Sunday, 22 December 2024

A Southern Christmas 2001 - Day 8

 It is a pleasant surprise to see how many people have been reading these little posts. The last time I looked at the data, it showed that there have been more than 200 views and the number continues to grow and since one or two folk have asked me to keep going, I will. I require little encouragement.

As I state at the introduction to each day's entry, please start (HERE), if this is the first time you have visited this site.

The last entry of my journal had us arriving in Casey base, so as many a schoolboy saga would say, now read on… 

 

Sunday 23rd December 2001

Casey Base, Australian Antarctic Territory

Finally, we are here, and nature has provided us with another bonzer day. If this is Antarctica, move over Gold Coast. The sun shone from a cloudless sky, with hardly a breath of wind all day - what was Scott’s problem?

A sobering moment came later today when we heard the three-day forecast. In short, make the most of this, the blizzard is due within the next couple of days.

Shortly before breakfast we dropped anchor in Newcomb Bay about a kilometre offshore from the characteristic red, orange, green and blue sheds which we had seen on so many photographs and films featuring Casey. The Base is just over 30 years old, having been established in 1969 when Wilkes, on the opposite side of the bay, was closed because of snow accumulation and poor site selection - but more on Wilkes later.

The Casey Station Leader is Paul Cullen. He has spent the past 13 months here and like almost all the fifty or so people on station, he will be returning to Hobart with us. Paul came on board and warmly welcomed us to the Antarctic continent. We had earlier all received an email explaining the rules of the Station, but it was clear from Paul’s personal address that his mission, before he leaves this place is to ensure that we all accomplish what we have set out to achieve by coming here.

Yann and I were on one of the first boats ashore and a small group of us were soon carefully descending a rope ladder from the ship’s side on to a barge and into waiting inflatable rubber boats (IRBs), also known as Zodiacs. We were to become better acquainted with those little IRBS over the next 24 hours.

We set foot at the busy landing wharf area which looks just like any working construction site that you might see anywhere in the world. Here we became acquainted with another form of transport with which we were to become familiar during our stay – the Hägglunds. The Hagg as it is more simply known, is a tracked all-terrain diesel-powered vehicle with an enclosed cabin connected to a tracked trailer cabin. The Hagg and the quad motorcycles have long since replaced dogs and sleds as the means of transport around Antarctic bases and all Antarcticans are appreciative of its value and reliability. Paul Cullen was our driver, and we were driven the half kilometre or so, up the hill through a narrow laneway of packed ice and snow to the heart of Casey, the Red Shed.

This is the home of the Caseyites – a two-story, steel-clad red building which houses the dining room, kitchen, lounge and bar of Casey and accommodates most of its winter and summer expeditioners. It is also the home of the library and the cinema (the Odeon) and is the place of congregation for all. Although modest and unprepossessing in outside appearance it provides a warm, lodge type atmosphere once inside. We stamped our way through the double entry doors, shaking packed snow from our feet as we walked in. Our heavy sheepskin lined Sorel boots and windproof Ventile outer garments were removed and left close to the exit door where we signed the fireboard, a critical requirement for everyone entering or leaving the Red Shed. This is how our hosts know who is in or out and where we are (particularly visitors); all of which is important in an environment where fire and blizzard will not forgive the careless.

Our mission today was to visit Wilkes station and after a welcoming cup of coffee and a quick lunch, we made our way to the stores shed to get survival packs needed for our short trip to Wilkes. All travellers who go off station must take a survival pack – even an hour’s journey could, in the case of an unexpected snowstorm require an overnight stay in poor conditions. The pack contains sleeping bag, bivi bag, essential rations and first aid kit.

Our host was Dr Martin Riddle, Program Director for Human Impact Studies at AAD and who has been in Casey for the summer. Martin is a marine biologist and is responsible for much of the work which is carried out at the Antarctica bases and surrounding waters. He is thus greatly involved in the work associated with the waste clean-up at Casey’s Thala Valley site and at Wilkes.

Wilkes Station was formally a US base, established in the International Geo-physical Year of 1957. It was handed over to Australia in 1959 who operated the station until the late 1960s after which the replacement site at Casey came into operation as Wilkes slowly became buried under its accumulation of snow and ice. The station is directly opposite Casey on the other side of the bay, about an hour’s Hagg ride away. Both stations are clearly visible from Aurora as she sits easily at anchor in the middle of the bay.

The clean-up at Casey’s Thala Valley site with its 3,000 tonnes of waste and contaminated soil which will be removed over the next three or four years via our donated purpose-built bins is a test for the ultimate clean-up at Wilkes. Wilkes has ten times more waste than there is at Casey and the landscape from one end to the other at

Wilkes is strewn with discarded fuel drums (some empty, some full), tin cans, containers, buildings and gas cylinders. It is only by using the information learned from the Thala Valley clean-up that a clean-up at Wilkes can be planned and executed.

There are at least 3,000 two hundred litre (44 gallon) drums at Wilkes which at one time contained diesel or fuel oil. Wilkes is a land-based Marie Celeste literally frozen in time, with stores and provision abandoned without prospect or expectation of recovery. Boxes strewn around the area contain antique tins of Golden Circle fruit salad, Holbrook’s sauce, and other unmistakably Australian provisions. Although we didn’t see any use by dates, all the products were marked in pounds and ounces, with many familiar names from the past such as Vesta soap.

Quite clearly, it is not just a simple case of marching in and picking the stuff up. The risk to the environment that wholesale collection of materials will cause has to be assessed, hence the requirement to understand the outcome of the Thala Valley process. Equally there are items where further delay will certainly cause damage as old cans of powder slowly rust away and are in danger of creating a condition where there will be nothing to collect but scraps of iron oxide and whatever was in these cans whether it is soap, caustic or worse will be absorbed into the environment. The risk with the oil drums is even more unambiguous. Leave them and they will surely and eventually deposit their crud on the landscape; disturb them without care, and it will happen anyway.

It could be argued that the Antarctic continent is vast and that the amount of pollution caused by human impact is minimal. However, when one considers that these bases are situated on one of the few partially ice-free areas on the continent, representing less than one-tenth of one percent of the land mass, and that this is the very reason why much of the flora and fauna need access to this region to breed and survive, then the argument becomes more difficult to sustain.

AAD and the Australian government are to be applauded for their efforts in developing an ambitious program to meet their Madrid Protocol commitments and for the first time Yann and I were able to fully understand the enormity of the task which Martin Riddle, Tony Press, Kim Pitt and the team at Kingston and Casey are facing. I’m so pleased that we can help in making this program happen.

As we walked through Wilkes on what was really a magnificent summer’s day in this ice paradise an occasional lone Adelie penguin would approach us, and cocking its head to one side and peering at us through a single eye, would curiously but fearlessly assess us. The penguins seem as interested in we creatures who, like them, walk upright and pose no immediate threat, as we are in them. Let’s hope they are right, and it stays that way.





A Southern Christmas 2001 - Day 7

Well, here we are dear reader, a week into my self-indulgent trip down memory lane. I hope you are still with me.  If this is your first visit to this site - please go back to Day 1 (HERE) and rejoin us when you have caught up. 

Christmas Day at sea - let's get into it...


Saturday 22nd December 2001 (Aurora’s Christmas Day)

at sea (66 Deg S, 110 Deg E)

Early tomorrow morning we arrive at Casey and work will start straight away on the jobs of getting fuel ashore to the Station and commencing cargo operations. December 25 will be just like any other working day, with too much work going on for anyone to take more than just a moment to celebrate the day. So we celebrated Christmas Day today, December 22 while we are still about 60 or so miles from Casey Base. For the same reason, a similar event was taking place in Casey as like us they celebrated early in anticipation of the work to come over the next few days.

The day began quietly with Aurora proceeding on her way through sea ice with an occasional iceberg drifting past on one or the other side of us. As the name suggests, sea ice is formed from frozen sea. It is generally about a metre thick, but this varies as the ice is formed and floes drift together. Icebergs on the other hand, originate from land ice. To this we can add all the variations such as growlers and bergy-bits, but more on this later.

Later in the morning, we gathered in the Mess Room to receive a briefing about the day and to listen to some of the things that our expeditioners plan to do during the week we’ll be at Casey. Mark told us about the team of three glaciologists who are travelling with him to Law Dome, an area about eight to ten hours travel by tracked vehicle inland from Casey and, as the name suggests on an elevated plateau. In this area, the ice is over a kilometre thick. Australian National Antarctic Research Expeditions (ANARE) have been taking bore samples here which provide information on ice which is up to 100,000 years old.

By testing the sedimentary deposits, salinity and general composition of this ancient ice, we learn invaluable information relating to climate change patterns and conditions that have existed over centuries of formation of Antarctic ice. Other expeditioners told us of the work they are doing on mosses and lichen and its growth rate over many years. In the search for possible forms of life on other planets, the survival and growth of such organisms in an otherwise hostile environment gives tremendous information on what may be expected in these conditions.



Of course, the real highlight of the day was Christmas Dinner. Apart from those on watch-keeping duty, at 3 pm sharp, the whole of the ship’s crew and all the expeditioners sat down to one of the most magnificent feasts imaginable. Honey glazed leg ham, sirloin of beef, roast turkey and cranberry sauce, Moreton Bay bugs, Tasmanian crayfish, prawns, salmon, oysters all made for a banquet which would have gratified Neptune himself.

Toasts to family and loved ones were shared as well as to the skipper and crew, with the loudest cheer of all reserved for the catering staff whose efforts were magnificent.

At 5 pm we eased ourselves away from the tables and gathered under the Christmas Tree in the library to await the arrival of Santa and his elves, and what a great looking bunch they were when they arrived. Earlier, we had all participated in a Kris Kringle where we each put a small gift under the tree for a fellow traveller whose name we had each drawn from a hat.

It was an excellent way to share the pleasures of giving and receiving without knowing the giver’s name. Although the logo on the caps might have been a bit of a clue to the guys who received our gifts!

As the evening progressed the next significant event was the auction run by ship’s captain, Tony Hansen. I mentioned in an  earlier entry that Aurora’s crew have adopted Camp Quality as their sponsored charity. Ship’s bosun, Per gave us all a personal account of the crew’s continuing involvement with this wonderful organisation which has for over 40 years dedicated itself to improving the quality of life for kids facing cancer. 

This was no ordinary auction – the items being auctioned were all the same – hair! Wintering Station Leader, John Rich started the ball rolling by offering his hair and beard for $1,000. John is one of those quietly spoken, gentle men with a Lincoln-like demeanour and a wonderful statesman-like beard which he told us, his wife had never seen him without. The money was quickly raised, and Elvis arrived complete with star-spangled overalls and dark glasses. To the tune of Blue Suede Shoes, John was rapidly transformed into a chrome-dome. A succession of candidates followed including second cook Mark, with his Frank Zappa locks and krill lady, Angela whose transformation from yesterday’s Queen Neptune to today’s Sinead O’Connor was a sight to see. All together about a dozen lined up to be sheared and the next morning at breakfast we suddenly had a whole group of new faces to get used to.


The evening was topped off for me by the most beautiful Antarctic evening I could have imagined. As midnight approached the sky which had earlier in the day, and generally throughout the voyage been quite overcast became clear and unclouded. The sun drifted toward the western horizon and stayed just an outstretched hands-width above the ocean’s edge. It was a great sight to watch Aurora’s shadow stretching to the east and reflecting from a nearby giant iceberg while the sea shimmered like a lake. A great end to another magnificent day in one of the truly great spots to be on Earth.



Friday, 20 December 2024

A Southern Christmas 2001 - Day 6

 If you are reading this for the first time and haven't been following from the beginning - please DON'T! 

Kindly go back (HERE) and read my introduction and journal entry for Day 1 and hopefully we'll see you here soon.

Our days were getting busier - but we were getting closer to our destination and were about to enter the sea ice.  Read on...

Friday 21st December 2001

At sea (63 Deg S, 113 Deg E)

Tomorrow is the official longest day of the year and will be Aurora’s Christmas Day. We will be arriving and setting to work at Casey on the 25th, so it has been agreed that this year, Santa will make a special early trip to our little part of the world. If tomorrow is anything like as long and eventful and enjoyable as today has been, then we’re in for a treat.

Most of us retired early last night – the ship was taking quite a beating and so were we. We had been experiencing severe gale conditions most of the day and many folk retired to their dongas to ride out the poor conditions.

At around 0200, the sea started to get calmer and by 0230 we were in a sea that was nothing more than a gentle swell. We were approaching the sea ice and by 4 am we were in the thick of it. What a spectacular sight. All day we have made our way through ice which at various times covers from ten to fifty per cent of the sea. It’s difficult to do justice to the scenery by simply writing about it. I’m sure much better poets and literary artists than me have tried and failed.

It is like being on another planet. We have all seen before, on countless documentaries the shapes and the shades of white and blue, but to see it for myself is like nothing I have experienced before. Little wonder that people keep coming back.

At one stage during the day, from horizon to horizon I was able to see majestic shapes of giant icebergs, looking for all the world like mountains, ocean liners, and city skyscrapers. Occasionally a small group of seals would stare at us from their ice floes as we passed and from time to time, we saw the odd minke whale.

Later in the morning we participated in a lifeboat drill which required all members of crew and expeditioners to muster on the helideck in full survival gear, complete with lifejackets. The drill went without a hitch with expeditioners responding immediately to the seven short and one long blast from the ship's siren over the intercom system. 

A couple of hours later, Yann and I sat in our cabin reviewing our video shoot of the drill. Our cabin door was open and we may have had the volume on the playback just a little too loud. It was a little embarrassing when two or three irate expeditioners, in full survival gear, complete with lifejackets arrived at our door having responded to what they thought was a second drill. Somehow I don't think we'll be allowed to forget this!

Following the safety drill, we carried out our krill trawl. Angela and a team from AAD are here to collect live krill samples (hopefully a few thousand) and carry out studies which will help us further understand these remarkable little creatures. Krill is like a tiny shrimp, as big as your little finger and abundant in the Southern Ocean. They are the main feedstock of most of the Antarctic animals including whales, seals, penguins, birds and fish, yet little is known about them. Many of us gathered to observe the activity on the Trawl Deck as Angela and her team, under the guidance of the Chief Mate, lowered a huge net which Aurora slowly trawled for about 15 minutes. We did this twice, but today’s catch recovered a few jellyfish, some squid and a several tiny fish and worms, but sadly only two krill. We will try again at Casey if time and weather permits.

The highlight of the day’s activities occurred later in the afternoon, just before dinner. To a fanfare of blaring conch horns and drums, King Neptune with his Queen and entourage entered the house  – and what an entourage it was. With a team of fearsome enforcers looking variously like Incredible Hulk, Angry Anderson and Zaphod Beeblebrox (complete with two heads), Neptune and his stunning Queen made their way into the E Deck Mess. Here Voyage Leader, Greg humbly beseeched His Majesty to make welcome those first-time travellers who had entered his Antarctic Domain. There were about 15 or 20 of us, including officers, crew and expeditioners who were venturing for the first time – or in the case of the second mate, had been getting away with coming down here for years without ever once getting caught.

My French colleague, Yann was singled out,  being held accountable for a long list of Gallic transgressions ranging from the Moruroa Atoll and the Rainbow Warrior incidents to the Davis Cup. Yann was sprayed with water pistols (filled with gin) and painted with Vegemite. He humbly apologised on behalf of the entire French Nation and was eventually admitted to the Frozen Domain after kissing the feet of the beautiful Queen and her fearsome King. Bad as this might have been, I believe the worst treatment was saved for the little grey-haired guy from the waste company who somehow managed to carry the responsibility for 100 years of human activity in the Antarctic Region. Since I was the last to be seen by His Awfulness, it seemed they had nothing else to do with the rest of the ice in the bin they had but to put it all down the front and back of my shirt. I think it will be a week before I manage to get all the Vegemite out of my hair.

The ceremony concluded with a sumptuous barbecue on the Trawl Deck attended by all expeditioners, officers and crew who weren’t on watch. There really was no better place to be on the planet.

Tomorrow is Christmas Day...