypt at the beginning of next summer, to report back to the National Institute of Laser Science in Cairo, where he is a researcher, and to return to his teaching duties at Cairo University.
He feels some pressure now, though. Not only is his work new research, but he wants to become a better instructor as a result of his time here.
“I must take something higher to teach the students afterward,” El Dakrouri said. “A lot of students have a lot of ideas.”
He wants to encourage them to follow their dreams. He also hopes to make a good impression on the U.S. program and on his fellow researchers. He believes he is a representative of scientists from Egypt, Africa, and the Arab and Muslim worlds, who may one day work in Antarctica too.
“If you are the first person to so something, you want to do it very well,” El Dakrouri said. “I am a beginning. I hope a lot of people come after that.”
A SPARCLE in their eyes
Published in the Antarctic Sun
Scientists who study gases mostly confine them to flasks in laboratories. Not Stephen Warren and Von P. Walden, atmospheric researchers from the University of Washington in Seattle. They are studying the air out on the polar plateau.
Away from the sterile, controlled environments of indoor research facilities, Warren and Walden have created their own work site right next to the Clean Air Sector. The project is called SPARCLE, the South Pole Atmospheric Radiation and Cloud Lidar Experiment.
“We’re studying processes important for climate,” Warren said. In 1985, Warren began examining how sunlight reflecting off snow affects the energy budget of Antarctica. An significant reason for the extreme cold of Antarctica is that snow reflects 83 percent of the incoming solar energy. Warren also looked at the sizes and shapes of the snow crystals themselves to learn why snow reflects sunlight the way it does.
Walden studied the other half of the energy budget, measuring the amount of infrared energy emitted by the different gases in the air, as well as by clouds. He found that even the small amount of water vapor over the plateau was responsible for two-thirds of the natural greenhouse effect here, and carbon dioxide was responsible for most of the rest.
Now they are combining their efforts in a two-pronged attack on a tough problem.
“The most important greenhouse gas, worldwide, is water vapor,” Warren said. But nobody has accurately measured how much infrared energy it is capable of absorbing at low temperatures.
This information is vital for predictions of climate change not just in Antarctica but around the world.
And conditions on the ground at the South Pole, with temperatures dropping to minus 120 F, are similar to those at high altitude, in the upper troposphere, elsewhere in the world.
Learning more about the interactions between water vapor and infrared energy helps make climate-change models more accurate. While many causes contribute to climate change,
Warren said, they come back to one place.
“They either start with radiation or involve radiation,” he said.
The team, including graduate student Penny Rowe and research meteorologist Richard Brandt,
has devised two different ways to look at water vapor.
One is using the flat expanse of the polar plateau to provide a long path of uniform air. They have an instrument that reports how much infrared energy is absorbed by water vapor in the air. But it can be reconfigured to measure how much infrared energy is emitted by the atmosphere.
Water vapor’s absorption, Walden said, is weak in parts of the infrared spectrum. So to measure it accurately requires a lot of water vapor in the air. At high temperatures, it’s easy to get lots of water vapor in a small chamber in a laboratory. But such high-temperature measurements
may not be applicable to the cold upper troposphere. At low temperatures, the only way to get sufficient water vapor is with a long distance, more than half a mile, of air. Because the plateau is featureless, the air moving across it is usually fairly uniform in terms of wind speed and direction, humidity and temperature.
The other way the team is measuring the characteristics of water vapor is with a tethered balloon. They can send different instruments up with the balloon, to more than a mile high,
and photograph ice crystals and measure humidity and temperature. Most of the water vapor in the atmosphere is in the lowest mile of air.
The tethered balloon also allows the team to take sustained measurements at fixed altitudes, which is uncommon. Usually this type of research is done from freely rising balloons or from
airplanes, which move quickly through clouds and also may alter the cloud properties.
Their observations are compared with existing models of the atmosphere and its characteristics. In collaboration with other climate modelers, the team’s new data can be incorporated into improved concepts of the climate.
The information is also useful for interpreting data from satellites and other remote-sensing devices. The devices can record observations, but to interpret that information requires a
knowledge of the processes involved, including how gases absorb radiation.
But Warren and Walden can’t observe everything at once. To complete their descriptions of atmospheric conditions, they collaborate with NASA, NOAA and local weather observers.
This summer’s research is largely a testing phase. Much of the real work will happen next summer and over the following winter of 2001. Two members of the group will winter at the
South Pole to conduct the research, which uses existing tools in new ways.
One of the instruments was originally designed to measure pollutants coming out of factory smokestacks. Now it’s in use measuring water vapor in Antarctic air.
“We’re using new technology to increase our understanding of the Antarctic continent to make better predictions of climate for this region,” said Walden.
Scientists who study gases mostly confine them to flasks in laboratories. Not Stephen Warren and Von P. Walden, atmospheric researchers from the University of Washington in Seattle. They are studying the air out on the polar plateau.
Away from the sterile, controlled environments of indoor research facilities, Warren and Walden have created their own work site right next to the Clean Air Sector. The project is called SPARCLE, the South Pole Atmospheric Radiation and Cloud Lidar Experiment.
“We’re studying processes important for climate,” Warren said. In 1985, Warren began examining how sunlight reflecting off snow affects the energy budget of Antarctica. An significant reason for the extreme cold of Antarctica is that snow reflects 83 percent of the incoming solar energy. Warren also looked at the sizes and shapes of the snow crystals themselves to learn why snow reflects sunlight the way it does.
Walden studied the other half of the energy budget, measuring the amount of infrared energy emitted by the different gases in the air, as well as by clouds. He found that even the small amount of water vapor over the plateau was responsible for two-thirds of the natural greenhouse effect here, and carbon dioxide was responsible for most of the rest.
Now they are combining their efforts in a two-pronged attack on a tough problem.
“The most important greenhouse gas, worldwide, is water vapor,” Warren said. But nobody has accurately measured how much infrared energy it is capable of absorbing at low temperatures.
This information is vital for predictions of climate change not just in Antarctica but around the world.
And conditions on the ground at the South Pole, with temperatures dropping to minus 120 F, are similar to those at high altitude, in the upper troposphere, elsewhere in the world.
Learning more about the interactions between water vapor and infrared energy helps make climate-change models more accurate. While many causes contribute to climate change,
Warren said, they come back to one place.
“They either start with radiation or involve radiation,” he said.
The team, including graduate student Penny Rowe and research meteorologist Richard Brandt,
has devised two different ways to look at water vapor.
One is using the flat expanse of the polar plateau to provide a long path of uniform air. They have an instrument that reports how much infrared energy is absorbed by water vapor in the air. But it can be reconfigured to measure how much infrared energy is emitted by the atmosphere.
Water vapor’s absorption, Walden said, is weak in parts of the infrared spectrum. So to measure it accurately requires a lot of water vapor in the air. At high temperatures, it’s easy to get lots of water vapor in a small chamber in a laboratory. But such high-temperature measurements
may not be applicable to the cold upper troposphere. At low temperatures, the only way to get sufficient water vapor is with a long distance, more than half a mile, of air. Because the plateau is featureless, the air moving across it is usually fairly uniform in terms of wind speed and direction, humidity and temperature.
The other way the team is measuring the characteristics of water vapor is with a tethered balloon. They can send different instruments up with the balloon, to more than a mile high,
and photograph ice crystals and measure humidity and temperature. Most of the water vapor in the atmosphere is in the lowest mile of air.
The tethered balloon also allows the team to take sustained measurements at fixed altitudes, which is uncommon. Usually this type of research is done from freely rising balloons or from
airplanes, which move quickly through clouds and also may alter the cloud properties.
Their observations are compared with existing models of the atmosphere and its characteristics. In collaboration with other climate modelers, the team’s new data can be incorporated into improved concepts of the climate.
The information is also useful for interpreting data from satellites and other remote-sensing devices. The devices can record observations, but to interpret that information requires a
knowledge of the processes involved, including how gases absorb radiation.
But Warren and Walden can’t observe everything at once. To complete their descriptions of atmospheric conditions, they collaborate with NASA, NOAA and local weather observers.
This summer’s research is largely a testing phase. Much of the real work will happen next summer and over the following winter of 2001. Two members of the group will winter at the
South Pole to conduct the research, which uses existing tools in new ways.
One of the instruments was originally designed to measure pollutants coming out of factory smokestacks. Now it’s in use measuring water vapor in Antarctic air.
“We’re using new technology to increase our understanding of the Antarctic continent to make better predictions of climate for this region,” said Walden.
Sunday, January 9, 2000
Tropical trekkers reach South Pole
Published in the Antarctic Sun
The first Singaporean expedition to Antarctica reached the Pole New Year’s Eve, after 57 days of sledging. The team, none of whom had ever skied before, traveled nearly 700 miles from Horseshoe Valley just north of Patriot Hills.
“It’s an extra challenge for Singapore,” said team member David Lim. The small southeast Asian country is in the tropics. Its highest natural point is only 500 feet above sea level.
“We have a little extra gap to bridge,” Lim said.
Last year several members of the group climbed Mount Everest, which caused a national sensation in the tiny city-state.
The public interest and available sponsorship dollars convinced the team to attempt a ski and sledge journey from 80 degrees south to the South Pole.
The planning began shortly after they returned from Everest, in May 1998. “We rested for one or two months, and got restless again,” said team member Khoo Swee Chiow.
In July 1998, they began preparation. In May 1999, they trained with British polar adventurer Roger Mear in Greenland.
“We didn’t know how to sledge,” Lim said. “And we had zero skiing ability.”
From that dubious beginning in Greenland to a second training trip in New Zealand in July, they felt prepared, but Antarctica still offered a challenge.
The first trial was arriving on the continent. Weather kept them in Punta Arenas, Chile, for nine days beyond their intended departure date. During that time, they met some others involved in Antarctic expeditions this year: the British and Australian team whose leaky fuel ruined their chances of a continental traverse.
They finally began their journey from 80 degrees south on November 4. Antarctica was just introducing itself.
“Most of us here have not been to this kind of cold,” said Khoo, a software engineer with Singapore Airlines. The team endured cold reaching minus 67 F, and a 46 mph headwind.
At 87 degrees south, they hit bad weather that forced them to hunker down for two days, the longest delay of the trip.
“Eighty-seven to 88, that was like the South Pole putting up her last defense,” Khoo said.
On the plateau before reaching the Pole, they met the British-sponsored “Last Degree” team who were skiing from 89 degrees south to the Pole.
The Singaporean prime minister is their primary patron, encouraging their mission “to promote the spirit of adventure in Singaporean youth,” said expeditioner Ang Yan Choon.
They left the Pole in a private Twin Otter operated by Adventure Network International on January 3. But a number of items would remain in the ANI cache at the Pole.
“Anything that’s edible or usable we’ll leave here for others,” Choon said.
The team will travel back to Singapore via Chile and New York. Their next adventure destination is uncertain at the moment, though the team all smiled when they thought of a “next time.”
“The world is pretty big,” Lim said.
The first Singaporean expedition to Antarctica reached the Pole New Year’s Eve, after 57 days of sledging. The team, none of whom had ever skied before, traveled nearly 700 miles from Horseshoe Valley just north of Patriot Hills.
“It’s an extra challenge for Singapore,” said team member David Lim. The small southeast Asian country is in the tropics. Its highest natural point is only 500 feet above sea level.
“We have a little extra gap to bridge,” Lim said.
Last year several members of the group climbed Mount Everest, which caused a national sensation in the tiny city-state.
The public interest and available sponsorship dollars convinced the team to attempt a ski and sledge journey from 80 degrees south to the South Pole.
The planning began shortly after they returned from Everest, in May 1998. “We rested for one or two months, and got restless again,” said team member Khoo Swee Chiow.
In July 1998, they began preparation. In May 1999, they trained with British polar adventurer Roger Mear in Greenland.
“We didn’t know how to sledge,” Lim said. “And we had zero skiing ability.”
From that dubious beginning in Greenland to a second training trip in New Zealand in July, they felt prepared, but Antarctica still offered a challenge.
The first trial was arriving on the continent. Weather kept them in Punta Arenas, Chile, for nine days beyond their intended departure date. During that time, they met some others involved in Antarctic expeditions this year: the British and Australian team whose leaky fuel ruined their chances of a continental traverse.
They finally began their journey from 80 degrees south on November 4. Antarctica was just introducing itself.
“Most of us here have not been to this kind of cold,” said Khoo, a software engineer with Singapore Airlines. The team endured cold reaching minus 67 F, and a 46 mph headwind.
At 87 degrees south, they hit bad weather that forced them to hunker down for two days, the longest delay of the trip.
“Eighty-seven to 88, that was like the South Pole putting up her last defense,” Khoo said.
On the plateau before reaching the Pole, they met the British-sponsored “Last Degree” team who were skiing from 89 degrees south to the Pole.
The Singaporean prime minister is their primary patron, encouraging their mission “to promote the spirit of adventure in Singaporean youth,” said expeditioner Ang Yan Choon.
They left the Pole in a private Twin Otter operated by Adventure Network International on January 3. But a number of items would remain in the ANI cache at the Pole.
“Anything that’s edible or usable we’ll leave here for others,” Choon said.
The team will travel back to Singapore via Chile and New York. Their next adventure destination is uncertain at the moment, though the team all smiled when they thought of a “next time.”
“The world is pretty big,” Lim said.
The pull of the Pole
Published in the Antarctic Sun
At South Pole Station, in the middle of the polar plateau, people keep showing up. While most fly here on LC-130s, there are a growing number who can say they got here by land.
Just the other day, seven men in bright orange jackets appeared outside the station. They were Argentinians who had driven snowmobiles from Belgrano Station near the Weddell Sea, at the same latitude as McMurdo. It had taken them 38 days.
The previous day, nine skiers had arrived from the Weddell Sea coast. Among that group were the first British women to travel overland to the pole, the first married couple to do so and the first Australian to visit both poles.
A significant spot in an otherwise featureless landscape, the South Pole is an appealing goal for Antarctic adventurers traveling on the frozen plateau.
Mike Thornewill, of the multinational expedition, said he has been trying to get here for 30 years.
“I couldn’t get a plane so I had to walk,” he said. His wife Fiona, one of the first British women to get to the pole on skis, was equally pleased.
“It’s such a privilege to be here,” she said.
The expedition was a fundraiser for the Marie Curie Cancer Care charity. They have already raised $150,000. It’s part of their effort to involve large numbers of people in the endeavor, which saw them travel 730 miles in 61 days, each pulling a 200-pound sledge.
“If you’re going to take money from the community to do something, you should give something back,” Mike Thornewill said.
But the effort is also for the individuals on the team.
“We have a dream and an earnest desire to make our dream come true,” Thornewill said.
For the Argentinians it was different.
They were on a scientific traverse and intended to camp near the pole for a couple of days before returning to their station, said expedition doctor Nicolas Bernardi.
Other expeditions to arrive at the pole, or to declare it as a destination, included several groups hoping to celebrate New Year’s at the end of the Earth. Four Singaporeans and four British arrived on skis in time, while nine others flew in from Patriot Hills just to spend midnight at the pole.
The conditions continental traverses face today are very similar to those the early explorers endured. Clothing and shelter are of better materials, but hauling sledges across sastrugi isn’t much easier.
Food requirements are the same, if not higher, now. Safety margins are larger, requiring more supplies “just in case.”
Living conditions are still quite spare, the Thornewills agreed.
“I’d forgotten what a clean cup looked like,” Mike said.
Even in these tough conditions, though, it could be worse.
“It’s kinder here than in the Arctic,” said Grahame Murphy, the first Australian to visit both poles. He went to the North Pole in 1994, and would gladly trade the Arctic sea ice for sastrugi on the southern polar plateau.
The desire for primacy in arriving at the pole results in detailed descriptions involving nationality, gender, level of support, method of transportation and the route traveled. For example, Catharine Hartley and Fiona Thornewill were the first British women to arrive at the pole on skis from the coast.
When expeditions arrive at the pole, they are welcomed by station staff, who usually have had some warning of the arrival. They’re treated to hot drinks in the galley, and are often shown around the station’s science and support facilities.
It’s a welcome quite different from the one Scott saw, with a Norwegian flag flying atop an empty tent in the middle of the white desert.
At South Pole Station, in the middle of the polar plateau, people keep showing up. While most fly here on LC-130s, there are a growing number who can say they got here by land.
Just the other day, seven men in bright orange jackets appeared outside the station. They were Argentinians who had driven snowmobiles from Belgrano Station near the Weddell Sea, at the same latitude as McMurdo. It had taken them 38 days.
The previous day, nine skiers had arrived from the Weddell Sea coast. Among that group were the first British women to travel overland to the pole, the first married couple to do so and the first Australian to visit both poles.
A significant spot in an otherwise featureless landscape, the South Pole is an appealing goal for Antarctic adventurers traveling on the frozen plateau.
Mike Thornewill, of the multinational expedition, said he has been trying to get here for 30 years.
“I couldn’t get a plane so I had to walk,” he said. His wife Fiona, one of the first British women to get to the pole on skis, was equally pleased.
“It’s such a privilege to be here,” she said.
The expedition was a fundraiser for the Marie Curie Cancer Care charity. They have already raised $150,000. It’s part of their effort to involve large numbers of people in the endeavor, which saw them travel 730 miles in 61 days, each pulling a 200-pound sledge.
“If you’re going to take money from the community to do something, you should give something back,” Mike Thornewill said.
But the effort is also for the individuals on the team.
“We have a dream and an earnest desire to make our dream come true,” Thornewill said.
For the Argentinians it was different.
They were on a scientific traverse and intended to camp near the pole for a couple of days before returning to their station, said expedition doctor Nicolas Bernardi.
Other expeditions to arrive at the pole, or to declare it as a destination, included several groups hoping to celebrate New Year’s at the end of the Earth. Four Singaporeans and four British arrived on skis in time, while nine others flew in from Patriot Hills just to spend midnight at the pole.
The conditions continental traverses face today are very similar to those the early explorers endured. Clothing and shelter are of better materials, but hauling sledges across sastrugi isn’t much easier.
Food requirements are the same, if not higher, now. Safety margins are larger, requiring more supplies “just in case.”
Living conditions are still quite spare, the Thornewills agreed.
“I’d forgotten what a clean cup looked like,” Mike said.
Even in these tough conditions, though, it could be worse.
“It’s kinder here than in the Arctic,” said Grahame Murphy, the first Australian to visit both poles. He went to the North Pole in 1994, and would gladly trade the Arctic sea ice for sastrugi on the southern polar plateau.
The desire for primacy in arriving at the pole results in detailed descriptions involving nationality, gender, level of support, method of transportation and the route traveled. For example, Catharine Hartley and Fiona Thornewill were the first British women to arrive at the pole on skis from the coast.
When expeditions arrive at the pole, they are welcomed by station staff, who usually have had some warning of the arrival. They’re treated to hot drinks in the galley, and are often shown around the station’s science and support facilities.
It’s a welcome quite different from the one Scott saw, with a Norwegian flag flying atop an empty tent in the middle of the white desert.
Sunday, December 26, 1999
Running with the dogs
Published in the Antarctic Sun
Dogs. Roald Amundsen sped to the South Pole behind them. Robert Scott couldn’t get them to work. Shackleton’s men, unable to feed them, shot them.
Peter Cleary, now Scott Base’s operations manager, took care of Antarctic dog teams and worked with them for three years. One of those years, in the late 1970s, he was at Scott Base. For the other two, in the mid-1980s, he was with the British Antarctic Survey on the Antarctic Peninsula.
“My main job was field support,” Cleary said. In 10 summers on the Ice, this is his second season actually stationed at a base.
He remembers the dogs fondly. He was the handler for two teams of up to 12 dogs each in the summer of 1978-1979 and the winter of 1979. The dogs were big West Greenland huskies, bred for stamina rather than speed.
Though not used as extensively in the late 1980s as they had been in earlier years, Cleary said the dogs were involved in work on the sea ice and in crevasse areas.
The dogs were slower than vehicles, which gave them a safety edge. “Some of them became
aware of things like crevasses,” Cleary said. They would stop rather than go into a dangerous
place. Others, he said, would fall into any hole that happened to be in front of them.
The dogs were around mainly because they always had been. “They were a historical artifact,” Cleary said. “Psychologically, they were really good on the base.”
In winter, during the few days a month with constant moonlight, running the dogs was easy. In darkness, though, it was tough.
Just before Winfly, Cleary would take a team to Cape Royds, partly to get them into condition for the pulling season, but also to check out the sea ice conditions, which were sometimes treacherous.
“You can always pull a wet dog out, shake him a bit, and make him run around a while,” Cleary said.
Handling dogs was a challenge for Cleary, who had some experience with farm dogs in New Zealand, but considered his work on-the-job training.
After three years, he said, “I could consider myself a mildly competent dog handler,” but gave more credit to the dogs than to himself.
The dogs, he said, were very much individuals and had to be understood. Notes from previous years’ handlers were helpful, but experience was the real key.
It was a chance Robert Scott never gave himself. Dog handling, Cleary said, is a hard thing to learn.
Scott was versatile and tried dogs, ponies and motor vehicles. But he had particular problem with the dogs.
“They’re not pets and never were,” Cleary said. That was likely part of Scott’s problem. Scott was unable to think of the dogs as workers. Instead, he thought of them as companions on the journey.
“If he’d put as much effort into maintaining his dogs as he spent maintaining the ponies, he would have had a lot more success with the dogs,” Cleary said.
Cleary had a good measure of success, traveling up to 1,300 miles in a single season, over to White Island, up the Blue Glacier, and to Cape MacKay. But he stresses that those trips were low-key compared to sledging seasons in the heyday of dog teams, which saw multiple journeys of over 2,300 miles throughout the summer.
They always wanted to work, which often made for a bit of an exciting start to a trip.
“In the morning there’s always this insane first half mile,” Cleary said. But mostly they were
slower than vehicles, which wasn’t all bad. “Sometimes you need to slow down around here,” he said.
The dogs also pulled pranks, Cleary said. “Their favorite thing was to cock their leg on people’s legs and piss in people’s mukluks.”
But the dogs became a political issue. During the summer, they ate the food waste from McMurdo and Scott Base. But during the winter they ate seal. The meat was good for its high
fat content, but killing seals became unpopular.
In 1984 at a meeting in Madrid, the countries with Antarctic programs decided to phase out the use of dogs.
In 1986 New Zealand’s dogs left Scott Base for good. “I think at the time we didn’t really realize it was the end of an era,” Cleary said. “The whole business of their removal wasn’t just with the Scott Base dogs.”
The British, who had used their dogs very intensively through the early 1970s, didn’t take their dogs out until 1993.
When they left, Cleary said, “it was a sad day but it had a degree of inevitability. I regret they’re not here.”
He still misses one of his favorite times with the dogs, “listening to them in full throat on a moonlit night.”
Dogs. Roald Amundsen sped to the South Pole behind them. Robert Scott couldn’t get them to work. Shackleton’s men, unable to feed them, shot them.
Peter Cleary, now Scott Base’s operations manager, took care of Antarctic dog teams and worked with them for three years. One of those years, in the late 1970s, he was at Scott Base. For the other two, in the mid-1980s, he was with the British Antarctic Survey on the Antarctic Peninsula.
“My main job was field support,” Cleary said. In 10 summers on the Ice, this is his second season actually stationed at a base.
He remembers the dogs fondly. He was the handler for two teams of up to 12 dogs each in the summer of 1978-1979 and the winter of 1979. The dogs were big West Greenland huskies, bred for stamina rather than speed.
Though not used as extensively in the late 1980s as they had been in earlier years, Cleary said the dogs were involved in work on the sea ice and in crevasse areas.
The dogs were slower than vehicles, which gave them a safety edge. “Some of them became
aware of things like crevasses,” Cleary said. They would stop rather than go into a dangerous
place. Others, he said, would fall into any hole that happened to be in front of them.
The dogs were around mainly because they always had been. “They were a historical artifact,” Cleary said. “Psychologically, they were really good on the base.”
In winter, during the few days a month with constant moonlight, running the dogs was easy. In darkness, though, it was tough.
Just before Winfly, Cleary would take a team to Cape Royds, partly to get them into condition for the pulling season, but also to check out the sea ice conditions, which were sometimes treacherous.
“You can always pull a wet dog out, shake him a bit, and make him run around a while,” Cleary said.
Handling dogs was a challenge for Cleary, who had some experience with farm dogs in New Zealand, but considered his work on-the-job training.
After three years, he said, “I could consider myself a mildly competent dog handler,” but gave more credit to the dogs than to himself.
The dogs, he said, were very much individuals and had to be understood. Notes from previous years’ handlers were helpful, but experience was the real key.
It was a chance Robert Scott never gave himself. Dog handling, Cleary said, is a hard thing to learn.
Scott was versatile and tried dogs, ponies and motor vehicles. But he had particular problem with the dogs.
“They’re not pets and never were,” Cleary said. That was likely part of Scott’s problem. Scott was unable to think of the dogs as workers. Instead, he thought of them as companions on the journey.
“If he’d put as much effort into maintaining his dogs as he spent maintaining the ponies, he would have had a lot more success with the dogs,” Cleary said.
Cleary had a good measure of success, traveling up to 1,300 miles in a single season, over to White Island, up the Blue Glacier, and to Cape MacKay. But he stresses that those trips were low-key compared to sledging seasons in the heyday of dog teams, which saw multiple journeys of over 2,300 miles throughout the summer.
They always wanted to work, which often made for a bit of an exciting start to a trip.
“In the morning there’s always this insane first half mile,” Cleary said. But mostly they were
slower than vehicles, which wasn’t all bad. “Sometimes you need to slow down around here,” he said.
The dogs also pulled pranks, Cleary said. “Their favorite thing was to cock their leg on people’s legs and piss in people’s mukluks.”
But the dogs became a political issue. During the summer, they ate the food waste from McMurdo and Scott Base. But during the winter they ate seal. The meat was good for its high
fat content, but killing seals became unpopular.
In 1984 at a meeting in Madrid, the countries with Antarctic programs decided to phase out the use of dogs.
In 1986 New Zealand’s dogs left Scott Base for good. “I think at the time we didn’t really realize it was the end of an era,” Cleary said. “The whole business of their removal wasn’t just with the Scott Base dogs.”
The British, who had used their dogs very intensively through the early 1970s, didn’t take their dogs out until 1993.
When they left, Cleary said, “it was a sad day but it had a degree of inevitability. I regret they’re not here.”
He still misses one of his favorite times with the dogs, “listening to them in full throat on a moonlit night.”
Heating with waste, wasting less heat
Published in the Antarctic Sun
Facilities engineers are building two kinds of energy-saving networks around McMurdo Station. One network, of pipes, permits them to heat buildings at little cost. The other network, of wires, lets them centralize monitoring and control of heating systems in buildings around town.
Until recently, the power plant’s engines were cooled by giant radiators sitting behind the plant. The energy, called “waste heat,” escaped into the air. Last week, that changed.
Rather than transferring excess energy to the outside atmosphere, waste heat is now warming three McMurdo buildings. Facilities engineer Jim McAdam puts it another way: “We’ll do all the cooling of the engines with the town,” he said.
This is not the first time waste heat from the power-generation process will have been put to good use around McMurdo. When flash evaporators were used to purify seawater into drinking
water, excess heat from the power plant was part of that process. As well, the water plant has been heated with waste heat since Winfly 1998.
The new system came online in Crary and buildings 155 and 165 on Monday night. Eventually, the project will include the science cargo building, the firehouse, the hospital and the dorms.
“It went real well,” McAdam said of the changeover to waste heat.
It works like this: The water cooling the power plant’s engines will radiate heat to a loop containing a 60-percent glycol, 40-percent water solution. That solution will be pumped to buildings heated with the waste-heat system.
The buildings’ existing heating will remain in place as backup, and will automatically kick in if the primary system has problems. There is also a large boiler at the beginning of the waste-heat
loop that can substitute the engines’ waste-heat supply.
With waste heat as the main heat source for major buildings around town, boiler emissions will drop by 25 percent and over 450,000 gallons of fuel will be saved each year.
“It’s a win-win deal,” McAdam said.
The use of waste heat effectively doubles the efficiency of the engines. At present, only 31 percent of the energy put into the machines as fuel emerges as electricity.
The remaining 69 percent is emitted in exhaust and radiation from the engine itself (39 percent), and the heat removed by internal engine coolant (30 percent). It is the energy removed by internal coolant that will now be used to heat buildings.
The plan is also to replace the existing power plant with newer, more efficient generators. At that point, heat will also be collected from the machines’ exhaust and added to the waste-heat
loop.
The layout of McMurdo is ideal for this type of project, McAdam said, because the power is generated close to the community it serves. Thus, it is relatively easy to move the heat around
town.
The added efficiency of the waste-heat project is enhanced by other heating-system work going on around station.
As the engineers install waste-heat equipment in buildings, they are also checking for sources of potential heat loss.
Changes to Crary’s heat flow have cut the building’s heating requirements by half.
“We’re identifying key heat-wasting points,” McAdam said.
Another part of the project, which is also being piloted in Crary, is a remote system by which technicians in the power plant can monitor heating equipment around the station from a computer terminal.
Instead of having to go to each building to check equipment and temperatures, automated sensors throughout the new heating system will make those checks continuously.
One benefit of the new monitoring system will be a better understanding of how heating problems happen.
Rather than solving individual problems called in by building occupants, a technician will be able to look at a whole building at once to see where the real problem is. For example, if a building
is too hot because it’s not venting air properly, a repair can be made to the vent rather than to the heat supply.
The monitoring system also increases the efficiency of the waste-heat supply system. Along with variable-speed pumps, electronic monitoring permits fast response to changes in demands for heat around town.
“You just pump exactly what you need,” McAdam said. “It’s a little bit of new technology down here, but anywhere else it’s not.”
The project is ahead of schedule. Crary was the only building planned to come online this year, but buildings 155 and 165 are also being added now, rather than next year.
“We’ll have the whole project paid for before we finish,” McAdam said. It’s a seven-year plan that will pay for itself in less than three years.
“We can put in as much energy as we need and stop wasting so much of it,” McAdam said. McAdam is very proud of the team working with him on all the changes to the heating system around McMurdo.
“Those guys have put a lot of heart into this,” McAdam said of the workers who spent the winter on the project.
The bottom line, he said, is most important for the entire team. “When I leave we’ll be using less energy than when I arrived.”
Facilities engineers are building two kinds of energy-saving networks around McMurdo Station. One network, of pipes, permits them to heat buildings at little cost. The other network, of wires, lets them centralize monitoring and control of heating systems in buildings around town.
Until recently, the power plant’s engines were cooled by giant radiators sitting behind the plant. The energy, called “waste heat,” escaped into the air. Last week, that changed.
Rather than transferring excess energy to the outside atmosphere, waste heat is now warming three McMurdo buildings. Facilities engineer Jim McAdam puts it another way: “We’ll do all the cooling of the engines with the town,” he said.
This is not the first time waste heat from the power-generation process will have been put to good use around McMurdo. When flash evaporators were used to purify seawater into drinking
water, excess heat from the power plant was part of that process. As well, the water plant has been heated with waste heat since Winfly 1998.
The new system came online in Crary and buildings 155 and 165 on Monday night. Eventually, the project will include the science cargo building, the firehouse, the hospital and the dorms.
“It went real well,” McAdam said of the changeover to waste heat.
It works like this: The water cooling the power plant’s engines will radiate heat to a loop containing a 60-percent glycol, 40-percent water solution. That solution will be pumped to buildings heated with the waste-heat system.
The buildings’ existing heating will remain in place as backup, and will automatically kick in if the primary system has problems. There is also a large boiler at the beginning of the waste-heat
loop that can substitute the engines’ waste-heat supply.
With waste heat as the main heat source for major buildings around town, boiler emissions will drop by 25 percent and over 450,000 gallons of fuel will be saved each year.
“It’s a win-win deal,” McAdam said.
The use of waste heat effectively doubles the efficiency of the engines. At present, only 31 percent of the energy put into the machines as fuel emerges as electricity.
The remaining 69 percent is emitted in exhaust and radiation from the engine itself (39 percent), and the heat removed by internal engine coolant (30 percent). It is the energy removed by internal coolant that will now be used to heat buildings.
The plan is also to replace the existing power plant with newer, more efficient generators. At that point, heat will also be collected from the machines’ exhaust and added to the waste-heat
loop.
The layout of McMurdo is ideal for this type of project, McAdam said, because the power is generated close to the community it serves. Thus, it is relatively easy to move the heat around
town.
The added efficiency of the waste-heat project is enhanced by other heating-system work going on around station.
As the engineers install waste-heat equipment in buildings, they are also checking for sources of potential heat loss.
Changes to Crary’s heat flow have cut the building’s heating requirements by half.
“We’re identifying key heat-wasting points,” McAdam said.
Another part of the project, which is also being piloted in Crary, is a remote system by which technicians in the power plant can monitor heating equipment around the station from a computer terminal.
Instead of having to go to each building to check equipment and temperatures, automated sensors throughout the new heating system will make those checks continuously.
One benefit of the new monitoring system will be a better understanding of how heating problems happen.
Rather than solving individual problems called in by building occupants, a technician will be able to look at a whole building at once to see where the real problem is. For example, if a building
is too hot because it’s not venting air properly, a repair can be made to the vent rather than to the heat supply.
The monitoring system also increases the efficiency of the waste-heat supply system. Along with variable-speed pumps, electronic monitoring permits fast response to changes in demands for heat around town.
“You just pump exactly what you need,” McAdam said. “It’s a little bit of new technology down here, but anywhere else it’s not.”
The project is ahead of schedule. Crary was the only building planned to come online this year, but buildings 155 and 165 are also being added now, rather than next year.
“We’ll have the whole project paid for before we finish,” McAdam said. It’s a seven-year plan that will pay for itself in less than three years.
“We can put in as much energy as we need and stop wasting so much of it,” McAdam said. McAdam is very proud of the team working with him on all the changes to the heating system around McMurdo.
“Those guys have put a lot of heart into this,” McAdam said of the workers who spent the winter on the project.
The bottom line, he said, is most important for the entire team. “When I leave we’ll be using less energy than when I arrived.”
High-flying science
Published in the Antarctic Sun
In the next few days, a giant floating bubble will appear over Williams Field and climb high into the heavens. It will circle Antarctica for about two weeks, and return to Earth nearby.
The bubble is a helium-filled balloon 100 feet tall. It will carry a scientific payload almost 24 miles into the sky, from which altitude it will still be visible to the unaided eye.
The Flare Genesis Experiment, as the project is called, is looking at the origin of solar flares to determine what causes them. What is known at present is that flares emerge from sunspots in which the magnetic field changes, becomes unstable and erupts in a flare.
“We want to know how flares are born,” said David Rust of Johns Hopkins University’s Applied Physics Laboratory, the lead scientist on the project.
Using the 32-inch solar telescope, the second-largest in the world, Rust and his team can look at sunspots very closely.
By measuring the polarization and shifting wavelength of the light emitted from a specific sunspot, Rust and his team can calculate the magnetic field acting on the area.
He and others have spent 25 years trying to put together a space mission to do this work. It would cost $800 million, though it would yield years of observing opportunities from a space vehicle.
The balloon launch, on the other hand, costs $16 million for about two weeks of observing the sun. The last time the telescope went aloft, in 1997, it stayed up for 18 days.
The scientists are supported by the NASA-funded National Scientific Balloon Facility, based in Palestine, Texas. The facility takes care of elements of the project apart from the telescope and its housing.
“We provide the vehicle, we provide the telemetry system,” said Steven Peterzen, the NSBF’s on-site coordinator. The facility’s staff also rigs the balloon, performs the launch, monitors the flight, and pops the balloon to end the flight. But even then, the job isn’t done. The payload’s valuable instrumentation must be recovered.
“We do this all over the world,” Peterzen said. Antarctica is a good place to send up balloons because of the emptiness of the space, but more importantly because of the regular wind pattern
which stabilizes over the continent in midsummer. The balloon, when launched from Williams Field, will circle the continent and most likely return nearby, to be brought down on the Ross Ice Shelf for easy recovery.
During the first 20 hours of the balloon’s flight, the scientists can communicate extensively with the payload because it is within line-of-sight. They run tests to be sure everything is working
properly, and collect some early data. All data is stored on board for the duration of the flight.
After those first hours, though, the balloon and its payload are only reachable for a few minutes every couple of hours. If something goes wrong, the scientists can load all of their equipment into
the back of an LC-130 and fly closer to the payload, to regain line-of-sight communications.
The NSBF team at Williams Field has enough equipment to have the two balloons in the air at once, though that has never happened before in Antarctica.
They can only have one at a time in line-of-sight, though, meaning a second launch can follow the first only after a day or two.
Later this season a similar launch will lift a project run by a research team led by scientists at the University of California-Berkeley and the University of Washington, who didn’t even expect
to launch their project in Antarctica this season.
They had hoped to launch in Alaska last June, but were unable to. Then, in August, they got a phone call: Another group wasn’t ready to come to Antarctica.
They scrambled to make the trip, helped by the fact that they’d never really unpacked in June.
“It was all still in boxes,” said Robyn Millan, a graduate student at UC Berkeley’s Space
Sciences Laboratory.
The instruments will show them more about aurora, the ghostly lights in the sky at high latitudes. Aurora are caused by electrons from space entering the Earth’s atmosphere. They release energy in the electrically-charged areas of the upper atmosphere, emitting visible light and X-rays.
The balloon’s altitude allows X-rays to be observed before they are absorbed by the atmosphere. The balloon also allows a relatively heavy payload to be launched, as compared with satellites, where weight is at a premium.
Further, while a satellite moves very quickly through a large range of areas, a balloon stays relatively stationary.
This permits the researchers to determine whether what they observe is related to the location of its observation or the time of the event.
Millan emphasized the academic value of a balloon-based project, which has a slower timetable than a satellite mission. The extra time lets students take a more active role in the work. They build the equipment, receive the results and analyze the data within the time frame of an advanced degree program.
Also on the X-ray payload is what is called a “piggyback” experiment, using space and weight within the allowed limits but unused by the primary research.
NASA is testing shielding materials for space vehicles. Some payloads have been “fried” by the solar energy, which can be absorbed into the payload vehicle and cause overheating of components.
In the next few days, a giant floating bubble will appear over Williams Field and climb high into the heavens. It will circle Antarctica for about two weeks, and return to Earth nearby.
The bubble is a helium-filled balloon 100 feet tall. It will carry a scientific payload almost 24 miles into the sky, from which altitude it will still be visible to the unaided eye.
The Flare Genesis Experiment, as the project is called, is looking at the origin of solar flares to determine what causes them. What is known at present is that flares emerge from sunspots in which the magnetic field changes, becomes unstable and erupts in a flare.
“We want to know how flares are born,” said David Rust of Johns Hopkins University’s Applied Physics Laboratory, the lead scientist on the project.
Using the 32-inch solar telescope, the second-largest in the world, Rust and his team can look at sunspots very closely.
By measuring the polarization and shifting wavelength of the light emitted from a specific sunspot, Rust and his team can calculate the magnetic field acting on the area.
He and others have spent 25 years trying to put together a space mission to do this work. It would cost $800 million, though it would yield years of observing opportunities from a space vehicle.
The balloon launch, on the other hand, costs $16 million for about two weeks of observing the sun. The last time the telescope went aloft, in 1997, it stayed up for 18 days.
The scientists are supported by the NASA-funded National Scientific Balloon Facility, based in Palestine, Texas. The facility takes care of elements of the project apart from the telescope and its housing.
“We provide the vehicle, we provide the telemetry system,” said Steven Peterzen, the NSBF’s on-site coordinator. The facility’s staff also rigs the balloon, performs the launch, monitors the flight, and pops the balloon to end the flight. But even then, the job isn’t done. The payload’s valuable instrumentation must be recovered.
“We do this all over the world,” Peterzen said. Antarctica is a good place to send up balloons because of the emptiness of the space, but more importantly because of the regular wind pattern
which stabilizes over the continent in midsummer. The balloon, when launched from Williams Field, will circle the continent and most likely return nearby, to be brought down on the Ross Ice Shelf for easy recovery.
During the first 20 hours of the balloon’s flight, the scientists can communicate extensively with the payload because it is within line-of-sight. They run tests to be sure everything is working
properly, and collect some early data. All data is stored on board for the duration of the flight.
After those first hours, though, the balloon and its payload are only reachable for a few minutes every couple of hours. If something goes wrong, the scientists can load all of their equipment into
the back of an LC-130 and fly closer to the payload, to regain line-of-sight communications.
The NSBF team at Williams Field has enough equipment to have the two balloons in the air at once, though that has never happened before in Antarctica.
They can only have one at a time in line-of-sight, though, meaning a second launch can follow the first only after a day or two.
Later this season a similar launch will lift a project run by a research team led by scientists at the University of California-Berkeley and the University of Washington, who didn’t even expect
to launch their project in Antarctica this season.
They had hoped to launch in Alaska last June, but were unable to. Then, in August, they got a phone call: Another group wasn’t ready to come to Antarctica.
They scrambled to make the trip, helped by the fact that they’d never really unpacked in June.
“It was all still in boxes,” said Robyn Millan, a graduate student at UC Berkeley’s Space
Sciences Laboratory.
The instruments will show them more about aurora, the ghostly lights in the sky at high latitudes. Aurora are caused by electrons from space entering the Earth’s atmosphere. They release energy in the electrically-charged areas of the upper atmosphere, emitting visible light and X-rays.
The balloon’s altitude allows X-rays to be observed before they are absorbed by the atmosphere. The balloon also allows a relatively heavy payload to be launched, as compared with satellites, where weight is at a premium.
Further, while a satellite moves very quickly through a large range of areas, a balloon stays relatively stationary.
This permits the researchers to determine whether what they observe is related to the location of its observation or the time of the event.
Millan emphasized the academic value of a balloon-based project, which has a slower timetable than a satellite mission. The extra time lets students take a more active role in the work. They build the equipment, receive the results and analyze the data within the time frame of an advanced degree program.
Also on the X-ray payload is what is called a “piggyback” experiment, using space and weight within the allowed limits but unused by the primary research.
NASA is testing shielding materials for space vehicles. Some payloads have been “fried” by the solar energy, which can be absorbed into the payload vehicle and cause overheating of components.
Sunday, December 12, 1999
Out on a wire: Electronics techs keep McMurdo grounded
Published in the Antarctic Sun
Airplanes are flying and weather reports are coming in. Making it all possible are a small group who have their feet firmly planted on the ground.
Behind the scenes of the weather and air-traffic-control operations in Antarctica is an unsung team of electronics technicians who keep all the equipment running properly.
They’re part of the Aviation Technical Services contingent in McMurdo Station. Led by Mike Rugg, the team has two major elements.
Out at the airfield, there are the “Ice Elecs,” who keep the radios and navigational instruments working for the proper operation of the airport. They also maintain the weather equipment that records conditions at the runway, which often differ greatly from the situation in town.
And in MacTown, there are the “Mac Elecs,” who work with the air-traffic-control and weather instrumentation here and across the Ross Ice Shelf.
“It’s probably the best job on the continent,” said Jon Shields, the supervisor of the team in town.
They travel to Williams Field and automated weather system sites, he said, to install and maintain equipment. They also have some flexibility about where they work. Devices need to be
checked in a number of nearby locations. Shields likes being able to choose where he’ll stop by next.
Like a lot of material in Antarctica, the equipment isn’t necessarily all that modern, but it’s functional and durable, which is more important.
A few years ago, one team’s members invented and built an instrument for the air traffic control group. There’s no book for it, and no spare parts. But it’s still working.
Even for things which do have manuals, the parts occasionally aren’t handy. Technicians sometimes have to look at the spare bits and pieces they have lying around and make repairs with them.
In addition to repairs, the electronics technicians have recently been installing automated weather stations around the Ross Ice Shelf to help meteorologists measure and predict weather at McMurdo and the airfield.
They put in 10 stations last week after waiting two weeks for the weather to clear enough to fly. One of them took seven hours to put in, drilling and chipping through ice, but most of them take
between 60 and 90 minutes, since they’re installed in snow.
In preparing to move the airstrip from the sea ice to Williams Field, the runway technicians have been setting up and testing the navigational aids pilots need to land and take off.
“Things have been going pretty well,” said Larry Lainey, the team leader at the runway.
Lainey is happy that they now have two control towers and two navigational beacons. It means they’ve had a spare of each this season, and will have a spare when the move to Williams is complete.
But the crucial difference, Lainey said, is that they can have both runways fully functional at the same time when the move is taking place. In previous years, they’ve had to take down the control equipment at the sea ice runway, move it to Williams, and set everything up again.
Now they can set things up at Williams Field ahead of time and be ready when the move happens.
Weather is a factor in this, too. While the buildings are being dragged to their new location, they have no heat. This can cause problems trying to use the equipment right away in the new site.
“Electronic equipment works a whole lot better when it’s had a chance to warm up and get to a stable temperature,” Lainey said.
The electronics technicians have an unusual job, in that if they do their work properly, nobody knows they work; all the instruments just run well. But when things go wrong, they’re the ones in demand. Usually things work well, but it’s rarely just one piece of gear which goes down at a time.
“Everything breaks at once,” Shields said. But then, usually, it gets fixed quickly and the technicians can return to maintenance, upgrades and new installations.
Airplanes are flying and weather reports are coming in. Making it all possible are a small group who have their feet firmly planted on the ground.
Behind the scenes of the weather and air-traffic-control operations in Antarctica is an unsung team of electronics technicians who keep all the equipment running properly.
They’re part of the Aviation Technical Services contingent in McMurdo Station. Led by Mike Rugg, the team has two major elements.
Out at the airfield, there are the “Ice Elecs,” who keep the radios and navigational instruments working for the proper operation of the airport. They also maintain the weather equipment that records conditions at the runway, which often differ greatly from the situation in town.
And in MacTown, there are the “Mac Elecs,” who work with the air-traffic-control and weather instrumentation here and across the Ross Ice Shelf.
“It’s probably the best job on the continent,” said Jon Shields, the supervisor of the team in town.
They travel to Williams Field and automated weather system sites, he said, to install and maintain equipment. They also have some flexibility about where they work. Devices need to be
checked in a number of nearby locations. Shields likes being able to choose where he’ll stop by next.
Like a lot of material in Antarctica, the equipment isn’t necessarily all that modern, but it’s functional and durable, which is more important.
A few years ago, one team’s members invented and built an instrument for the air traffic control group. There’s no book for it, and no spare parts. But it’s still working.
Even for things which do have manuals, the parts occasionally aren’t handy. Technicians sometimes have to look at the spare bits and pieces they have lying around and make repairs with them.
In addition to repairs, the electronics technicians have recently been installing automated weather stations around the Ross Ice Shelf to help meteorologists measure and predict weather at McMurdo and the airfield.
They put in 10 stations last week after waiting two weeks for the weather to clear enough to fly. One of them took seven hours to put in, drilling and chipping through ice, but most of them take
between 60 and 90 minutes, since they’re installed in snow.
In preparing to move the airstrip from the sea ice to Williams Field, the runway technicians have been setting up and testing the navigational aids pilots need to land and take off.
“Things have been going pretty well,” said Larry Lainey, the team leader at the runway.
Lainey is happy that they now have two control towers and two navigational beacons. It means they’ve had a spare of each this season, and will have a spare when the move to Williams is complete.
But the crucial difference, Lainey said, is that they can have both runways fully functional at the same time when the move is taking place. In previous years, they’ve had to take down the control equipment at the sea ice runway, move it to Williams, and set everything up again.
Now they can set things up at Williams Field ahead of time and be ready when the move happens.
Weather is a factor in this, too. While the buildings are being dragged to their new location, they have no heat. This can cause problems trying to use the equipment right away in the new site.
“Electronic equipment works a whole lot better when it’s had a chance to warm up and get to a stable temperature,” Lainey said.
The electronics technicians have an unusual job, in that if they do their work properly, nobody knows they work; all the instruments just run well. But when things go wrong, they’re the ones in demand. Usually things work well, but it’s rarely just one piece of gear which goes down at a time.
“Everything breaks at once,” Shields said. But then, usually, it gets fixed quickly and the technicians can return to maintenance, upgrades and new installations.
Sunday, December 5, 1999
Mac Center, nerve center
Published in the Antarctic Sun
Attention aircraft over Antarctica: this is where to report. Passengers and crews on U.S. planes and helicopters anywhere on the Ice rely on Mac Center for safety and information.
When things are going well at McMurdo Station, Mac Center is hopping. Helicopters and fixed-wing aircraft over much of the Antarctic continent are controlled from a small room in Building 165.
When things are going badly, the search-and-rescue team gathers here, as does the mass-casualty response team.
But most of the time, work at Mac Center is about air traffic control. Three thousand square miles of area, from sea level up tens of thousands of feet, are kept in order at Mac Center. And without radar, the controllers have to keep a mental picture of this huge region in their brains.
There are large areas of Antarctica which don’t have air traffic control, but the people in Mac Center have to keep tabs on those areas as well, since many of the planes crossing the continent fly through its area of control somewhere on the flight path.
Flights from Africa to Australia and New Zealand routinely cross Antarctica on great circle
routes; Qantas, Australia’s airline, offers sightseeing flights over Wilkes Land which sometimes
brush the edge of Mac Center’s responsibility range.
Juggling radios, telephones, and pencils, the people who work in Mac Center track everything, in their heads and on paper. There are route-checkpoint forms, radio-contact forms and weather updates which shuffle past the control desk.
“You have to do all this for each plane,” said air traffic control manager Dave Ferguson, gesturing at a set of papers including a long form with spaces for weather conditions, time, and flight direction, among other data.
It’s not self-contained. Telephone calls have to be made to Auckland when planes fly across 60 degrees south latitude, the northern boundary of Mac Center’s responsibility area. Pilots and controllers depend on reports from Mac Weather, the field camps and aircraft in the air for flying condition information.
Tapes are rolling the whole time, too. They’re used for quality control and for training, as well as providing backup in the event of an emergency, so investigators can try to piece together what happened.
Even when most of the planes are on the ground or out of Mac Center’s airspace and things are a bit slow, it is not the time to slack off. Someone might radio in any minute, needing information or help. Mac Center stands by.
Attention aircraft over Antarctica: this is where to report. Passengers and crews on U.S. planes and helicopters anywhere on the Ice rely on Mac Center for safety and information.
When things are going well at McMurdo Station, Mac Center is hopping. Helicopters and fixed-wing aircraft over much of the Antarctic continent are controlled from a small room in Building 165.
When things are going badly, the search-and-rescue team gathers here, as does the mass-casualty response team.
But most of the time, work at Mac Center is about air traffic control. Three thousand square miles of area, from sea level up tens of thousands of feet, are kept in order at Mac Center. And without radar, the controllers have to keep a mental picture of this huge region in their brains.
There are large areas of Antarctica which don’t have air traffic control, but the people in Mac Center have to keep tabs on those areas as well, since many of the planes crossing the continent fly through its area of control somewhere on the flight path.
Flights from Africa to Australia and New Zealand routinely cross Antarctica on great circle
routes; Qantas, Australia’s airline, offers sightseeing flights over Wilkes Land which sometimes
brush the edge of Mac Center’s responsibility range.
Juggling radios, telephones, and pencils, the people who work in Mac Center track everything, in their heads and on paper. There are route-checkpoint forms, radio-contact forms and weather updates which shuffle past the control desk.
“You have to do all this for each plane,” said air traffic control manager Dave Ferguson, gesturing at a set of papers including a long form with spaces for weather conditions, time, and flight direction, among other data.
It’s not self-contained. Telephone calls have to be made to Auckland when planes fly across 60 degrees south latitude, the northern boundary of Mac Center’s responsibility area. Pilots and controllers depend on reports from Mac Weather, the field camps and aircraft in the air for flying condition information.
Tapes are rolling the whole time, too. They’re used for quality control and for training, as well as providing backup in the event of an emergency, so investigators can try to piece together what happened.
Even when most of the planes are on the ground or out of Mac Center’s airspace and things are a bit slow, it is not the time to slack off. Someone might radio in any minute, needing information or help. Mac Center stands by.
Cold Hard Facts
Published in the Antarctic Sun
Does the water in the sink, toilet or tub spin down the drain in opposite directions in the Northern and Southern Hemispheres? If so, why?
You probably learned about the Coriolis Effect in high school or college science classes. This effect, caused by the rotation of the Earth, does mean that weather patterns and ocean currents spin counterclockwise in the Northern Hemisphere and clockwise in the Southern Hemisphere.
But this effect is fairly small, and does not make much impact on such small amounts of water as those in a sink or toilet. Amounts of water along the lines of a swimming pool, however, do tend to exhibit the results of the Coriolis Effect, but only when they are drained relatively slowly and
when the water is very still prior to draining.
In reality, sinks and toilets drain in either direction in both hemispheres, depending largely on the designs of the basin and direction of flow of the water toward the drain.
What’s the coldest temperature recorded in Antarctica? The hottest? The highest wind speed?
Here are those statistics according to the website glacier.rice.edu:
Coldest: -129 F at Vostok on the polar plateau, on July 21, 1983. This is also the world’s low-temperature record.
Warmest: 59 F at Vanda Station, Scott Coast, on January 5, 1974.
Convergent katabatic winds flowing from the East Antarctic Ice Sheet make the Cape Denison-
Commonwealth Bay region of Adelie Land the windiest spot on Earth. The mean annual wind speed is 50 miles per hour and maximum measured wind velocities exceed almost 200 mph.
Does the water in the sink, toilet or tub spin down the drain in opposite directions in the Northern and Southern Hemispheres? If so, why?
You probably learned about the Coriolis Effect in high school or college science classes. This effect, caused by the rotation of the Earth, does mean that weather patterns and ocean currents spin counterclockwise in the Northern Hemisphere and clockwise in the Southern Hemisphere.
But this effect is fairly small, and does not make much impact on such small amounts of water as those in a sink or toilet. Amounts of water along the lines of a swimming pool, however, do tend to exhibit the results of the Coriolis Effect, but only when they are drained relatively slowly and
when the water is very still prior to draining.
In reality, sinks and toilets drain in either direction in both hemispheres, depending largely on the designs of the basin and direction of flow of the water toward the drain.
What’s the coldest temperature recorded in Antarctica? The hottest? The highest wind speed?
Here are those statistics according to the website glacier.rice.edu:
Coldest: -129 F at Vostok on the polar plateau, on July 21, 1983. This is also the world’s low-temperature record.
Warmest: 59 F at Vanda Station, Scott Coast, on January 5, 1974.
Convergent katabatic winds flowing from the East Antarctic Ice Sheet make the Cape Denison-
Commonwealth Bay region of Adelie Land the windiest spot on Earth. The mean annual wind speed is 50 miles per hour and maximum measured wind velocities exceed almost 200 mph.
Y2K: Is Antarctica ready?
Published in the Antarctic Sun
A thousand years ago, some Europeans feared the world would end with the first millennium. Now, at the close of this millennium, concern has spread to all levels of societies around the world. Some people say the end is near.
Others seem less alarmed but forewarn of gas, cash and other shortages as people hoard supplies they fear will become unavailable.
In Antarctica, and in our support structure back in the U.S., there is relative calm. While it’s likely that there will be problems in some areas of the world where technology lags, the U.S. Antarctic Program has spent over a million dollars since 1997 to ensure that the remote, resource-limited stations in Antarctica will not have problems.
“Basically anything that plugs in or has a battery backup was assessed in some way,” said Beth Bradley, ASA’s Year 2000 project manager.
While many people are concerned about computers, Bradley said, they are not the primary concern with the Antarctic program.
The problem is caused by confusion in pieces of electronics which have internal clocks. If they fail to properly recognize January 1 as the year 2000 and not 1900, problems could arise. In addition, the fact that next year is a leap year compounds the issue.
With power plants, a TV and radio station, medical equipment, and science equipment, as well as the research vessels and the ubiquitous GPS units, Antarctica is a very technology-dependent place.
“We have more than most companies,” Bradley said.
It is perhaps a blessing, then, that some of the equipment in use is so old. Korean War-vintage radios, for example, have no internal clock, and thus aren’t expected to have any problems, Bradley said.
One problem area Bradley didn’t anticipate was the monitoring system on the heat traces, which warm the outdoor utility pipes at McMurdo and the Pole. If it hadn’t been fixed, the monitoring computer would have failed, potentially freezing all of the pipes at both stations.
It’s not just equipment in Antarctica which was scrutinized. Also examined were the resources of organizations with which ASA and NSF work.
The Air National Guard, Aviation Technical Services, the U.S. Coast Guard, vendors and suppliers of equipment, and subcontractors, as well as the New Zealand and Chilean governments, were all checked for potential problems.
“If anyone thinks of anyone who touches our system in any way I’ll call them and talk to them,” Bradley said.
The computer systems have also been thoroughly checked. Some equipment has been replaced, according to McMurdo computer supervisor Scott Ferguson. Some software has been upgraded or replaced as well, Ferguson said.
Protecting network operations is most important, and involves the checking of all computers that arrive at McMurdo.
“Before it gets attached to the network we test it,” Ferguson said.
E-mail and telephone connections are made via satellite link directly with stations in the United States. Ferguson does not anticipate any problems with those connections. E-mail from Christchurch takes a long route through a number of connections on the ground and in space, but Ferguson is confident those connections will remain intact.
Ferguson also noted that there are multiple methods of communication available. If telephones, for example, do not function properly, radio and e-mail connections will still be possible.
Across the board, Bradley said, equipment has been upgraded or replaced. The project has also required a careful inventory of all items in use throughout the program, which was never fully done before.
“It’s really forced us to update and take a closer look at what we have,” Bradley said.
Now the project is in its final testing phase, verifying readiness of all equipment for the new year
changeover.
“We continue to test and retest,” Bradley said.
Fifty people will work overnight on New Year’s Eve to monitor equipment and make sure everything goes smoothly.
A team in Denver will be awake early to support the Christchurch offices, Pole and McMurdo. The team will then wait for the new year to turn at Palmer Station and in Chile.
Denver’s own new year will come next, and then an hour later Port Hueneme will head into the year 2000. Only then will the Denver team be done for the day.
Bradley is anticipating some small problems, she said, but none with critical equipment. The NSF says it has a high level of confidence the transition to the new year will happen without an
interruption to science research or support.
A thousand years ago, some Europeans feared the world would end with the first millennium. Now, at the close of this millennium, concern has spread to all levels of societies around the world. Some people say the end is near.
Others seem less alarmed but forewarn of gas, cash and other shortages as people hoard supplies they fear will become unavailable.
In Antarctica, and in our support structure back in the U.S., there is relative calm. While it’s likely that there will be problems in some areas of the world where technology lags, the U.S. Antarctic Program has spent over a million dollars since 1997 to ensure that the remote, resource-limited stations in Antarctica will not have problems.
“Basically anything that plugs in or has a battery backup was assessed in some way,” said Beth Bradley, ASA’s Year 2000 project manager.
While many people are concerned about computers, Bradley said, they are not the primary concern with the Antarctic program.
The problem is caused by confusion in pieces of electronics which have internal clocks. If they fail to properly recognize January 1 as the year 2000 and not 1900, problems could arise. In addition, the fact that next year is a leap year compounds the issue.
With power plants, a TV and radio station, medical equipment, and science equipment, as well as the research vessels and the ubiquitous GPS units, Antarctica is a very technology-dependent place.
“We have more than most companies,” Bradley said.
It is perhaps a blessing, then, that some of the equipment in use is so old. Korean War-vintage radios, for example, have no internal clock, and thus aren’t expected to have any problems, Bradley said.
One problem area Bradley didn’t anticipate was the monitoring system on the heat traces, which warm the outdoor utility pipes at McMurdo and the Pole. If it hadn’t been fixed, the monitoring computer would have failed, potentially freezing all of the pipes at both stations.
It’s not just equipment in Antarctica which was scrutinized. Also examined were the resources of organizations with which ASA and NSF work.
The Air National Guard, Aviation Technical Services, the U.S. Coast Guard, vendors and suppliers of equipment, and subcontractors, as well as the New Zealand and Chilean governments, were all checked for potential problems.
“If anyone thinks of anyone who touches our system in any way I’ll call them and talk to them,” Bradley said.
The computer systems have also been thoroughly checked. Some equipment has been replaced, according to McMurdo computer supervisor Scott Ferguson. Some software has been upgraded or replaced as well, Ferguson said.
Protecting network operations is most important, and involves the checking of all computers that arrive at McMurdo.
“Before it gets attached to the network we test it,” Ferguson said.
E-mail and telephone connections are made via satellite link directly with stations in the United States. Ferguson does not anticipate any problems with those connections. E-mail from Christchurch takes a long route through a number of connections on the ground and in space, but Ferguson is confident those connections will remain intact.
Ferguson also noted that there are multiple methods of communication available. If telephones, for example, do not function properly, radio and e-mail connections will still be possible.
Across the board, Bradley said, equipment has been upgraded or replaced. The project has also required a careful inventory of all items in use throughout the program, which was never fully done before.
“It’s really forced us to update and take a closer look at what we have,” Bradley said.
Now the project is in its final testing phase, verifying readiness of all equipment for the new year
changeover.
“We continue to test and retest,” Bradley said.
Fifty people will work overnight on New Year’s Eve to monitor equipment and make sure everything goes smoothly.
A team in Denver will be awake early to support the Christchurch offices, Pole and McMurdo. The team will then wait for the new year to turn at Palmer Station and in Chile.
Denver’s own new year will come next, and then an hour later Port Hueneme will head into the year 2000. Only then will the Denver team be done for the day.
Bradley is anticipating some small problems, she said, but none with critical equipment. The NSF says it has a high level of confidence the transition to the new year will happen without an
interruption to science research or support.
Sunday, November 28, 1999
Drivin’ and smilin’: Betsy Johnson shuttles people, mail and good cheer
Published in the Antarctic Sun
The shades are on, the radio’s playing NPR and she has a big grin on her face. It’s just another day driving the ice runway shuttle for Betsy Johnson.
She crosses the sea-ice transition more times a week than most people do in a season, piloting a huge orange van with massive wheels through the lumps and bumps where the frozen ocean meets the land of Ross Island.
In the van with her are the people and parcels going back and forth between McMurdo and the collection of buildings at the ice runway. Sometimes the van is full, sometimes she’s the only one, but Betsy doesn’t seem to mind. She is, after all, in Antarctica.
“Where else could driving in circles be more exciting?” she asked. It’s the sort of question which defies an answer, but at the same time explains why so many highly-qualified professionals–Johnson is a physical therapist–take Antarctic jobs they’d never do at home.
This isn’t the first job she’s taken because of the location: Recently she worked as a driver for a cruise line in Alaska, giving passengers tours of areas where the ships docked. She and her husband, Bryan, who works at Air Services in McMurdo, plan to work for the same cruise company again when they get off the Ice, on a working trip from Sydney to Bangkok.
But for the moment, Betsy’s working on winning a bet she made with one of her passengers: that she wouldn’t be smiling at the end of the season. She said she would make it, and her smile is still greeting everyone who scrambles up the metal step into the van.
She picks people up around town, and often goes the extra mile and drops them off at their final destination–instead of Derelict Junction.
Most people do get on at the shuttle stop there, between Building 155 and the dorms. But if they’re injured or carrying heavy things, they get picked up.
Besides the transition, where she concentrates on keeping the van from bumping around too much, Betsy keeps up a running conversation with whomever happens to be along for the trip. It’s a good-natured banter, and keeps her in touch with a lot of the goings-on as they’re happening.
It’s not the most adventurous job in town, she admits, but she gets to meet lots of people as they go to or from work, or travel out to do small repair jobs at the ice runway.
“I’m doing pretty well remembering people’s names now. It’s tough. They all know me, and they get in all bundled up, with their sunglasses on,” she said. Every now and then a bit of adrenaline kicks in. A few weeks ago the vehicles at the ice runway were gathering to convoy back to town before the weather got bad enough to prevent them from making the trip. With the wind worsening and a big line of vehicles in need of a driver to go first, Betsy, in the first few weeks of her first season on the Ice, started the long, slow drive from flag to flag, 3 miles back to town. The convoy made it safely back.
And sometimes a more relaxing event occurs. “Every once in a while, we’ll see some wildlife,” Betsy said. She’s seen seals and penguins along the road and at the ice runway. She and her passengers also get to see incredible fata morgana. She’ll stop and let folks get out and take a few pictures if there’s time.
Betsy always has her own camera with her, and will often take pictures if there’s something spectacular to see. She’s always on the lookout for fun on the trip. But even when there’s not much to be had outside the van, she always waves as passengers pile in, merrily greeting anyone who needs a ride.
The shades are on, the radio’s playing NPR and she has a big grin on her face. It’s just another day driving the ice runway shuttle for Betsy Johnson.
She crosses the sea-ice transition more times a week than most people do in a season, piloting a huge orange van with massive wheels through the lumps and bumps where the frozen ocean meets the land of Ross Island.
In the van with her are the people and parcels going back and forth between McMurdo and the collection of buildings at the ice runway. Sometimes the van is full, sometimes she’s the only one, but Betsy doesn’t seem to mind. She is, after all, in Antarctica.
“Where else could driving in circles be more exciting?” she asked. It’s the sort of question which defies an answer, but at the same time explains why so many highly-qualified professionals–Johnson is a physical therapist–take Antarctic jobs they’d never do at home.
This isn’t the first job she’s taken because of the location: Recently she worked as a driver for a cruise line in Alaska, giving passengers tours of areas where the ships docked. She and her husband, Bryan, who works at Air Services in McMurdo, plan to work for the same cruise company again when they get off the Ice, on a working trip from Sydney to Bangkok.
But for the moment, Betsy’s working on winning a bet she made with one of her passengers: that she wouldn’t be smiling at the end of the season. She said she would make it, and her smile is still greeting everyone who scrambles up the metal step into the van.
She picks people up around town, and often goes the extra mile and drops them off at their final destination–instead of Derelict Junction.
Most people do get on at the shuttle stop there, between Building 155 and the dorms. But if they’re injured or carrying heavy things, they get picked up.
Besides the transition, where she concentrates on keeping the van from bumping around too much, Betsy keeps up a running conversation with whomever happens to be along for the trip. It’s a good-natured banter, and keeps her in touch with a lot of the goings-on as they’re happening.
It’s not the most adventurous job in town, she admits, but she gets to meet lots of people as they go to or from work, or travel out to do small repair jobs at the ice runway.
“I’m doing pretty well remembering people’s names now. It’s tough. They all know me, and they get in all bundled up, with their sunglasses on,” she said. Every now and then a bit of adrenaline kicks in. A few weeks ago the vehicles at the ice runway were gathering to convoy back to town before the weather got bad enough to prevent them from making the trip. With the wind worsening and a big line of vehicles in need of a driver to go first, Betsy, in the first few weeks of her first season on the Ice, started the long, slow drive from flag to flag, 3 miles back to town. The convoy made it safely back.
And sometimes a more relaxing event occurs. “Every once in a while, we’ll see some wildlife,” Betsy said. She’s seen seals and penguins along the road and at the ice runway. She and her passengers also get to see incredible fata morgana. She’ll stop and let folks get out and take a few pictures if there’s time.
Betsy always has her own camera with her, and will often take pictures if there’s something spectacular to see. She’s always on the lookout for fun on the trip. But even when there’s not much to be had outside the van, she always waves as passengers pile in, merrily greeting anyone who needs a ride.
Gas, food, lodging (and cargo): Marble Point serves up warmth and good cheer
Published in the Antarctic Sun
Flying into Marble Point there’s not much to see from the air. It’s about five buildings, dwarfed by fuel tanks. It’s all tucked away into the loose gravel of a spit of land between the glacier and the sea.
But upon exiting the helicopter, you discover another world. A man waves and shouts hello from across the landing area. Even the fuelie smiles as she drags a hose toward the thirsty vehicle. A woman waits in the warm house, ready with hot chocolate, tea, and coffee.
They are James Raml, Meg Flanagan and Diane Bedell. They are the real Marble Point. McMurdo’s still the big town, but this is civilization, Antarctic style.
Helicopter pilots know Marble Point well. They fly into and out of the Dry Valleys through the area.
The Cape Roberts pilots also stay here, on the west side of McMurdo Sound, to be able to fly the morning shift change even if there’s weather in McMurdo.
Raml describes the place simply. “It’s gas, food, lodging and cargo.”
For four seasons, he’s been the site manager, the telecommunications technician and general handyman. If it’s been built or repaired around Marble Point, he’s worked on it. There’s almost nobody else, and not much in the way of materials.
He took a Wannigan structure when Williams Field got rid of it. It was leaning over and pretty well beaten up.
That was a couple of years ago. Now it’s upright, with a new floor and a new coat of paint on the inside. It sleeps eight and includes a furnace that’s as clean as a new one.
All of that was done with materials left over from other projects, including work done at McMurdo or the South Pole.
There’s always more to do. Among the tasks: Cleaning up the site from decades of messy Antarctic operations, getting cargo ready for transport to the Dry Valleys, getting waste and cargo ready to return to McMurdo, and then–oh yes–the normal stuff to support life.
Even in just a short 10-minute tour of the place, Raml comes up with a list of about a dozen things he intends to work on now or in the future.
“Every year I try to get a few things done,” he said of his “spare-time” projects.
In addition to helping Raml with the cargo and life-supportjobs, Bedell makes sure the guests are at home in their well-maintained surroundings.
“We try to run it basically as a bed and breakfast,” she said.
She makes an excellent quiche, ensures that everyone has more hot drinks than they can
hold, and is the weather observer, medic, and doer of anything Raml doesn’t do–except fuels.
She is very relaxed, though, even with all that on her plate. She’ll sit with you and talk if you’re in the mood, or let you be.
Raml and Bedell make an excellent team. They have anywhere from one to 12 guests on any given night. The camp can sleep 17, and while the table is not quite big enough for everyone all at once, there’s plenty of room for eating in shifts.
The other member of the team is the refueling technician. Fuelies rotate every three weeks, which is a nice break from town, but is no picnic. Helicopters fly 24 hours a day for large portions of the season, and there’s always another one coming in.
It means all three are going all day long, stealing time “off” whenever there’s nobody visiting and no helicopter on the way.
The beautiful setting is just part of the payoff for being the first field camp put in each season, and the last to be pulled out. For all of them, it’s the appreciation on visitors’ faces when they realize this is a special place and that they’re as welcome as can be.
Flying into Marble Point there’s not much to see from the air. It’s about five buildings, dwarfed by fuel tanks. It’s all tucked away into the loose gravel of a spit of land between the glacier and the sea.
But upon exiting the helicopter, you discover another world. A man waves and shouts hello from across the landing area. Even the fuelie smiles as she drags a hose toward the thirsty vehicle. A woman waits in the warm house, ready with hot chocolate, tea, and coffee.
They are James Raml, Meg Flanagan and Diane Bedell. They are the real Marble Point. McMurdo’s still the big town, but this is civilization, Antarctic style.
Helicopter pilots know Marble Point well. They fly into and out of the Dry Valleys through the area.
The Cape Roberts pilots also stay here, on the west side of McMurdo Sound, to be able to fly the morning shift change even if there’s weather in McMurdo.
Raml describes the place simply. “It’s gas, food, lodging and cargo.”
For four seasons, he’s been the site manager, the telecommunications technician and general handyman. If it’s been built or repaired around Marble Point, he’s worked on it. There’s almost nobody else, and not much in the way of materials.
He took a Wannigan structure when Williams Field got rid of it. It was leaning over and pretty well beaten up.
That was a couple of years ago. Now it’s upright, with a new floor and a new coat of paint on the inside. It sleeps eight and includes a furnace that’s as clean as a new one.
All of that was done with materials left over from other projects, including work done at McMurdo or the South Pole.
There’s always more to do. Among the tasks: Cleaning up the site from decades of messy Antarctic operations, getting cargo ready for transport to the Dry Valleys, getting waste and cargo ready to return to McMurdo, and then–oh yes–the normal stuff to support life.
Even in just a short 10-minute tour of the place, Raml comes up with a list of about a dozen things he intends to work on now or in the future.
“Every year I try to get a few things done,” he said of his “spare-time” projects.
In addition to helping Raml with the cargo and life-supportjobs, Bedell makes sure the guests are at home in their well-maintained surroundings.
“We try to run it basically as a bed and breakfast,” she said.
She makes an excellent quiche, ensures that everyone has more hot drinks than they can
hold, and is the weather observer, medic, and doer of anything Raml doesn’t do–except fuels.
She is very relaxed, though, even with all that on her plate. She’ll sit with you and talk if you’re in the mood, or let you be.
Raml and Bedell make an excellent team. They have anywhere from one to 12 guests on any given night. The camp can sleep 17, and while the table is not quite big enough for everyone all at once, there’s plenty of room for eating in shifts.
The other member of the team is the refueling technician. Fuelies rotate every three weeks, which is a nice break from town, but is no picnic. Helicopters fly 24 hours a day for large portions of the season, and there’s always another one coming in.
It means all three are going all day long, stealing time “off” whenever there’s nobody visiting and no helicopter on the way.
The beautiful setting is just part of the payoff for being the first field camp put in each season, and the last to be pulled out. For all of them, it’s the appreciation on visitors’ faces when they realize this is a special place and that they’re as welcome as can be.
Ambling through Ice Town
Published in the Antarctic Sun
Three miles out onto the sea ice from McMurdo Station, a few small buildings are clustered together in two rows. Radio antennas are perched atop rooftops; vehicles come and go constantly. Bulldozers and graders clear runways, roads, and loading and fueling areas.
It’s sometimes called “Ross Island International Airport,” but more often it’s “the ice runway.”
As the staging area for cargo and passengers coming to and from Antarctica and moving around the continent, the ice runway (and later in the season, Williams Field) is a vital area for successful seasons at McMurdo, South Pole and the field camps.
It’s easy to think an airport is just about pilots and air crews, but there is much more behind the scenes. People who don’t fly at all have key roles to play in the process.
Three miles out onto the sea ice from McMurdo Station, a few small buildings are clustered together in two rows. Radio antennas are perched atop rooftops; vehicles come and go constantly. Bulldozers and graders clear runways, roads, and loading and fueling areas.
It’s sometimes called “Ross Island International Airport,” but more often it’s “the ice runway.”
As the staging area for cargo and passengers coming to and from Antarctica and moving around the continent, the ice runway (and later in the season, Williams Field) is a vital area for successful seasons at McMurdo, South Pole and the field camps.
It’s easy to think an airport is just about pilots and air crews, but there is much more behind the scenes. People who don’t fly at all have key roles to play in the process.
Sunday, November 21, 1999
Cold Hard Queries
Published in the Antarctic Sun
In recent days, several people have stopped by the Sun’s office and posed intriguing Antarctic trivia questions. Here are the answers we’ve found:
Is there lightning in Antarctica?
Jeff Prucinsky of Mac Weather reports, “I do not believe that there has ever been a recorded case of lightning in the Antarctic.” The reason is that lightning requires clouds that are tall enough to have large areas of positive and negative charge. Because Antarctica is so flat and white, there is little convective activity, and no chance for clouds to form high enough, Prucinsky said. With no tall clouds, there is no lightning.
How did Amundsen and Scott know when they had reached the South Pole?
Both expeditions used a navigational instrument called a theodolite (the-AHD-oh-lite), which measures the elevation of the sun above the horizon, to map the track of its orbit. From the
path of the sun across the sky, Amundsen’s and Scott’s parties were able to determine their latitude. Longitude was of no concern, since longitude is meaningless at the poles. As well, Scott knew he was at the Pole because he found a Norwegian flag planted there.
Why is a Jamesway called a Jamesway?
This is a tough one. Though we’ve been unable to pin down an answer, we’ve heard several theories, including that the building is named after a person named James Butler Way, or
after a person or corporation called Jamesway. If you can shed additional light on
these ideas, or know of other theories, please contact us at the Sun.
In recent days, several people have stopped by the Sun’s office and posed intriguing Antarctic trivia questions. Here are the answers we’ve found:
Is there lightning in Antarctica?
Jeff Prucinsky of Mac Weather reports, “I do not believe that there has ever been a recorded case of lightning in the Antarctic.” The reason is that lightning requires clouds that are tall enough to have large areas of positive and negative charge. Because Antarctica is so flat and white, there is little convective activity, and no chance for clouds to form high enough, Prucinsky said. With no tall clouds, there is no lightning.
How did Amundsen and Scott know when they had reached the South Pole?
Both expeditions used a navigational instrument called a theodolite (the-AHD-oh-lite), which measures the elevation of the sun above the horizon, to map the track of its orbit. From the
path of the sun across the sky, Amundsen’s and Scott’s parties were able to determine their latitude. Longitude was of no concern, since longitude is meaningless at the poles. As well, Scott knew he was at the Pole because he found a Norwegian flag planted there.
Why is a Jamesway called a Jamesway?
This is a tough one. Though we’ve been unable to pin down an answer, we’ve heard several theories, including that the building is named after a person named James Butler Way, or
after a person or corporation called Jamesway. If you can shed additional light on
these ideas, or know of other theories, please contact us at the Sun.
Esprit de ‘core’: Teamwork takes Cape Roberts Project to new depths
Published in the Antarctic Sun
It’s the deepest bedrock hole in Antarctica. When the drilling at Cape Roberts stopped for the season on Thursday the hole was 3,084 feet deep—more than 650 feet farther than the previous record.
The two drillers, Malcolm MacDonald and Frank Tansey, took turns being the most important men in the Cape Roberts Project: the men who made sure the core kept coming up out of the hole and into the hands of climate researchers.
The drillers, though, couldn’t do anything without a lot of help of all kinds. The 40-person support and science team at Cape Roberts works around the clock, which makes for some odd situations.
“It seems a bit strange to see people in here having a beer at 8:30 in the morning, but it’s their night time,” said Colleen Clarke, who runs the camp during the day. Pat Cooper, the drill site manager, has been working in Antarctica since the early 1980s.
“The ‘Antarctic factor’ down here has a lot of influence on our drilling,” Cooper said.
Among the challenges this year was an April storm, which broke out some of the sea ice near where the drill site was planned to go. In August, a team flew down to check out the area and set up the camp.
“We didn’t really know for sure what was happening until we got down here at Winfly,” Cooper said.
But things looked good, and they decided to drill this year.
Now the project involves over 60 researchers and support staff. “It’s a mix of technology and science objectives,” said Peter Barrett, a member of the project’s management team.
A 60-ton drill rig sits on the sea ice, supported by the strength of the 8-foot-thick ice and under-ice balloons, which give an additional 11 tons of lift.
A 5-inch pipe, called the sea riser, provides the conduit in which the drill passes through the 980-foot-deep sea water. It must be freestanding and self-supporting to work properly. Suspending it from the sea ice only forces the ice to support more weight.
“It has to be totally independent of the systems up here,” Cooper said.
But it is impossible to stand a 980-foot-long 5-inch pipe on its end without help from above. The pipe is sunk 30 feet into the sea floor and is supported at the middle and the top by air bladders which pull up on the pipe to maintain the pipe’s rigidity and prevent it from bending or buckling too much.
They also have to deal with the movement of the sea ice itself. Under current conditions, the ice can move nearly 60 feet in any one direction before the angle of the drilling equipment will prevent it from working properly.
“To date we have moved off 6 meters (20 feet) from where we spotted in,” Cooper said.
The project has had the same drill crew for three years, which has made things easier every year, according to science coordinator Peter Webb.
“We’ve had amazing continuity,” Cooper said. “We’re a bit of a family, really, the old Cape Roberts team.”
When the core comes out of the hole, it begins a journey which will move it faster and further than ever before in its 40-million-year history.
It is removed from the core pipe and goes to the lab at the drill site for preliminary examination.
The core is examined, scanned, tested for physical properties, and split into an archive half, stored safely for the future, and a working half, from which samples will be taken at Crary Lab.
The working half is scanned again before the core goes on the helicopter to the camp and Crary. At $10,000 per yard of core, it’s worth a little extra time to photograph and scan everything in case of a helicopter accident or other disaster.
Some samples of the core are extracted at the drill site lab, to be used to determine more about the characteristics of the rocks being drilled, as well as to attempt to approximate an age for the rock layer.
The research is not just on the core itself, though. Some researchers are using the availability of a deep hole through many layers of rock to study the rock in situ.
Christian Buecker is one of these scientists. He does what is called “down-hole logging,” sending instruments down the hole to collect data about the rock around the hole, at intervals of a tenth of an inch.
The logging process takes a long time; 12 instruments run one at a time, at a speed of between three and 33 feet per minute, through about 1,150 feet of hole at a stretch. At the end of the last
logging run, Buecker had been awake for 44 of the previous 50 hours.
“We are looking for the physical and chemical properties,” Buecker said.
The data gathered helps them understand the core better, as well as the surrounding rock.
“It partly confirms our information and gives us new information about the structure,” Buecker said.
Among other things, Buecker has learned that the temperature at 2,500 feet down the hole (below the sea floor) is 68 F. It increases as they get closer to the center of the Earth.
But 3,084 feet is as close as the project will get to the Earth’s center. But in terms of both science and technology, this is not the end.
Camp manager Jim Cowrie has put in a proposal to the member countries of the Cape Roberts Project to set up a consortium of Antarctic drillers and researchers who use drilling as a method of gathering data.
Barrett is also making an effort to expand beyond just this three-year project. He hopes eventually to be able to drill through the center of the ice sheet, perhaps at Vostok, and into the
sediment below, to see what was happening in the center of Antarctica.
But even this work, in which the margins of the ice sheet are being studied, has been fruitful.
“It’s advanced the technology and advanced the science,” Barrett said. “We actually think this is fun.”
It’s the deepest bedrock hole in Antarctica. When the drilling at Cape Roberts stopped for the season on Thursday the hole was 3,084 feet deep—more than 650 feet farther than the previous record.
The two drillers, Malcolm MacDonald and Frank Tansey, took turns being the most important men in the Cape Roberts Project: the men who made sure the core kept coming up out of the hole and into the hands of climate researchers.
The drillers, though, couldn’t do anything without a lot of help of all kinds. The 40-person support and science team at Cape Roberts works around the clock, which makes for some odd situations.
“It seems a bit strange to see people in here having a beer at 8:30 in the morning, but it’s their night time,” said Colleen Clarke, who runs the camp during the day. Pat Cooper, the drill site manager, has been working in Antarctica since the early 1980s.
“The ‘Antarctic factor’ down here has a lot of influence on our drilling,” Cooper said.
Among the challenges this year was an April storm, which broke out some of the sea ice near where the drill site was planned to go. In August, a team flew down to check out the area and set up the camp.
“We didn’t really know for sure what was happening until we got down here at Winfly,” Cooper said.
But things looked good, and they decided to drill this year.
Now the project involves over 60 researchers and support staff. “It’s a mix of technology and science objectives,” said Peter Barrett, a member of the project’s management team.
A 60-ton drill rig sits on the sea ice, supported by the strength of the 8-foot-thick ice and under-ice balloons, which give an additional 11 tons of lift.
A 5-inch pipe, called the sea riser, provides the conduit in which the drill passes through the 980-foot-deep sea water. It must be freestanding and self-supporting to work properly. Suspending it from the sea ice only forces the ice to support more weight.
“It has to be totally independent of the systems up here,” Cooper said.
But it is impossible to stand a 980-foot-long 5-inch pipe on its end without help from above. The pipe is sunk 30 feet into the sea floor and is supported at the middle and the top by air bladders which pull up on the pipe to maintain the pipe’s rigidity and prevent it from bending or buckling too much.
They also have to deal with the movement of the sea ice itself. Under current conditions, the ice can move nearly 60 feet in any one direction before the angle of the drilling equipment will prevent it from working properly.
“To date we have moved off 6 meters (20 feet) from where we spotted in,” Cooper said.
The project has had the same drill crew for three years, which has made things easier every year, according to science coordinator Peter Webb.
“We’ve had amazing continuity,” Cooper said. “We’re a bit of a family, really, the old Cape Roberts team.”
When the core comes out of the hole, it begins a journey which will move it faster and further than ever before in its 40-million-year history.
It is removed from the core pipe and goes to the lab at the drill site for preliminary examination.
The core is examined, scanned, tested for physical properties, and split into an archive half, stored safely for the future, and a working half, from which samples will be taken at Crary Lab.
The working half is scanned again before the core goes on the helicopter to the camp and Crary. At $10,000 per yard of core, it’s worth a little extra time to photograph and scan everything in case of a helicopter accident or other disaster.
Some samples of the core are extracted at the drill site lab, to be used to determine more about the characteristics of the rocks being drilled, as well as to attempt to approximate an age for the rock layer.
The research is not just on the core itself, though. Some researchers are using the availability of a deep hole through many layers of rock to study the rock in situ.
Christian Buecker is one of these scientists. He does what is called “down-hole logging,” sending instruments down the hole to collect data about the rock around the hole, at intervals of a tenth of an inch.
The logging process takes a long time; 12 instruments run one at a time, at a speed of between three and 33 feet per minute, through about 1,150 feet of hole at a stretch. At the end of the last
logging run, Buecker had been awake for 44 of the previous 50 hours.
“We are looking for the physical and chemical properties,” Buecker said.
The data gathered helps them understand the core better, as well as the surrounding rock.
“It partly confirms our information and gives us new information about the structure,” Buecker said.
Among other things, Buecker has learned that the temperature at 2,500 feet down the hole (below the sea floor) is 68 F. It increases as they get closer to the center of the Earth.
But 3,084 feet is as close as the project will get to the Earth’s center. But in terms of both science and technology, this is not the end.
Camp manager Jim Cowrie has put in a proposal to the member countries of the Cape Roberts Project to set up a consortium of Antarctic drillers and researchers who use drilling as a method of gathering data.
Barrett is also making an effort to expand beyond just this three-year project. He hopes eventually to be able to drill through the center of the ice sheet, perhaps at Vostok, and into the
sediment below, to see what was happening in the center of Antarctica.
But even this work, in which the margins of the ice sheet are being studied, has been fruitful.
“It’s advanced the technology and advanced the science,” Barrett said. “We actually think this is fun.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)