Antarctic Hello

McMurdo Station sits nestled on the southern coast of a volcanic island. A frozen coast, embedded forever in the grip of the Ross Ice Shelf. In the middle of all that ice, molten lava bubbles and spits, and 200,000 penguins lay fragile eggs that can't possibly hatch, but do. This strange place is where my story begins and ends.

I am an Electrician Apprentice, working for RPSC (Raytheon Polar Services Company). Our contract for the National Science Foundation is to convert McMurdo Station's water plant into a backup power plant. As of now, there is no backup for either of these buildings. Should one of them blow away in a winter storm, everyone here would be lost. We're here to fix that.

So please read on, enjoy the pictures, and stay warm. . .

ANTARCTIC HELLO (1st email home, Feb. 10th, 2005)

Things have been hectic at the bottom of the world, and it's taken me awhile to sit down and write.

These words have escaped Antarctica from nearby Black Island. The transmitting station there is our one and only link to the outside world, some 45 miles across the cracked surface of the Ross Sea. Our satellite, LES-9, rises just 3 degrees above the horizon, but that's enough for this trickle of words to reach you.

McMurdo Station is the largest, um, station down here. It's not much to look at, a cross between a navy base and a mining town; navy-built corrugated buildings, dirt roads swept by volcanic ash. There are no actual towns, paved roads, or runways on the continent. MacTown is as sophisticated as it gets. The station sits by McMurdo Sound, a large, frozen bay currently speckled with seals. Across the sound, glaciers run to the sea from the Royal Society Range, part of the trans-Antarctic mountains that divide Antarctica into East and West. Those mountains are over sixty miles distant, but appear to be much closer. In Antarctica, everything is further than it looks.

Ross Island (click on the picture) has always been the gateway to Antarctica. Partly free of ice (Antarctica being 98% ice-covered), Ross Island is the furthest south a ship can EVER get. Scott and Shackleton both used Ross Island for their base camps. Some of their huts from the turn of the century are still standing - wooden planks frozen solid, plates resting on tables. (Pictures once I get there.)

The trip here was looooong but fun. I crossed the Pacific at night, but the sunrise from the plane was incredible. February 1st never happened, we crossed over the international date line and jumped to February 2nd. Two days spent in Christchurch, New Zealand gave me just enough time to replace my digital camera (which turned up missing) and to discover the joys of the "Kiwi Burger", a weird hamburger with fried eggs and beats on it.

We all met at the USAP center at 5:00AM, February 4th for an AirForce flight to McMurdo. Our plane became a small piece of history, the last LC141 to fly to Antarctica. Local reporters crowded us and took our pictures for the Auckland news. The flight itself was uncomfortable in too many ways to describe. Thank God we reached McMurdo on our first attempt. The week before, planes kept turning back due to dangerous weather. All told, it took 6 flights for me to reach Antarctica.

5 hours into the flight, I squeezed past (stepped on, really) a couple of scientists so I could take this picture through the only window, a tiny porthole on the starboard side:

SOMEWHERE OVER ANTARCTICA
We landed hard on the Ross Ice Shelf, a permanent ice shelf hundreds of feet thick. Ross Island is embedded in this ice, but rises 12,500 feet above it thanks to Mt. Erebus, our friendly neighborhood volcano. It was the first thing I saw after ducking my head through the plane's hatch. It smokes constantly, but I haven't seen it since that first day. The volcano lies just out of sight beyond a nearby ridge. The thirty minute ride to the station was over a white sheet of sea ice that glistened and sparkled in the sunlight. It's painfully bright down here.

MY FIRST SIGHT (much better in person)

Working outside isn't too bad right now. Remember, this is the warmest time of year. The sun won't set for the first time until March 22nd. After that, it will get stupidly cold.

I worked outside today for nine hours staking out locations for the new switch gear. Working all day in 15 degrees (and strong winds) may seem mild for Antarctica, but it was cold enough. I currently have a fever of 102º and must stay in bed again tomorrow. The doc says my lungs are "hyper-expanded". At the clinic, they wrapped me in hot wool blankets after taking my temperature. That felt really, really, really, really great:)

My second day here I climbed nearby Observation Hill (Ob Hill). It had snowed, obscuring the path, so I cut my own way up a steep slope. The climb up the cinder cone took about 3 hours, loose lava rocks making my new boots look 20 years old. It was an amazing experience as I realized that for the first time in my life I was probably walking where no human being had ever stepped before. It's gonna be hard here, damn hard, but I'm glad I came.

There's just too much to write about. I'll stop for now. Expect penguin pictures next time.

Already homesick,
Mike

MIKE SCALING OB HILL (Hand-held photo)
UNITED STATES ANTARCTIC PROGRAM

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