On the Gould

It is amazing to float out at sea, working 12 hour watches, fishing, learning to splice, mend nets and generally support science aboard a boat. Our workdays are broken into two main shifts, noon to midnight and midnight to noon. I have worked both. When there is work to be done, however, it is not uncommon to work 17 hours in a day while at sea. Sleep is pretty much the only activity I regularly take part in, though I have been able to read a fair amount and play a little guitar during breaks in action. We have stopped at Palmer twice now, first to unload cargo and people from Punta Arenas, second to unload fish we caught to be studied by scientists in the Palmer Station labs.

The waves of pancake ice in 5 ft rolling swells look surreal and beautiful. At night time the Gould's lights light them up as we cruise a path through a rolling sea of white. Yesterday we spent a good part of the day at Santa Clause Island, a remote island with a now defunct weather
station, investigating whether or not we could install some equipment on a tower that is rumored to still stand there. We were unable to locate it and the surge was wild, preventing an exploratory party (of which I was part of) from heading out.

Today we are heading back to Palmer Station, after a full night of fishing. We have had a successful haul, dredging up ice fish of all types, a Dumbo octopus as big as my head, eels, squids, rays and a number of other interesting species. We have lost two nets, to the icy drink. One, named Business Time, is a net created by my fellow Marine Technicians, Dan, Jamee and I. It wasn't Business Time that failed however. The 3/8 inch stainless steel cable is what broke, leaving Business Time likely full of fish, in perfect form, at the bottom of the ocean.

That's about all I have to report. We will have a night at Palmer, unload our fish and head back out tomorrow. There will be time to see some loved ones, have a beer and buy a new toothbrush.

High seas off the back deck

Pots (fish traps) with buoys, rope coils, and high-flier with flashing light and radio beacons

Pushing the pots off the back deck

Getting Ready in the MT Shop

North

I have stepped aboard the research vessel Laurence M. Gould for the next two months. Currently I am in Punta Arenas, Chile, having my first draft beer and frolicking in the sun. The Gould doesn't have internet, but I will write and post photos as I am able. We get email every day, but my days of bloghopping and Scrabulous are at a hiatus. I will definitely be posting blogs as I come in and out of port as we will be making frequent stops at Palmer Station and to Punta Arenas.

Leaving Palmer was a sad affair, but thankfully I was armed with the knowledge that I will be back in just a couple of weeks. Crossing the Drake Passage was a bit more rough than it was last December. The seas were over 30ft and our ship was pummeled by bergy bits the most of the way. I would hear them slam into the bow and then drag along the bottom. Such seas are hard to work in, and it requires great concentration to complete simple tasks like walking or sleeping. Now we are docked next to the Nathaniel Palmer (of which I got a tour today), another Antarctic research vessel and my old friend the sun hangs proudly overhead. Last night I was able to paint the town up with some great friends, as we said goodbyes and sipped delicious Pisco Sours. We sail south again in 3 days. For now I am busy learning the tricks and trades of my new job and trying to remember how to use money.

Palmerites waving goodbye to us as we sail away.

The sun as it sat today, high in the sky.

Nathaniel Palmer as seen from the Gould

Goodbyes and Liar's Dice

Let's Get to Know Adam

1) WHAT WAS I DOING TEN YEARS AGO?

I was studying at the University of Tasmania, in Hobart. It was my first time out of North America. I walked or rode my bike to the art school on the ocean and it affected me deeply. I bought fish and chips from the boats floating at the marina during lunch and spent my weekends taking trips around the island, sailing, hiking. I was 19 and in Australia it was legal for me to buy alcohol, rent cars and hitch-hiking was regarded as a completely safe and normal occupation.


2)WHAT ARE 5 THINGS ON MY LIST TO DO TODAY?

- Oil change Yamaha outboard motor
- Find some people to do the things I do, when I am gone next week
- Build Wonderbread (it's a platform boat)
- Watch a video on Net Mending
- Take a nap


3) THINGS I WOULD DO IF I WAS A BILLIONAIRE

- Finish Gould job
- Go to Ilha Grande in Brazil, buy a bicycle and a tropical drink
- Travel more and more
- Purchase dream house and spend some time making art


4) FIVE PLACES I HAVE LIVED

- Duluth, Minnesota, USA
- Hobart, Tasmania, Australia
- Panama City, Panama
- Ithaca, New York, USA
- South Pole Station, Antarctica


5) THREE OF MY BAD HABITS

- I talk a lot of nonsense
- I have trouble making decisions about seemingly insubstantial things
- I drink too much coffee


6) FIVE JOBS I HAVE HAD

- Carpenter Helper
- Bookbinder
- 8th Grade Art Teacher
- Kayaking Guide
- Barista


7) HOW DID YOU NAME YOUR BLOG

- I stole it from the Disney cartoon "Kimpossible"


8) NEED TO TAG 5 or 6 PEOPLE

I (like Payot) choose to tag nobody.

From Time to Time

I will be leaving Palmer in less than a week. Sometimes I am excited, sometimes sad, sometimes sleepy. Primarily though, I am looking forward to a change of pace. As much as I might like to write that I will be drinking a coconut-themed drink on a beach in South America, that dream will have to wait. Instead, I will be joining the ranks of proud Marine Technicians aboard the Laurence M. Gould, the research vessel that brought me down here. Besides shuttling people to and from Palmer Station, the LMG primarily does science along the Antarctic peninsula. It is big and orange and a lot like the Belafonte from the Life Aquatic. Except without the hot tub or observation bubble. And they don't carry Glocks, that I know of.

As for the specific duties of my job to be, I can't say for sure. 12 hour shifts, 7 days a week while at sea (I think). From my experience on the fishing cruises last month, I know I will help casting out the nets that scientists use to troll for fish. Cast and haul, sort through the fish, putting the special ones into tanks. I will possibly be taking trips in the two on-board Zodiacs with scientists to get to shallower fishing sites. General maintenance, repairing nets and Zodiacs, recording data from various computers, loading and unloading cargo at Palmer and Punta Arenas. We will basically be cruising along the peninsula and crossing the Drake Passage from time to time.

It's all very exciting, but hard to imagine as I wrap things up here at Palmer. The Boathouse is still busy with occasional boating classes, protecting the boats from fierce winds and working on projects left over from summers long since passed. Yesterday, as I cruised out to Torgersen Island and around Arthur Harbor, I couldn't help but wonder if it would be my last time. Today I will draw my house mouse (weekend clean-up) job, and ponder the same question. Of course I will be back here in a few weeks, but as a visitor. I certainly hope to come back to Palmer again as a member of the community. My last seven months here have been extraordinary. Rather than focusing on a week of lasts, I want this next week to be a reminder to me about appreciating time in a remarkable place with inspired people.

OSAR

OSAR training, as it is every month, was a hoot and a holler last week. Although boating hours are getting longer they currently only run from 11:26am to 1:10pm (sunrise is at 10:26am and sunset at 2:10pm) so getting out on the water is a precious thing. Thankfully our OSAR team was up for the challenge as we took to the seas to practice man-overboard drills in 15 knot winds. We even had three volunteers to wear the immersion suits in the water.

Anthony and Payot carefully prepare for a pick-up.

They slowly approach the unlucky customer.

The person is lifted carefully into the Zodiac.

After everyone is back in the boat the team cruises back to Palmer for warm drinks.

On the way back, we encountered a cluster of people in the water, crying for help.

Upon our approach, it turned out they were just having fun. So we left them to swim back to station.

Two Videos

Here's a little video of us leaving Vernadsky, bellies full of milk and honey.



This time lapse video was made by Mayor WASLO (AKA Chris Seliga) of us unloading fish from the Gould. I can be seen operating the orange SkyTrak, picking the boat, dropping it into the sea. Almost everyone on station makes an appearance in this dramatic work of art.

Vernadsky

Last weekend, along with a group of 20 other Palmerites, I took a trip aboard the Laurence M. Gould to the Ukranian Station, Vernadsky on Galindez Island. It is in a similar area I visited three weeks ago, through the stunning Lemaire Channel. The main difference this time was that we would be allowed to disembark the Gould for an afternoon of frivolity and adventure with the Ukranian winter crew. The voyage was serene, full of humpback pods frolicking in the setting sun and quiet games with friends in the Gould lounge. At Vernadsky life picked up. The shores of the base are too shallow for the Gould to tie up so we approached the station on two Zodiacs. The small Ukranian crew was waiting for us at the shore. An all men station, Vernadsky is a former Brittish base handed over to the Ukraine in 1996. The contracts the men work are normally a year or longer. The summer brings them many visitors, but now, in the depths of winter, we were a novelty for them. The main reason for our little boondoggle was to bring the new cook. Not only were they happy to have visitors, they were especially happy to have someone to take care of cooking and cleaning.

Upon arrival we were given a tour of their main building, by the IT guy who spoke the best English. The building is two stories and provides sleeping room for up to 24 people (though there are only 12 on station now), a medical area, various offices, and a reverse osmosis plant on the ground floor. On the second floor there is a lounge, library, dining room and kitchen. Here we were presented with a colorful spread of food for lunch. Each of the men made a plate of food, some of which included various smoked fish, mock crab, beet and cabbage salad and toasty bits. They offered a toast with their home made Horilka, which is milk and honey vodka. It was all very tasty. We were able to eat and chat for a few hours, when our responsible Station Manager whisked us away to the Zodiacs and on our way back to Palmer. I was sad to leave after such a brief time, but was given the gift of a fish head by the Vernadsky Doctor, to remember my brief and pleasant stay.





























































I am not quite sure what this sign says, but I think it speaks fairly clearly for itself. If you see the abominable snowman point him out and run. Don't try to tickle the skeleton. Gold taco fish are good and yummy but be sure to follow-up with some water.

Palmer Station Bar

The bar at Palmer station is a very special place. It is so special that I often wonder how my South Pole friends manage without one. It is great to have a place where everyone can congregate in a relaxed atmosphere. Not everyone drinks, those who do can do it in a relaxed social setting. The bar at Palmer attracts everyone. Some more than others of course, but it brings together scientist and carpenter. Visitor and resident. Old and young. The Palmer bar has a sound system with thousands of songs, walls full of memorabilia, and a card table. It also has a pool table, a popcorn machine. Such grand events that have happened at the bar since I arrived include a Piñata, numerous birthday parties, trivia night, live music, a scavenger hunt, Poker tournaments, kareoke, a Scrabble-off and any number of impromptu get-togethers.

Progression

Another month is winding its way towards closure. The days sometimes creep by at a very slow pace indeed, yet somehow months fly by like seconds, without a chance to reflect upon it's activities. As far as station life is concerned things couldn't be more active. This past week, with the population down, I was able to fit in a few games of poker, some serious hot tub time and yet another viewing of The Life Aquatic.

Working in the boathouse does dominate most days here, and even with only two science groups on station, the boating world is very busy. Winter brings all types of strife to our floating Zodiacs. My position here has taken on the shape of of a man fighting entropy. Lines are continually getting caught, boats packed and rammed by ice, torn, popped. Without constant supervision it is hard to imagine the boats lasting more than a few days on the water. They sit like children, idling their days among the dangers of Antarctica.

The rest of station seems to have found a steady groove as well in their work. We all know each other now. Here is a little panorama video I shot in the Neumayer Channel on my LMG Fishing Cruise.

The Sun Sets, The Moon Rises

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.

Wild Life

Most of the time it's easy to take the wildlife here for granted. In the summer in particular, there are penguins by the thousands, whales spy-hopping boats, giant petrels circling over head and seals battling on bergy bits. Yesterday was a great day for wildlife by any measure. First, there was the crab-eater seal that I discovered floating on a piece of ice as I began my morning boat maintenance. It had two deep gouges on it's belly, possibly having come from a battle with a leopard seal. The seal was lounging as the Gould came into port and hardly bothered by the orange monolith crashing into its bed and spinning it around, sounding horns, casting lines. It was definitely alive and kicking and I have often seen them with large scars on their bodies.

Later that afternoon, thanks to a tip from the divers, a couple of us were lucky to spot a wayward king penguin on the shore of Torgersen Island. These penguins are very cool and dive to depths of 1000 feet. The king penguin is the second largest species of penguin at about 3 ft tall, second only to the emperor penguin. The first I have ever seen and a very rare sight around these parts. Why was he there? Alone? Contemplative? The world may never know.

Life Interrupted

It's hard to write about all the things that happen here. Partly because much of the excitement at Palmer Station comes from interpersonal relations, conflicts, forbidden love and the occasional daring adventure. But the surface Palmer can also be thrilling. Last night the Gould returned, after two weeks of population 26, we are back up to 41. The winds are blowing at 40 knots with gusts of 50 making unloading freshies (vegetables, eggs, etc.) from the ship to our station galley a dramatic ordeal. The station is full of newbies, and our simple lives are interrupted by rookie mistakes and people who don't yet realize how important it is to refill the coffee machine if you happen to be the one to finish it. Of course, we have all been in this situation before and in a few days they will be part of the family.