Thursday, 19 December 2024

A Southern Christmas 2001 - Day 4 (still at sea en-route to Casey)

A reminder - if you've never seen this before, please go HERE to read the Introduction and Day 1 - otherwise, read on...

Wednesday 19th December 2001

At sea (57 deg S, 130 deg E)

The weather deteriorated slightly, although we are still getting a relatively smooth passage as we continue our south-westerly course. At noon today, we were about halfway to our destination, nearly 1,000 nautical miles (1,875 km) from Hobart and another 1,000 to go. 

We are now at 57 degrees South latitude and the sea temperature is down to about 3 degrees C, about a degree below the outside air temperature. The wind has swung to the northeast as we skirt around the eastern edge of a huge weather depression to the west of us. The barometer has dropped to 975 HPa and visibility is down to about 250 metres, but we are still making good time at 16 to 17 knots. Here ends the meteorological report.

Today’s training session was on survival. Voyage Leader Greg, a mountaineer and training consultant in his other life, gave us an excellent demonstration on the use of the Bivi Bag which is like a huge sack made from weather-proof material (not waterproof since it never rains in Antarctica). The word "bivi", of course, comes from bivouac, for which we should always be prepared even if only a few tens of metres from camp.

I have previously mentioned the number of scientists on board, and over the last couple of days Yann and I have had the chance to understand what it is that they do and their passion for their specialist fields. For example, John, a zooplankton biologist, has been streaming a Continuous Plankton Recorder (CPR) from the stern of the ship ever since we left Hobart. The CPR catches plankton in a type of Swiss roll material which sits about ten metres below the surface and which slowly but continuously winds itself on as we move south. When it gets to the end of the roll, as it did this morning he collects and counts the plankton and records where it was collected, thus providing a record of plankton abundance between Tasmania and the Antarctic shelf.

Another of the scientists on board this trip is Steve from the University of New England who has been counting the large kelp rafts that drift past the ship. This helps in providing data to determine the potential for the dispersal of kelp-associated organisms. For a long time, scientists have questioned why islands such as Macquarie Island and other sub-Antarctic land masses like Heard Island, although many millions of years different in their ages, and over 5,000 km apart, have similar fauna. Steve’s work, plays a valuable role in providing a better understanding of the importance of that circumpolar currents play in the distribution of organisms across the Southern Ocean. This in turn, of course plays a significant part in contributing to a better understanding our planet’s health.

Tonight we were provided with our rosters for Casey, where, if present conditions prevail, we will arrive mid-afternoon on the December 22, (our Christmas Day). We also learned that King Neptune is due to pay us a visit on Friday afternoon to seek retribution from all those first-timers who have dared to cross the 60th Parallel without his permission. 

It remains to be seen what this holds in store for us. 

Until tomorrow...

Wednesday, 18 December 2024

A Southern Christmas 2001 - Day 3 (still at sea - training day)

 If I may repeat yesterday's comment: please go back and start (HERE) if you have not yet read the introduction to this series - otherwise read on and enjoy, as we get into Day 3 of the great southern adventure...

Tuesday 18th December 2001

At sea

It's a superstition at sea never to talk about how fair the weather is, otherwise the sea gods may take it away. This is just one of many little chestnuts like whistling up the wind (which is either bad luck if it brings bad weather, or good if it brings much needed wind and you're in a sailing ship) and sighting an albatross (which also works both ways).  

Per Hansen, Aurora's archetypal Danish bosun, (more correctly these days, Senior Integrated Rating) reminded me of this when he overheard me saying that the sea could easily be mistaken for the Mediterranean at its best.  Nevertheless, the weather could almost be described as balmy and we are making 17 to 18 knots in a gentle swell and a light westerly breeze which could almost be called a zephyr – and this is at 53 degrees South latitude which is well inside the furious fifties. I’m not going to write any more about the weather today in case Per is right.

We received a message from Antarctic Division today giving us, and all other staff at AAD an update on the voyage schedules of Aurora and one of her sister ships, Polar Bird which is on a supply trip to Mawson. Polar Bird is not an icebreaker, she’s regarded as ice-capable, and she has been stationary in heavy ice conditions in Prydz Bay for about 12 days. Polar Bird is apparently in no danger and is accessible by helicopter, but at the moment she is beset.

If the situation with Polar Bird continues, a decision will be made after our arrival at Casey whether Aurora is to be re-routed to assist. Although there are not yet plans to do this, we are taking advantage of the fair weather (sorry, prevailing weather conditions) to travel at optimum speed to Casey thus providing an opportunity to divert if needed.

Interest in the Ice Sweep is growing, with some pundits wagering that it will be as early as tomorrow night when we see our first berg. Proceeds from the raffle will go to Camp Quality, the charity adopted by the officers and crew of Aurora which provides great benefits and opportunities to under-privileged kids. As I wrote yesterday, the iceberg must be at least as big as the ship, the sighting must be independently verified and under no circumstances are we to bribe the captain or any of the officers to use the radar or alter course in any way. I’m punting for Thursday mid-morning.

Today's training was on clothing and the risk and avoidance measures for hypothermia and frostbite. Although much of this is aimed at the winterers and the researchers who will be working away from the base station, the training is essential for all who travel to the Antarctic and is a reminder that this is not just another trip to the seaside. There is talk of additional training in abseiling down on to the ice from the deck of the ship later on in the voyage as part of crevasse safety training - something to get excited about!

I continue to be in awe of the work done by the scientists on board and their commitment and devotion to the job they are doing in understanding the part this corner of the world plays in the whole global life cycle. Little wonder there is so much enthusiasm in keeping this place pristine and unsullied by humanity's frequent appetite for destructive exploitation.

More tomorrow...

Monday, 16 December 2024

A Southern Christmas 2001 - Day 2 (At sea en-route to the ice)

If you are reading this for the first time and didn't read yesterday's post - Stop! Kindly go back (HERE) and read my introduction and journal entry for Day 1 and then, of course - please come back.

Today's entry was quite short - they get longer as the trip progresses, but not too long, I hope!

 Monday 17th December 2001

At sea

Today a few of us got to understand why Aurora Australis is sometimes unkindly called the “Orange Roughie.” Personally, I was pleased to discover that although it is more than 25 years since my sea-going days, I still seem to have immunity from sea sickness. Sadly, not all my shipmates are as fortunate and there was only a handful of us who turned up at 0730 for breakfast. My colleague and cabin mate, Yann from our waste research establishment in Paris, was one of the casualties with a ruthless case of mal de mer which saw him incapacitated until later that afternoon.  I’m pleased to say that after a couple of pills and a good sleep he joined us all for dinner that evening and was soon feeling and looking much more like his earlier self.

 We are presently about 200 nautical miles southwest of Hobart and travelling at a cracking 16.5 knots having picked up speed the past couple of hours to take advantage of the relatively calm sea. Earlier today the swells were around four to five metres with the ship occasionally pitching dramatically. Later this afternoon it calmed down and the decision was taken to put our foot down a bit to make a little hay while the sun shines, so to speak. If we can keep up this speed, we may well make Casey by December 23.

Today was a day for finding our sea-legs. It was also a good day for establishing communications so Yann and I can keep in touch with Sydney and Paris, and we now have our own satellite antenna sticking out on the deck above the wheelhouse at the end of a broom handle – it works perfectly.

Voyage Leader Greg was one of the early sea-sick casualties, but he was still able to join us from his sick bed later this evening to inform us that we are in for some intense survival training activities over the next few days – something we can all look forward to!

We are also running an Ice Sweep, the object being who of us can most closely predict when we will see our first iceberg. The rules are strict, it must not be a radar siting it must be visual and independently verified, and it must be at least as big as the ship, more on this story later.

To be continued…