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.

Days Gone By

The Gould has gone with almost all summer folks. It is a sad turn of events, though brings our station population down to 26. I have my own room for the time being and lines at the dish washing station are manageable. Indeed, it is the good life. This coming weekend is a two day weekend for us. This comes at a much needed time, before the Gould returns for a 21 day stay. They will be in and out of port, fishing and running experiments along the peninsula.

The divers have begun diving at night, which keeps the late hours interesting. It is surreal to see them motoring around our inlet in the darkness, flashing their lights, in competition with stars and moon. Both of which have been in full form these past few nights.

On Earth Day, the divers along with 6 or 7 volunteers, retrieved 300 lbs of trash from the sea floor around station. I was out on a Boating II class, and unable to help out, but it was a pretty cool event, in honor of a great day. Also, thanks to an unexpected arrival of the sun we were all given 2 hours "safety break" to go boating. Our first wave took off to Hermit Island for some hiking and cruising around Cormorant Island and the glacier. We saw a variety of seals and birds. Cormorants, penguins, Giant Petrels. On the second wave, a group of us went to Humble Island where Station Manager Brett and Doctor Will allowed us (permit holders) to watch them weigh Giant Petrel chicks. They weren't quite as small and cuddly as you might imagine but they are prehistoric looking animals. The chicks weighed in over 12 lbs with wing spans of 5 ft and more. Oddly enough, as the birders approach the birds to pick them up and shove them in a bag, they don't struggle much at all. The parents as well, flutter away, leaving their chick to deal with the molestation on it's own terms. Thankfully the birders are careful, trained and respectful and no harm is done to the animal. Indeed the measurements gleaned are used to protect the species. After Humble Island we cruised around Loudwater Cove to enjoy the sights and sounds of the glacier. Carla, our IT guru and OSAR member expertly navigated us around rock and ice and we were home in time for dinner. I'll get some photos of this up soon.

Christine Island

Here are some shots of OSAR team members, Carla, Jordan, Payot, Anthony and myself on our way to Christine Island for a SAR cache changeout. There are 11 emergency caches, three barrels each, spread around our boating area and beyond. Each year they are retrieved, batteries replaced, food checked, stoves tested and restocked with freshly checked gear. These caches are used infrequently, though offer a tent and enough sleeping bags, water and food for 5 people to survive for 8 days. A few science groups have used them when the weather has turned, but none since I have arrived. Wind is our main worry here. As a rule, no boating happens in wind over 20 knots. As I write this the wind is blowing at a steady 38 knots (44 mph) with gusts at over 50 knots. It is wild. White caps explode and shower off sideways onto shore as the wind rattles everything not tied down.

In the photos below we are surrounded by brash ice, which is ice that has calved off the glacier in our back yard. It can make going pretty slow.

Patches

Patching Zodiacs. If there is there another activity that is as thrilling, I have yet to discover it. The boats here are often put through heaven and hell and it takes more than a little TLC to help them live long and healthy lives. Some of our Zodiacs have been cruising these waters for more than 16 years. They can look like a shot-gun fire of patches on the bottom, but they hold air. And they hold secrets and history.

Here are a few patching photos. As well as the bottom of Z-boat, my favorite of all our Zodiacs.

The boats here are constantly landing on rocky shores. Also, brash and bar ice can puncture the Zodiac skin. Then there is the general chemistry, as the boats freeze and thaw throughout the year. We currently have a mere four boats on the water. The dive boat, OSAR boat, Birder boat and a boat for recreation. The short days and limited water time gives me a chance to get the boats into the boathouse.

Fire and OSAR

Fire Training





















































Ocean Search and Rescue (OSAR) cache changeout and towing

Bustling Days

Things here at Palmer are bustling these days. Turnover of station to the winter crew has everyone in the throes of trainings; Fire Team, OSAR, Fuel Spill response, station protocol and job specific training. Since there are so few people here, everyone has a lot of outside duties such as fire fighting, working at the store, cleaning bathrooms. The list goes on.

The days are getting shorter and the brash ice has been thick and heavy the past few days. The summer folks are abuzz with travel plans and the winter crew is finding their favorite chairs, movie nights and forming relationships. We have been having a lot of Ocean Search and Rescue exercises on the water during the work day so I have tried to take some time in the back yard. The station is situated at the foot of a glacier and hikes up it offer great views as well as a chance to get away from the small universe that contains our daily lives.

Anyone interested in seeing a cool video of our glacier calving click here.

After All

It's Easter Sunday. Some folks made Easter food, but I accidentally missed it. That's a funny thing about living here. When you have only one day off it becomes a struggle to fit things in. I find myself saying things like "I might be able to meet for a game of poker. I have to watch cartoons at ten and then am taking a sauna at noon. Maybe after that, before I play Settlers of Catan, but after I decorate cookies. Oh and I was going to have Bailey's and coffee and play frisbee sometime in there." Ridiculous. It's the end of March and time is a slippery thing. Last night was a coworker's 50th birthday party, which was a hoot. It turns out we went to the same Junior High and High School. We even had some of the same teachers. Amazing how small the world can become. Really not much new is happening that I haven't already mentioned. Here are a few photos, however.

Shorter Days

Nothing really big and profound happening lately. I am in the boathouse now, it's after hours. The boathouse is a great place to hang out, as I have mentioned. I recently got a new monitor that constantly displays the weather and is still a kick to admire.

The Gould arrives in two weeks, bringing a large portion of the winter crew and therefore bumping the population up to 45. I am enjoying the 31 we have now. As our daylight decreases the boating hours get shorter, ending at 6:30pm currently. The days are still jumping with boats, though the after hours have become a bit more mellow. Soon I will be busy in the shop, patching and winterizing the motors.

An unexpected encounter...

This is a short video I was able to take with my little point and shoot camera. It's rough, to say the least, but you'll get the idea. We came upon a pod of four humpback whales, three adults and a baby. We were just drifting, with motors off about 100 ft from them when they decided to come up and see us. They were extremely curious, or angry. It was a bit hard to tell, but I can say that they were really cool and humongous.

Life here at Palmer continues to evolve. We are down to a population of 31 now, as the Gould left with the krillers, riggers and some of the divers. It was sad to see them go, though it feels good to stretch out a bit more. Today I went out with our communications technician to Outcast Island, an island outside of the boating limits, to work on an old Argentine tower. It's abandoned now and a grant is being written to install another wind detector to more accurately make boating decisions. The ocean is much more wild out there than in our protected harbor, with 12 foot swells and curling breaks.

The Rubber Duke

Today I retired the Rubber Duke, which is an enormous platform boat, with a winch and large amount of equipment used for pulling krill out of the water. It is a beefy, gem of a boat and I will miss crawling around it, filling it's air and hoisting it's cranks. Weighing in at over 3200 lbs with a variety of priceless scientific instruments, lifting it from surging ocean to the boathouse deck is an operation fraught with peril, even with our sturdy track vehicle, the Skytrak.


This last week has been a good one, involving all the enjoyable experiences, projects completed and things learned that go into making a good run. Last weekend I had a whale experience that made me remember the immensity of our universe. On Monday, hunting whale with a group on the water, I came across a mom and calf, swimming around, bobbing up and down. Flopping their tails and blowing their holes. They came very close, directly under our boats, spying us.

Today again, out on Hermit Island replacing the SAR cache I noticed a group of two or three whales swimming around a series of shoals. Around me was a mine field of roaring fur seals. Asleep, they look so much like the surrounding rocks I had to be extremely careful not to trod on them. Also, there were penguins, skuas, and my favorite of all the Antarctic birds, the blue-eyed shag.

More photos.

Our population is up to 39 people now with the arrival of 7 more on the Laurence M. Gould research vessel last week. It is tradition to jump off the pier as the Gould chugs away, as a farewell to friends leaving station, northbound to Chile.

The person in green shorts jumping on the left is me. Thankfully Palmer has a hot tub (that's right, a hot tub) and after the swim it is great to head up for a soak in 110F water to restore circulation.