So..there's a generator (or three) at Black Island that is in need of repair. I am gearing up to go take care of it. Today, I got to hear someone whine about how they don't get to go because they haven't had happy camper. I'm thinking the guy could have fulfilled the obligations of his contract last year, rather than leaving after six weeks and he could have gotten happy camper then and would be ready to go this year. Also, all these fuckers who complain about not getting to go out can pound sand in their ass. Where are they all at when I'm working on Sunday? Where are they while I'm working past quitting time out in the cold, working through break and eating sack lunch or sometimes not getting lunch at all? Cease the whining boys and take some initiative to do something.
Anyhow, I'll report more on the trip as it progresses
8/26/06
seventh archival post
Season Two: The Adventure.....Repeats
Hi All,
I've found myself once again in Antarctica. The feeling I had as I
got here was one I hadn't expected. The bonds I formed last year have
proven to have lasted during the off season. When I got here, I had
an overwhelming feeling of home. It only makes sense. Since last
February, the longest I've stayed in the same place was three weeks in
Mexico. Even there, I made the occasional side trip. So knowing that
I'll be staying put for six months is kind of nice. The connections
that I made here last year are akin to those that one makes in a
foxhole. Sharing the experience of a harsh continent with a small
group of people really cements a relationship.
Contrary to what some of you may believe, I had not fallen off the
face of the earth. Here's a summary of what I've been doing since
last February:
One week in Tasmania. Gorgeous contemporary small cities, pristine
beaches, stunningly beautiful world heritage rain forests.
One week on the mainland of Australia. Sydney, the Blue Mountains,
Uluru. Friendly people, dramatic coastlines, far too vast and diverse
to explore in a week.
About 30 days skiing and seeing the kids in Jackson Hole. Epic powder
days, party nights
Quick road trip to Whistler, B.C. Stayed a night in a Yurt, had a
wonderful time skiing with Cody and Kegan. Diagnosed with a salivary
gland infection which put a damper on my good times.
Back to Jackson Hole for a few days where I learned that competent
Canadian "Infection" translates into inept American "Cancer"...no
worries, the Canadian diagnoses was the proper one.
Three week surf vacation to Puerto Escondido in Oaxaca (pronounced
wah-ha-ca)Mexico. Monstrous, bone-crushing waves, friendly people,
squalor. Took a side trip to Oaxaca city, saw the amazing ruins of
Monte Alban. Saw the beginning of an uprising in Oaxaca city. Drank
some really good Mezcal. Took a side trip to San Cristobal de las
Casas in Chiapas, Mexico, home of the Zapatista uprising of 1994 and
still the base for an active post-modern revolution.
One month water park tour of 12 western states with Cody & Kegan.
One week of Boy Scout camp with Cody.
One week of school in Denver. It was for work and covered everything
I will need to know about the Cat 950G Series II loader
Three days of school in Reno, NV on the Pisten Bully. It's a ski
groomer type vehicle that we use in Antarctica to transport scientists
around.
That takes me up to when I left again for Antarctica. The journey was
long and agonizing but the reward for dealing with that is that I am
once again in this beautiful and unique place. I intend on
chronicling the journey down in a later email. I am also working on
putting a blog together. I hate those things, but it might work well
for me as I can keep an archive of all the stuff I have written.
That's all I have time for right now. I'll write more later. I hope
this finds all of you doing well. I hope to hear from you all soon.
Later,
Will
Hi All,
I've found myself once again in Antarctica. The feeling I had as I
got here was one I hadn't expected. The bonds I formed last year have
proven to have lasted during the off season. When I got here, I had
an overwhelming feeling of home. It only makes sense. Since last
February, the longest I've stayed in the same place was three weeks in
Mexico. Even there, I made the occasional side trip. So knowing that
I'll be staying put for six months is kind of nice. The connections
that I made here last year are akin to those that one makes in a
foxhole. Sharing the experience of a harsh continent with a small
group of people really cements a relationship.
Contrary to what some of you may believe, I had not fallen off the
face of the earth. Here's a summary of what I've been doing since
last February:
One week in Tasmania. Gorgeous contemporary small cities, pristine
beaches, stunningly beautiful world heritage rain forests.
One week on the mainland of Australia. Sydney, the Blue Mountains,
Uluru. Friendly people, dramatic coastlines, far too vast and diverse
to explore in a week.
About 30 days skiing and seeing the kids in Jackson Hole. Epic powder
days, party nights
Quick road trip to Whistler, B.C. Stayed a night in a Yurt, had a
wonderful time skiing with Cody and Kegan. Diagnosed with a salivary
gland infection which put a damper on my good times.
Back to Jackson Hole for a few days where I learned that competent
Canadian "Infection" translates into inept American "Cancer"...no
worries, the Canadian diagnoses was the proper one.
Three week surf vacation to Puerto Escondido in Oaxaca (pronounced
wah-ha-ca)Mexico. Monstrous, bone-crushing waves, friendly people,
squalor. Took a side trip to Oaxaca city, saw the amazing ruins of
Monte Alban. Saw the beginning of an uprising in Oaxaca city. Drank
some really good Mezcal. Took a side trip to San Cristobal de las
Casas in Chiapas, Mexico, home of the Zapatista uprising of 1994 and
still the base for an active post-modern revolution.
One month water park tour of 12 western states with Cody & Kegan.
One week of Boy Scout camp with Cody.
One week of school in Denver. It was for work and covered everything
I will need to know about the Cat 950G Series II loader
Three days of school in Reno, NV on the Pisten Bully. It's a ski
groomer type vehicle that we use in Antarctica to transport scientists
around.
That takes me up to when I left again for Antarctica. The journey was
long and agonizing but the reward for dealing with that is that I am
once again in this beautiful and unique place. I intend on
chronicling the journey down in a later email. I am also working on
putting a blog together. I hate those things, but it might work well
for me as I can keep an archive of all the stuff I have written.
That's all I have time for right now. I'll write more later. I hope
this finds all of you doing well. I hope to hear from you all soon.
Later,
Will
8/25/06
8/23/06
sixth archival post...The Boondoggle
"I will light the match this morning so I won't be alone."
Pearl Jam – Indifference
A boondoggle is defined locally as any trip off-station. Boondoggles
are highly coveted by the population at McMurdo. We're all here for a
chance to find the Antarctica that we came here to see.
McMurdo station is on Ross Island. It's not on the mainland of
Antarctica. When I was presented with the opportunity to go on a
boondoggle to a station located on the mainland, I jumped at it. My
destination was Marble Point, a remote outpost that provides
logistical support for research on the continent. The generator on
the station was down and my job was to get it running again. My
reward for my efforts was an experience so powerfully spiritual that I
fear my words won't do it justice.
I arrived by helicopter, was greeted by Crunch, the station manager
and briefed on the problems the generator was having. It turned out
to be a relatively simple, albeit time-consuming fix. Long story
short; Will said "Let there be light!" and there was light.
The next day I took full advantage of where I was. I went for a walk.
Shortly after breakfast, I loaded my pockets with various
calorie-laden foods that were available, grabbed a radio and embarked.
I had walked less than 15 minutes when I suddenly felt completely
alone. By alone, I mean it was easy to believe that I was the only
person in the entirety of the universe. The emptiness of Antarctica
enveloped me. I couldn't see, hear, feel, taste or smell any sign of
any living thing other than myself. This is the kind of emptiness and
loneliness that I had only envisioned in one of my favorite childhood
dreams. The only connection I had to the real world, the only thing
that made this experience real, was the song going through my head;
something by Green Day, "…I walk these lonely streets……I walk
alone……"
The destination was Hogback Hill. I had scouted it out on the map. I
pride myself on my map reading and land navigation skills. One of the
things that I have always preached to Cody is to check the information
on the map to see what units of measurement are being used.
Case-in-point I read the hilltop to be 734 feet high, in reality, it
was 734 meters. I was humbled to think that I was that tired climbing
a 700-foot hill. On my ascent, I noticed that it was so quiet that I
could hear my own heartbeat. I heard it! It sounded like when you
listen to an unborn baby's heartbeat through a stethoscope. The only
sign of life was my own heartbeat. Lacking any outside validation,
the beat of my heart was the only proof I had that I was alive, that I
even existed in the otherworldly empty vastness that I was now
surrounded by.
I walked along the base of a glacier. The crunching of snow was like
thousands of microscopic caverns collapsing in a thunderous roar under
the weight of my boots. Like the report of a shotgun, the sounds of
the glacier cracking ripped through the flesh of silence. The
cacophony of dripping water sounded like a shower that the earth was
taking. Chaos theory started to make sense to me when I contemplated
the melting glacier before me. The ice towered above me for hundreds
of feet. The heat of the sun was randomly releasing molecules of
water that had been frozen for countless millennia. Some would
evaporate and blow northward to the ocean, others would refreeze only
to be locked again in ice for countless more millennia. I was there
to witness their re-emergence and their random dissemination.
Something senseless made sense. A landscape devoid of life caused me
to feel more alive than ever.
The hike ended eight hours after it had started. I arrived safely
back at the station. Tired, yet somehow refreshed. Self-aware and
ALIVE! Grateful for the chance to experience what I thought
Antarctica was.
Hi all! It's been a long time since any of you have heard from me.
Nothing much new has been going on aside from my weekend retreat
described above. I did get some new pictures up, mostly from my trip
to Marble Point. There are some of the landscape and some that bring
things to light that nobody probably ever thinks of (read the signs).
The pictures can be found at:
here
kudos to anyone who gets the reference in this picture
(UNLESS is spelled in rocks, in case you can't make it out-my rock
writing sucks almost as much as my handwriting). Something that I had
the privelige of seeing a presentation on tonight was the American
Women's Expedition. Four women set out to ski across the continent.
They abandoned their expedition upon reaching the South Pole, but it
was a remarkable story nonetheless. Here is the best info I could
find on it:
I was impressed. You should be too!
That's about all I have in my world. I hope all of you are doing well.
Later,
Will
Pearl Jam – Indifference
A boondoggle is defined locally as any trip off-station. Boondoggles
are highly coveted by the population at McMurdo. We're all here for a
chance to find the Antarctica that we came here to see.
McMurdo station is on Ross Island. It's not on the mainland of
Antarctica. When I was presented with the opportunity to go on a
boondoggle to a station located on the mainland, I jumped at it. My
destination was Marble Point, a remote outpost that provides
logistical support for research on the continent. The generator on
the station was down and my job was to get it running again. My
reward for my efforts was an experience so powerfully spiritual that I
fear my words won't do it justice.
I arrived by helicopter, was greeted by Crunch, the station manager
and briefed on the problems the generator was having. It turned out
to be a relatively simple, albeit time-consuming fix. Long story
short; Will said "Let there be light!" and there was light.
The next day I took full advantage of where I was. I went for a walk.
Shortly after breakfast, I loaded my pockets with various
calorie-laden foods that were available, grabbed a radio and embarked.
I had walked less than 15 minutes when I suddenly felt completely
alone. By alone, I mean it was easy to believe that I was the only
person in the entirety of the universe. The emptiness of Antarctica
enveloped me. I couldn't see, hear, feel, taste or smell any sign of
any living thing other than myself. This is the kind of emptiness and
loneliness that I had only envisioned in one of my favorite childhood
dreams. The only connection I had to the real world, the only thing
that made this experience real, was the song going through my head;
something by Green Day, "…I walk these lonely streets……I walk
alone……"
The destination was Hogback Hill. I had scouted it out on the map. I
pride myself on my map reading and land navigation skills. One of the
things that I have always preached to Cody is to check the information
on the map to see what units of measurement are being used.
Case-in-point I read the hilltop to be 734 feet high, in reality, it
was 734 meters. I was humbled to think that I was that tired climbing
a 700-foot hill. On my ascent, I noticed that it was so quiet that I
could hear my own heartbeat. I heard it! It sounded like when you
listen to an unborn baby's heartbeat through a stethoscope. The only
sign of life was my own heartbeat. Lacking any outside validation,
the beat of my heart was the only proof I had that I was alive, that I
even existed in the otherworldly empty vastness that I was now
surrounded by.
I walked along the base of a glacier. The crunching of snow was like
thousands of microscopic caverns collapsing in a thunderous roar under
the weight of my boots. Like the report of a shotgun, the sounds of
the glacier cracking ripped through the flesh of silence. The
cacophony of dripping water sounded like a shower that the earth was
taking. Chaos theory started to make sense to me when I contemplated
the melting glacier before me. The ice towered above me for hundreds
of feet. The heat of the sun was randomly releasing molecules of
water that had been frozen for countless millennia. Some would
evaporate and blow northward to the ocean, others would refreeze only
to be locked again in ice for countless more millennia. I was there
to witness their re-emergence and their random dissemination.
Something senseless made sense. A landscape devoid of life caused me
to feel more alive than ever.
The hike ended eight hours after it had started. I arrived safely
back at the station. Tired, yet somehow refreshed. Self-aware and
ALIVE! Grateful for the chance to experience what I thought
Antarctica was.
Hi all! It's been a long time since any of you have heard from me.
Nothing much new has been going on aside from my weekend retreat
described above. I did get some new pictures up, mostly from my trip
to Marble Point. There are some of the landscape and some that bring
things to light that nobody probably ever thinks of (read the signs).
The pictures can be found at:
here
kudos to anyone who gets the reference in this picture
(UNLESS is spelled in rocks, in case you can't make it out-my rock
writing sucks almost as much as my handwriting). Something that I had
the privelige of seeing a presentation on tonight was the American
Women's Expedition. Four women set out to ski across the continent.
They abandoned their expedition upon reaching the South Pole, but it
was a remarkable story nonetheless. Here is the best info I could
find on it:
I was impressed. You should be too!
That's about all I have in my world. I hope all of you are doing well.
Later,
Will
fifth archival post..Survivor: Antarctica
Outdoor Survival School AKA Happy Camper.
There are advantages to camping out in Antarctica. They are:
1) The outhouse doesn't stink.
2) There are no bears.
3) There are no rodents.
4) If you forget your insect repellent, no worries!
Other than that, I wouldn't recommend the experience unless you wish
to gain a new yardstick by which to measure future misery. The number
I have to quantify my own suffering is –43 degrees Fahrenheit. 10
other people and I spent the night out in that extreme of a
temperature without the benefit of external heat sources. We all made
it mostly unscathed. My experience caused me to abandon 4 of my 5
senses. The only thing one knows in these conditions is cold.
Nothing else matters. One must reach deep to find the fortitude with
which to simply ignore the pain and force oneself to do what must be
done to generate heat.
The training course started off, benignly enough, with classroom
discussion on cold weather injuries and their prevention/treatment,
then moved to the operation of cook-stoves and various shelters that
one may encounter on the frozen continent. We then went afield, were
dropped off with some tents and tools and built camp. By the time the
tents were up and the protective wall was built, the sun just began to
dip behind the ridge to our north. Then it was time for me to
discover what NASA has known for quite some time. O-rings have a
propensity to fail in extreme cold conditions. One of the cook-stoves
that my tent-mate and I were using sprang a leak, spraying pressurized
fuel directly into its own flame. Not being one to think of fire as
friendly, I was mildly annoyed by this. The problem was complicated
by not having an effective means to extinguish a fire. Water was
available, but thanks to Joseph Hazelwood of the Exxon Valdez, I know
what petroleum products do on water, so I thought better of trying to
build a scale model of Prince William Sound amidst the conflagration.
The next logical method would be to smother the fire, but at the
behest of the course instructors, I had only brought clothing of
modern synthetic fabrics. The mantra goes something like "Cotton
kills." In this case cotton sure would have been a lifesaver. Then I
noticed my wool socks lying in a heap on the floor. I tried my best
to put out the fire with them, but they just weren't big enough. At
about that time, I remembered that I had brought a wool blanket with
me. I pulled it out of the bag and did my best to wrap the flaming
stove up in it. I heard my tent-mate returning. Very calmly I asked
him to hold the door to the tent open. I explained that we had a
minor disaster and I needed to dispose of it before it became
unmanageable. Not knowing what to expect, he did as I requested only
to be rudely met by a ball of flame masquerading as a wool blanket.
His reaction was rather lewd but we succeeded in averting a
large-scale disaster.
The remainder of the night was mostly uneventful, albeit very cold.
As has become the norm when I camp out, my feet were cold all night,
preventing me from getting much sleep at all, but considering the
temperature, I did relatively well. My results were in-line with
those of my peers so I declared a victory on that front. The point of
the night out was to survive, not necessarily to be comfortable.
Getting out of my sleeping bag was the hardest thing that I did during
the entire ordeal. Going from being relatively warm to excruciatingly
painfully cold was very difficult. Forcing my feet into frozen,
rock-solid boots was pure torture. I spent about 30 minutes just
walking around to try to generate body heat. Eventually the activity
worked. We broke camp and returned to McMurdo in time for lunch. I
did suffer minor frostbite on the tip of my nose and the very tips of
two fingers on my right hand. The investment I made in physical
suffering will pay psychological dividends in knowing I can endure in
horribly adverse conditions. I am thankful for the newfound respect
that I have for the explorers of the heroic age who endured these
conditions for what must have seemed like forever.
My camera didn't work for very long in the cold. I did get a couple
of pictures. I'll get them up soon.
Have a great day everyone!
Will
There are advantages to camping out in Antarctica. They are:
1) The outhouse doesn't stink.
2) There are no bears.
3) There are no rodents.
4) If you forget your insect repellent, no worries!
Other than that, I wouldn't recommend the experience unless you wish
to gain a new yardstick by which to measure future misery. The number
I have to quantify my own suffering is –43 degrees Fahrenheit. 10
other people and I spent the night out in that extreme of a
temperature without the benefit of external heat sources. We all made
it mostly unscathed. My experience caused me to abandon 4 of my 5
senses. The only thing one knows in these conditions is cold.
Nothing else matters. One must reach deep to find the fortitude with
which to simply ignore the pain and force oneself to do what must be
done to generate heat.
The training course started off, benignly enough, with classroom
discussion on cold weather injuries and their prevention/treatment,
then moved to the operation of cook-stoves and various shelters that
one may encounter on the frozen continent. We then went afield, were
dropped off with some tents and tools and built camp. By the time the
tents were up and the protective wall was built, the sun just began to
dip behind the ridge to our north. Then it was time for me to
discover what NASA has known for quite some time. O-rings have a
propensity to fail in extreme cold conditions. One of the cook-stoves
that my tent-mate and I were using sprang a leak, spraying pressurized
fuel directly into its own flame. Not being one to think of fire as
friendly, I was mildly annoyed by this. The problem was complicated
by not having an effective means to extinguish a fire. Water was
available, but thanks to Joseph Hazelwood of the Exxon Valdez, I know
what petroleum products do on water, so I thought better of trying to
build a scale model of Prince William Sound amidst the conflagration.
The next logical method would be to smother the fire, but at the
behest of the course instructors, I had only brought clothing of
modern synthetic fabrics. The mantra goes something like "Cotton
kills." In this case cotton sure would have been a lifesaver. Then I
noticed my wool socks lying in a heap on the floor. I tried my best
to put out the fire with them, but they just weren't big enough. At
about that time, I remembered that I had brought a wool blanket with
me. I pulled it out of the bag and did my best to wrap the flaming
stove up in it. I heard my tent-mate returning. Very calmly I asked
him to hold the door to the tent open. I explained that we had a
minor disaster and I needed to dispose of it before it became
unmanageable. Not knowing what to expect, he did as I requested only
to be rudely met by a ball of flame masquerading as a wool blanket.
His reaction was rather lewd but we succeeded in averting a
large-scale disaster.
The remainder of the night was mostly uneventful, albeit very cold.
As has become the norm when I camp out, my feet were cold all night,
preventing me from getting much sleep at all, but considering the
temperature, I did relatively well. My results were in-line with
those of my peers so I declared a victory on that front. The point of
the night out was to survive, not necessarily to be comfortable.
Getting out of my sleeping bag was the hardest thing that I did during
the entire ordeal. Going from being relatively warm to excruciatingly
painfully cold was very difficult. Forcing my feet into frozen,
rock-solid boots was pure torture. I spent about 30 minutes just
walking around to try to generate body heat. Eventually the activity
worked. We broke camp and returned to McMurdo in time for lunch. I
did suffer minor frostbite on the tip of my nose and the very tips of
two fingers on my right hand. The investment I made in physical
suffering will pay psychological dividends in knowing I can endure in
horribly adverse conditions. I am thankful for the newfound respect
that I have for the explorers of the heroic age who endured these
conditions for what must have seemed like forever.
My camera didn't work for very long in the cold. I did get a couple
of pictures. I'll get them up soon.
Have a great day everyone!
Will
fourth archival posting...Antarctic Shenanigans
Hi all,
first, new pictures can be found at
here
there are some of the shop I work in, some of the wild equipement that
I work on and a few of our bowling party.
Over the past couple of weeks, not alot new has happened. The
recreational opportunities here prove to be widely varied and always
interesting. Last Wednesday there was an 'open mic night' at the
coffehouse (It's really a wine bar that serves coffee as an aside).
The event was definitely entertaining. Kyle sung songs about
hermaphrodites, gerbil in your butt, and a drunken friend groping him
inappropriately, basically, he made lyrical mincemeat from sacred
cows.
Last Thursday I saw the sun for the first time since I got here. We
have had daylight every day, but McMurdo is nestled behind some hills
so this was the first time I had actually seen the sun. The periods
of daylight are getting longer and longer. I'm becoming concerned how
my sleep will be effected once the sun is up 24 hours per day. Since
I got here, I have been sleeping better than I have in several years
and I attribute that mostly to the darkness.
Since it had been several years since I've worked as a mechanic, I
forgot how nice it is to hear phrases such as "Your nuts are in my
hand" from another male, and for that to be totally ok in the context
of being a mechanic. I'm starting to get used to taking all day to do
a task that would normally take about 20 minutes. For example, to go
air up a flat tire, one has to have an air compressor, but since it
has sat outside in the cold, it needs to be warmed up prior to
starting it. This involves starting a Herman Nelson heater. Now, of
course, the last person to use it left it out of fuel so you have to
go to the fuel pump to get fuel. So..you finally get the heater
started, it takes 15 minutes of heat on the air compressor to start
it. The heater gets left on because the flat tire also has to be
heated before it will take air. On a big piece of equipment this
process can take 30 minutes before you can even start pumping air into
it, during which time the unloader on the air compressor has frozen,
rendering it inoperable..and on it goes..thus, at the end of the day,
when you see the loader you worked all day on to get air in the tire
out working, you can actually go home with a sense of pride for taking
all day to do it, and that nagging feeling like you forgot
something..like putting fuel in the heater. Such is a day in the life
of an Antarctic mechanic.
It's time for me to go. I hope this finds all of you in good health.
I look forward to hearing from any of you who have time to send a
quick note.
Later,
Will
first, new pictures can be found at
here
there are some of the shop I work in, some of the wild equipement that
I work on and a few of our bowling party.
Over the past couple of weeks, not alot new has happened. The
recreational opportunities here prove to be widely varied and always
interesting. Last Wednesday there was an 'open mic night' at the
coffehouse (It's really a wine bar that serves coffee as an aside).
The event was definitely entertaining. Kyle sung songs about
hermaphrodites, gerbil in your butt, and a drunken friend groping him
inappropriately, basically, he made lyrical mincemeat from sacred
cows.
Last Thursday I saw the sun for the first time since I got here. We
have had daylight every day, but McMurdo is nestled behind some hills
so this was the first time I had actually seen the sun. The periods
of daylight are getting longer and longer. I'm becoming concerned how
my sleep will be effected once the sun is up 24 hours per day. Since
I got here, I have been sleeping better than I have in several years
and I attribute that mostly to the darkness.
Since it had been several years since I've worked as a mechanic, I
forgot how nice it is to hear phrases such as "Your nuts are in my
hand" from another male, and for that to be totally ok in the context
of being a mechanic. I'm starting to get used to taking all day to do
a task that would normally take about 20 minutes. For example, to go
air up a flat tire, one has to have an air compressor, but since it
has sat outside in the cold, it needs to be warmed up prior to
starting it. This involves starting a Herman Nelson heater. Now, of
course, the last person to use it left it out of fuel so you have to
go to the fuel pump to get fuel. So..you finally get the heater
started, it takes 15 minutes of heat on the air compressor to start
it. The heater gets left on because the flat tire also has to be
heated before it will take air. On a big piece of equipment this
process can take 30 minutes before you can even start pumping air into
it, during which time the unloader on the air compressor has frozen,
rendering it inoperable..and on it goes..thus, at the end of the day,
when you see the loader you worked all day on to get air in the tire
out working, you can actually go home with a sense of pride for taking
all day to do it, and that nagging feeling like you forgot
something..like putting fuel in the heater. Such is a day in the life
of an Antarctic mechanic.
It's time for me to go. I hope this finds all of you in good health.
I look forward to hearing from any of you who have time to send a
quick note.
Later,
Will
third archival email
Hi all,
A few updates since my last email, just to let you all know what's
going on and to answer a few questions that I have gotten from some of
you.
first, new photos can be found at
here
there are some aurora australias (southern lights), some of the
sunrise/sunset (there really is no differentiation between the two,
just a few hours of pink in the sky and then dark again) and some
other interesting stuff from my first few days here. 'Ivan' the
terrabus is what I rode in from the airfield to the station. I
thought it was pretty cool. The aircraft pictures are all of C-17
globemasters, which is what I had the privelige of riding on. Much
better than a C-141. There's also one of a firetruck outfitted with
'mattracks'. They don't work any better here than they did in
Yellowstone or other places, but....they still use them. Keeps
mechanics employed I 'spose.
FRESHIES!!!
due to the fact that I'm near the end of the longest logistical chain
in the world, and things don't grow to well here, fresh
fruits/vegetables/eggs are a rare treat. They come in on the plane
when it comes. I came during a period called WINFLY. It's a term,
borrowed from the military, which is a bastardization of winter fly
in. Basically I am part of a skeleton crew who is here to get things
ready for "main body" which happens in October. I didn't realize it,
but the last plane came in last friday and then left, basically
isolating me from the rest of the world. No mail, no way
out...nothing, except a few fresh greens that will be eaten soon, then
nothing until October.
Gear issue:
Extreme Cold Weather (ECW) gear was issued in Christchurch N.Z. on the
way down. There is lots of stuff available, but a visual of the basic
issue is here:
the first hallmark item is what we call "big red" Its a thick, heavy,
down jacket. the specifics can be found here for all my gear junkie
friends here
it is a pretty nice parka, very cozy.
also included in the issue are "mickey mouse" boots (standard G.I. ECW
boots), expedition weight poly-pro undergarments, Wigwam heavy wool
socks, polar fleece jacket, balaclava, stocking cap, a vast
assortment of gloves and mittens, goggles, sunglasses, insulated wind
pants, insulated carharrt bib overalls, carharrt jacket, julbo
sunglasses.
I have moved to a different room so I don't have to share with the
Andrew the cross-dresser and his girlfriend.
The water in the toilet/sink/whatever doesn't spin any differently in
the southern hemisphere than in the northern. That was all just an
urban legend, and I'm pissed about it! The legend is based on the
coriolis effect..if you're bored and wanna read up on in it..here ya
go
There have been some scientific questions thrown my way, currently,
there are no science lectures being presented so I am unable to ask
questions, but they will start in October and I intend on going and
asking. I want to learn as much as I can while I'm here.
We run on New Zealand Standard Time, which is 18 hours ahead of
Mountain DST. Currently we only get a few hours of light each day but
soon it will be light all the time so time really isn't relevant.
No special shots were required to come here (except tetanus). There
isn't a problem with malaria, etc. No mosquitos to spread it I guess.
Day to day life is pretty 'normal'. My schedule just changed a bit, I
will be working five 11 hour days and then get 2 days off. I'm not
sure what I will do with myself for two days, but I guess I will
figure it out. The job itself isn't too unlike any other job, just
that it's in Antarctica. The commute is the worst of it. I walk 3
minutes, uphill, into the most brutal headwind you could possibly
imagine. Some days the wind chill has been -80 degrees. It's
painfully cold. I work both inside and outside. Outside work really
isn't that bad. Over the years people have engineered ways to keep
the misery to a minimum. Inside work is actually worse. Bringing a
frozen piece of equipment into the shop and then crawling under it to
fix it usually results in getting a shower of ice cold greasy water.
Food is still good. The kitchen does an amazing job given their
limited resources and the demands of institutional style cooking.
Well...that's about it for now. Keep those emails coming folks! It
gives me something to do.
Later,
Will
A few updates since my last email, just to let you all know what's
going on and to answer a few questions that I have gotten from some of
you.
first, new photos can be found at
here
there are some aurora australias (southern lights), some of the
sunrise/sunset (there really is no differentiation between the two,
just a few hours of pink in the sky and then dark again) and some
other interesting stuff from my first few days here. 'Ivan' the
terrabus is what I rode in from the airfield to the station. I
thought it was pretty cool. The aircraft pictures are all of C-17
globemasters, which is what I had the privelige of riding on. Much
better than a C-141. There's also one of a firetruck outfitted with
'mattracks'. They don't work any better here than they did in
Yellowstone or other places, but....they still use them. Keeps
mechanics employed I 'spose.
FRESHIES!!!
due to the fact that I'm near the end of the longest logistical chain
in the world, and things don't grow to well here, fresh
fruits/vegetables/eggs are a rare treat. They come in on the plane
when it comes. I came during a period called WINFLY. It's a term,
borrowed from the military, which is a bastardization of winter fly
in. Basically I am part of a skeleton crew who is here to get things
ready for "main body" which happens in October. I didn't realize it,
but the last plane came in last friday and then left, basically
isolating me from the rest of the world. No mail, no way
out...nothing, except a few fresh greens that will be eaten soon, then
nothing until October.
Gear issue:
Extreme Cold Weather (ECW) gear was issued in Christchurch N.Z. on the
way down. There is lots of stuff available, but a visual of the basic
issue is here:
the first hallmark item is what we call "big red" Its a thick, heavy,
down jacket. the specifics can be found here for all my gear junkie
friends here
it is a pretty nice parka, very cozy.
also included in the issue are "mickey mouse" boots (standard G.I. ECW
boots), expedition weight poly-pro undergarments, Wigwam heavy wool
socks, polar fleece jacket, balaclava, stocking cap, a vast
assortment of gloves and mittens, goggles, sunglasses, insulated wind
pants, insulated carharrt bib overalls, carharrt jacket, julbo
sunglasses.
I have moved to a different room so I don't have to share with the
Andrew the cross-dresser and his girlfriend.
The water in the toilet/sink/whatever doesn't spin any differently in
the southern hemisphere than in the northern. That was all just an
urban legend, and I'm pissed about it! The legend is based on the
coriolis effect..if you're bored and wanna read up on in it..here ya
go
There have been some scientific questions thrown my way, currently,
there are no science lectures being presented so I am unable to ask
questions, but they will start in October and I intend on going and
asking. I want to learn as much as I can while I'm here.
We run on New Zealand Standard Time, which is 18 hours ahead of
Mountain DST. Currently we only get a few hours of light each day but
soon it will be light all the time so time really isn't relevant.
No special shots were required to come here (except tetanus). There
isn't a problem with malaria, etc. No mosquitos to spread it I guess.
Day to day life is pretty 'normal'. My schedule just changed a bit, I
will be working five 11 hour days and then get 2 days off. I'm not
sure what I will do with myself for two days, but I guess I will
figure it out. The job itself isn't too unlike any other job, just
that it's in Antarctica. The commute is the worst of it. I walk 3
minutes, uphill, into the most brutal headwind you could possibly
imagine. Some days the wind chill has been -80 degrees. It's
painfully cold. I work both inside and outside. Outside work really
isn't that bad. Over the years people have engineered ways to keep
the misery to a minimum. Inside work is actually worse. Bringing a
frozen piece of equipment into the shop and then crawling under it to
fix it usually results in getting a shower of ice cold greasy water.
Food is still good. The kitchen does an amazing job given their
limited resources and the demands of institutional style cooking.
Well...that's about it for now. Keep those emails coming folks! It
gives me something to do.
Later,
Will
Second archival posting
Hi All,
Alot of you have inquired as to how the deal with my roomate and
women's shoes turned out. Here's the scoop, the guy who the housing
department had paired me up with had moved his girlfriend into his
room with him without notifying the housing department, so when he
came home to find me moving in, he was quite shocked, but we had a
good laugh about it when I mentioned that I was concerned about who
might wear the shoes. He works in the shop with me, so his new
nickname is now 'Andrew the cross dresser'
Some of you weren't able to view the pics I sent, some apparently have
file size limits on your inbox, I won't be attaching any more pics in
emails, rather, they will be posted to a yahoo photo album. The two I
sent last time can be found at:
here
I'll let everyone know when new pics are posted.
So, most of what I've been doing so far has been safety type training.
The normal boring crap that one would expect. That and heaps of
paperwork. I have most of that behind me and had a mostly full day of
work today. I worked outside most of the day getting two pieces of
equipment started. It was a balmy -14 with a windchill of about
-40...not too bad by Antarctic standards, but pretty freakin'
miserable still. Getting something started in those conditions is
pretty tough. All of the shop service trucks are equipped with Herman
Nelson heaters (The military style forced air type), so you put the
heater hose in the engine compartment, put tarps around to hold the
heat and wait for everything to heat up enough to start...Not too
tough, it just takes along time to get anything done. My gear seems
to be decent enough at keeping me warm, no complaints there.
I live in the same building that has the dining hall and the beer
store, life is good! The aerobics gym is a short walk from where I
live, I've been getting there in the mornings.
The food is excellent. We've had things like salmon/spinach salad,
mediterranean cous-cous, pad thai, pork stir-fry, and many other good
meals. There's even an ice-cream machine of all things. The tool
room at the shop has thermoses, so if you have to go out, you can take
coffee or other hot items with you. All in all, I'm pretty happy so
far.
If anything exciting happens, I'll make sure to send a mass email out.
Until then, Later all. I hope you're all staying warm!
Will
Alot of you have inquired as to how the deal with my roomate and
women's shoes turned out. Here's the scoop, the guy who the housing
department had paired me up with had moved his girlfriend into his
room with him without notifying the housing department, so when he
came home to find me moving in, he was quite shocked, but we had a
good laugh about it when I mentioned that I was concerned about who
might wear the shoes. He works in the shop with me, so his new
nickname is now 'Andrew the cross dresser'
Some of you weren't able to view the pics I sent, some apparently have
file size limits on your inbox, I won't be attaching any more pics in
emails, rather, they will be posted to a yahoo photo album. The two I
sent last time can be found at:
here
I'll let everyone know when new pics are posted.
So, most of what I've been doing so far has been safety type training.
The normal boring crap that one would expect. That and heaps of
paperwork. I have most of that behind me and had a mostly full day of
work today. I worked outside most of the day getting two pieces of
equipment started. It was a balmy -14 with a windchill of about
-40...not too bad by Antarctic standards, but pretty freakin'
miserable still. Getting something started in those conditions is
pretty tough. All of the shop service trucks are equipped with Herman
Nelson heaters (The military style forced air type), so you put the
heater hose in the engine compartment, put tarps around to hold the
heat and wait for everything to heat up enough to start...Not too
tough, it just takes along time to get anything done. My gear seems
to be decent enough at keeping me warm, no complaints there.
I live in the same building that has the dining hall and the beer
store, life is good! The aerobics gym is a short walk from where I
live, I've been getting there in the mornings.
The food is excellent. We've had things like salmon/spinach salad,
mediterranean cous-cous, pad thai, pork stir-fry, and many other good
meals. There's even an ice-cream machine of all things. The tool
room at the shop has thermoses, so if you have to go out, you can take
coffee or other hot items with you. All in all, I'm pretty happy so
far.
If anything exciting happens, I'll make sure to send a mass email out.
Until then, Later all. I hope you're all staying warm!
Will
1st archival post
I'm putting together some archives of emails I sent out from my very first season in Antarctica. Here's the first email I sent out after getting to "the ice"
I'm safely in Antarctica after a long day.
I haven't met my roomate yet, but it would appear that there are
women's shoes in my room...? Did someone make a mistake or did I just
encounter good fortune? Do I live with a TV?
More later, I need a shower and rest...
Will
I haven't met my roomate yet, but it would appear that there are
women's shoes in my room...? Did someone make a mistake or did I just
encounter good fortune? Do I live with a TV?
More later, I need a shower and rest...
Will
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