Fishing Cruise

Until the day before yesterday it had been 5 months since setting foot outside of Palmer station’s 2 mile radius. My life has been transformed here, retooled and reconfigured. People live here, fairytale lives, in the Antarctic mountains, tripping to islands and glacier trekking. Roughly 30 minutes before another standard Gould departure I was given the opportunity to leave with it, for three days on a scientific fishing cruise. Though I couldn’t have asked for better timing, the decision was difficult. Who will take care of the boats? Who will run cartoons on Sunday morning? The big Aloha Party in the boathouse is tonight! These thoughts and more raced through my mind. Stepping away, I managed a yes and hit the ground, gathering things and boarding the boat, just as the line handlers were taking up the gangplank and setting the ship to sea.

We boarded the Gould on Saturday at 1pm and were on our way toward the Neumayer straights by 3. The day was clear and crisp. The moon waning gibbous and sky shades of purple and pink. It was a perfect Palmer day. There were three other Palmerites along for the ride as well. We spent our first few hours on deck, watching the sunset and gazing at the mountains. That evening we hung around, enjoying the luxuries of our own rooms, splendid views and an entirely new cast and crew of characters. At about midnight I awoke to help out with some fishing, which is the current science happening on board. Nets are lowered into the sea and dragged along the ocean floor in order to collect fish. The goal of the night was ice fish, a slow moving, monstrosity of a fish. The scientist, Detrich and his colleagues are finding out firsthand how the ice fish survive and thrive without a normal oxygen transport system, and how their genetic makeup may eventually help treat blood diseases in humans. The nets bring up a large variety of sea-life including starfish, squids, octopi, and fish of all types. I helped sort the creatures, pulling ice fish from the mass of sea life and shoveling the rest over board. The entire process of dropping the net, trolling and sorting takes about 2 hours. Fish lie close to the ocean floor at night so the majority of successful trolling happens in the dark.

The next morning was the first morning I have slept in during the last 5 months and it felt terrific. I dozed until 10am and lounged in the galley until we were invited by Lily, future BC and current Marine Technician onboard the Gould, to take a trip in a Zodiac to Astrolabe Needle, a rocky spire that juts off the coastline of Brabend Island. The needle stands like a giant tree trunk, 100 meters straight out of the water. As we approached, a humpback whale was rolling around in the shoals around the monolith. Idling, it came to us and spy hopped a bit, showing fins and spouting.

Back at the boat our evening finished up leisurely, with scrabble and a dramatic sunset. The next morning we received word that someone at the nearby Ukranian station, Vernadsky needed to be medevaced. We took a lovely morning cruise through the Lemair Channel, one of the most scenic places in Antarctica according to the captain. A Zodiac was sent to the station as we parked off shore.

Now, back at Palmer I find myself on the edge of some great change. It was an ideal trip, as I struggle to find an ideal path at a strange crossroad. Trying to understand someone who seems to have misunderstood me. And hoping that the sights and sounds of uncertainty are not as overwhelming as they sometimes appear.