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5th
January
From Jessica.....
Hello everyone!
We checked-in for the
flight to the Pole at 6:30am, and I must have looked so bleary-eyed
that one guy wandered straight up to me and offered me some
Sudafed. God bless his cotton socks! It certainly made the
day more bearable. The woman who was to drive us to the Herc
apologised and said that the flight wasn't actually leaving
till 8:30 so we could cool our heels for a while. We finally
got out there at around 7:30 - very bumpy ride out to Williams
field - and we watched the plane do all sorts of interesting
things, the propellers went on, then off, then some guys ran
around the wings with brooms, yes BROOMS, you know the straw
ones, and then jumped up and down on the wings for a little
while. At the end of about three quarters of an hour watching
this, I wasn't too sure if I wanted these strange men flying
anything I was on! Finally we were told that there was ice
on the wings and they were getting it off. Oh. Well that's
all right then.
We
hopped on at about 8. The plane made all the right noises,
things started getting bumpy, and I lay back and dozed as
we taxied. After a little while, a thought intruded into my
sleep. Gee, we've been taxying for an awfully long time. A
little more awake, I decided that the pilot had decided flying
was too hard, and was going to ski us all the way to the Pole.
Must have been the sudafed. Then I turned and looked out the
windows - we weren't going anywhere! Next thing several airforce
guys hop out the door with shovels, then hop back in, and
we try the whole thing again. Turns out, the skis were bogged
in snow, and the guys with shovels were trying to dig us out.
They tried this three times before finally telling us we were
all too heavy, and would have to get out while they tried
it again.
The short story is that
we didn't get off the ground until 12:30pm, but the flight
was OK once we finally got into the sky. I admit I was pretty
nervous about landing at the Pole. I wasn't feeling the best,
and didn't really want to keel over in the door of the Herc
if it turned out that I couldn't breathe! As it was, I was
worrying over nothing. We landed on the stillest, clearest
day, and if I did stop in the doorway it was to take in the
view. I've never seen anything like it in my life. The glowing
white expanse seemed to go on forever. The air was icy, but
bearable, on my skin ( a warm -32.5C), and I could feel the
dryness straight away, but I didn't find the air too thin
really. I was perhaps a little light headed for the first
hour, but that may have been due to lugging 30kg of bags and
one 30kg SODAR around to my sleeping quarters!
As we drove in to the
Dome we went past the ceremonial South Pole - I had seen it
in so many photos and now it was only metres away. It is just
amazing to be here. There is also an incredible ice sculpture
near the Pole, it's huge! I can't really describe it - an
Aztec or indonesian style face. I'll take lots of photos of
it! After a briefing I dragged all my stuff to my sleeping
quarters, a Hypertat called Betty (there are four: Betty,
Barney, Fred and Wilma).
Hypertats are these
semi-cylindrical fibreglass tents - with a little more room
than the Jamesways, and incredibly warm! Unfortunately, the
bathroom is about ten metres from the building, so you *really*
have to decide if you want to get out of bed and go to the
bathroom or not! There is so much construction going on here!
Half the time I don't know if I'm walking in restricted areas
or not. I am being careful, and no one has yelled at me yet,
so I guess I'm doing alright so far. I am not feeling any
effects of the altitude, really. I am slightly more out of
breath after walking somewhere , especially uphill, and I
feel a bit "thicker" than normal, ( I am really
having to fink about how to spell fings and the ketters on
the leyboard geep metting upmixed), but no dizziness or nausea.
The
SODAR seems to have arrived with me intact. It might have
got a little cold waiting outside the Hypertat for me, but
it is all rugged up in my room now, so hopefully that will
turn out OK. Apparently Andre is due in in about an hour,
so I can probably start being useful when he gets settled
in. I have not run into Rodney as yet, I keep looking for
beards and dreadlocks, but they seem to be pretty popular
here, so it hasn't really narrowed it down.
I am still a little
sick, but the doctor here, "Robo", is a really cool
guy and he gave me some sudafedy-kinda things, so hopefully
it'll clear up soon. I am keeping in the habit of having at
least one glass of water every hour or so, sometimes more,
and my skin feels like paper it is so dry. When I unpacked,
all of my things were pretty frosty, and I didn't even think
when I put some moisturiser on my face - Oil of Ulan at 2
degrees celsius an invigorating experience! But even this
paled into insignificance in comparison to horror and the
anguish of the absent-minded application of near frozen roll-on
deodorant. Oh, the horror...
I am really still just
sussing the place out, which is probably obvious to everyone
here. The most common phrase directed at me, sympathetically
seems to be "new here, huh?" But everyone is very
friendly, and helpful, which is good. I'll chat more tomorrow,
hopefully with the added excitement of an Eskimo wrapped Andre!
smiles,
Jess :)
6th January:
From Jessica:
Hello all,
firstly, thanks to everyone
who has sent mail - please keep it up, it's great to read!
I've discovered this really neat trick. If I walk outside
for a little while and then pinch my nose, my nostrils stick
together, and make me look kind of like a synchronised swimmer,
only without the nose-plug. It's pretty gross. I'm sure your
lives are all enriched after that little tidbit of information.
Andre turned up around
lunch time yesterday, which was great, and we trudged out
to see the AASTO yesterday evening. Bob Spotz has done an
amazing job cleaning the place up, but the place is still
needing a bit of work, not to mention carpet. The good news
is that I have retrieved the semi-mythical Remtech SODAR manual!!!
Unfortunately, it has been somewhat converted to a mixture
of paper-fluoride/ paper-chloride, but I plan to make several
copies of the thing, a couple of which will return with me
to Oz.
We achieved a critical
mass of Australians around the dinner table last night with
two of the AMANDA guys, Darren somethingorother (the AMANDA
winteroverer) a Queenslander, and Gary thingamagig, from ADELAIDE!!!
AND he's a Crows fan!!!! He even had the 1997 premiership
t-shirt on. We played a game of pool after that with Adelaide
rules (the yanks have some strange rules), which I lost quite
dismally. As a physicist, I have no excuse for being as bad
at pool as I am.
We
are running around this morning trying to get paint, carpet
and a number of other things. Brett says our conduit should
be here, but we have yet to locate it. I am looking forward
to getting out to the AASTO, and having a look at the new
shafts drilled for the AMANDA project. They are deploying
the detectors into them today - the shafts are two kilometres
deep! That would be something to see. They are the deepest
ice shafts in the world apparently.
I accidentally sat with
the cargo guys at lunch yesterday. That is, I sat down, and
then they came and sat with me. My nickname is now "Australia".
Oh, the thought processes that went into that one. I suggested
that Jess was probably easier, as it only had one syllable,
but this didn't get through. They are really going to be stuffed
when Jill gets here. They're friendly though, and have been
good with the cargo, so I won't pull out the electric cattle
prod just yet.
Andre is having problems
with his laptop at the moment, and is pestering a poor computer
girl to death next to me. So he has told me to pass on any
other news. Andre is thinking that the AASTO has sunk to concerning
levels, and we might want to think about having it hoisted
up a foot or two, as well as excavating a little snow from
the front side of it. The webcam looks to have gone offline
when Bob Spotz put the heaters in, and Andre will bring it
back on line today, if he can. Today, we will list things
to do, as well as an inventory of AASTO parts and components.
We might even start to splash some paint around. The AASTO
floor is a little dangerous, with only sticky underlay down.
If you stand in one place for too long and then go to move,
you list forward without your feet moving, like in one of
those black-and-white comedy movies. When you do peel the
soles of your boots off, the floor makes this "ssschlruurp"
sound, like mushy velcro.
I'm going to go and
chop off my nose because it's driving me bonkers.
Smiles,
Jess ( aka. Australia)
:)
7th January: The Big Chill
From Jessica:
hi peoples,
I
got cold for the first time yesterday. I know it sounds funny,
me standing here at -32C, but it's actually not very easy
to do unless you're a real bonehead... oh. You get piled with
tonnes of cold weather gear and no matter what they say you
think, "there's no way I can get all of that on without
removing one of my limbs.....". Up until now, I have
been wearing most of it, and , ok, you walk outside and might
be prompted to comment on the fresh brisk weather we're having,
but nothing life threatening.
However, I don't know
what was different today, but walking out to the AASTO with
Andre, the chill started in my legs and fingers. It was *icy*.
By the time we got there, my neck gaiter was frozen to my
nose, and I couldn't feel my chin. It took about half an hour
in the AASTO warmth to feel even a little warm. It shocked
me a little. It is deceptively beautiful here. As you stare
out to the horizon, the far ice looks like a glistening inland
sea, and I noticed for the first time today, as you look into
the sun, the tiny snow particles, diamond dust, shimmers in
the air wherever you look. In the long night, I am told the
aurora are so bright you can read a book by them. And yet
you can be dumb for just five minutes, and in serious trouble.
But on a much more sensible
note, I participated in some very important science this afternoon.
After a few necessary drinks required to perfect our scientific
method, we assisted in a film being shot from a weather balloon
held fifty feet in the air. Very important science. While
the camera stared down, thirty of us lay on the snow and formed
the letters 90S ( as in, 90 degrees south - someone was even
the degree symbol) and then 2000. Everyone then piled into
the small hut, and watched it on replay. It looked pretty
good. However, I was much warmer, as I had gone back to my
room in the meantime and put another layer of clothing on.
Very toasty now.
After scrounging up
some bits and pieces for the AASTO, Andre and I plan to start
assembling the SODAR again. After arduously copying the manual
( the process took about an hour and a half), Andre informs
me that it has been rediscovered in Sydney, so there is no
need. Ah. Anyway, we'll attempt to have it hooting either
today or tomorrow, all going well. (for those who don't know
the SODAR is an acoustic radar, which pipes out cute, if rather
repetitive tunes up into the sky and works out the atmospheric
conditions from the echoes it gets back).
Andre
also plans to retrieve SPIREX bits and pieces which seem to
have been abandoned to the elements. Ok, that's probably all
for todayl. Oh, wait, I've learned something else new . A
girl I had met at dinner one night bumped into me outside,
and without even looking at my nametag said, "it's Jess,
isn't it?" I was amazed, and asked her how she knew.
She replied that she recognised the bottom half of my face
(which was all that was visible.) I now find myself memorising
people's chins when I meet them. Very weird culture that this
place inspires. I can just see the new set of compliments
that this engenders. "I love the way the ice in your
beard glimmers in the moonlight...." or "Your lips
turn the most beautiful shade of blue in this weather...."
Enough silliness. Back
to work. Chat soon,
Smiles,
Jess :)
8th January: Hooters,
big cars and rock concerts
From Jessica:
Hi y'all!!
We
had a *huge* day yesterday. It started off with a lot of running
around with sleds, scrounging for bits and pieces required
for the AASTO. I think I'm mostly acclimatized. I was out
of breath lot yesterday, but that could have been due to the
sixty kilos of instruments that I hauled over a km out to
the AASTO and then a second trip I did with some boxes and
other bits. New motto: "look as pitiful as you can, and
some big handsome macho man will come and help you".
The feminists are screaming I'm sure, but they weren't at
the South Pole trying to haul this stuff.
I had just collected
some empty boxes for the AASTO, and had got a bit carried
away ( there were about seven), and no possible arrangement
was going to allow me to carry them all. Solution: I threw
one on the ground and kicked it in front of me as I walked.
It might sound crazy but was actually reasonably efficient
and fun - I got the giggles half way when I noticed the box
I was kicking, in fact the very words on it that I was kicking
said " Delicate instrument - do not drop!"
I had not gone five
metres before this *huge* truck pulls up in front of me. Two
guys hop out, said something along the lines of "let
me help you with that, little lady", and piled me in
the van, along with all my boxes. I was very embarrassed to
tell them that they only had to drive me about thirty metres.
Success yesterday. The
SODAR is tooting its little hooters off! As Andre and I were
jumping about outside, listening to its first hoots in a year,
the Russian buggy crew drove past us heading for the Pole.
Russian buggy crew? They are this troop of four buggys that
the Russians have crammed with paying tourists from all around
the world, and have driven them across the continent to the
Pole Actually there were originally eight, but alarmingly
four broke down half way, and are still sitting ( including
passengers) somewhere out on the ice! These buggys are incredible.
The are designed to be super lightweight, and have these huge
wheels that are just like overgrown inner tubes that you usually
float on. When they turn corners the wheels list out almost
a forty five degrees as if they're going to fall off! To show
how light they are, they had five station people lie down,
and the buggy drove over them. The lead Russian guy looks
incredible. He has this huge hat made of Siberian dog (poor
dog). The things we do.
I was super tired after
all the sled hauling, but popped over to the summer camp lounge
on invitation to listen to a jen-YU-ine bluegrass band wrangle
out a few toons. One banjo, a geetar and a fiddle, and the
next thing there was some reall toe-tappin', knee-slappin'
fun a happnin' right here at pole! They were very good, and
they were more than willing to introduce an ignorant ausee
( I hate the way they say it!) to "god's own music".
Cheers to all. Hope
it's sunny, and toasty!
smiles,
Jess :)
9th January: Ice cream trucks,
hot sauce and Mel Gibson
From Jessica:
G'day, hope everyone
had a lovely weekend in sunny Oz weather.
The SODAR seems to be
pretty happy, and as I type Andre is about to talk to Mike
Ashley about the Supervisor computer, so hopefully we can
get network connections happy and cheery today. As Andre said,
the SODAR is returning mostly "9999"'s, which does
not surprise me as the weather in the last couple of days
has been amazingly still and calm. There is not even any diamond
dust in the air. It would be nice for perhaps one or two blustery
days just to see some real numbers though. Interesting responses
from station people about the noise. Some of the CARA guys
said that it sounded "way too happy" to be a genuine
scientific instrument. I told him that if I could get it to
play the funeral dirge, I'd try. Another girl says it makes
her hungry because it reminds her of an ice-cream truck. I
had no reply to this.
Yesterday, Andre and
I grabbed a radio and a torch and hiked out to the end of
the runway to see a buried Hercules plane which crashed there
a number of years ago. It is now buried in a couple of metres
of snow, but people have created quite a chamber of tunnels
down into it, which is incredible to look at. Andre said it
was only a couple of kilometres. No problem. Interest got
me the first third of the way. Bravado the second. I have
no idea what propelled me for the final part of the way, but
I remember thinking this plane better have first class in
flight meals to be worth this walk. Admittedly it was pretty
cool to look at. We didn't go down into the main chamber as
the entrance ( about three metres directly down, looked quite
risky with only two of us there), but it was interesting nevertheless.
We struggled back to the AASTO, and sat down, gasping.
Turns out we had been on the road for over three hours! Andre
had six minutes to get back to the dome for a haircut by the
visiting McMurdo hairdresser. The walk kind of stuffed us,
and only sat in the summer camp lounge for about an
hour before crashing.
I did have enough time
to have a chat to a few of the construction crew about stuff.
The fist, and most astute question I was asked: "So,
like, is Mel Gibson the the most popular guy in, like, Australia?"
I told him Mel was a bit past it, but Barry Manilow was still
very popular. Nearly everyone from the US here associates
Australia with the TV series "The Crocodile Hunter"
which is a huge hit over there.
There are fifteen different
brands of hot sauce in the galley. These guys are mad over
it. In fact sauce in general has a complement of about fifty
bottles in various states of use. Most of them have names
like "Old Yeller's Genuine Homestyle Spit-flavoured Strawberry,
Peanut Butter and Chilli Sauce (created from freshly made
preservatives)"
smiles,
Jess :)
10th January: Trench warfare
From Jessica:
Hi everybody, for the
first time since I've been here there was a 9 knot wind up.
It has been incredibly still up until now. Ohhhh, it makes
a difference! Though it was only -31C, the dodgy and subjective
wind chill factor put it at about -47C. It didn't feel quite
that bad but my eyebrows and ponytail frosted over, and you
definitely don't want to stand still.
I lay in bed the last
night and could hear the SODAR from my bed! I should have
known something was wrong when I couldn't hear it in the morning.
My first thought when I realised it wasn't going was that
some irate scientist had taken to the poor thing with an icepick
and blowtorch, but Andre was already neck deep in electronics
when I got out there, and I realised it was far more dire.
Over the next few hours I was privileged to witness the best
piece of electronic detective work I've ever seen. Andre would
NOT be stopped! Quite frankly I was doing too much of an impression
of the abominable snowperson (I *hate* political correctness!!!),
to focus on exactly what magic he was concocting, but in short
what started out as one of the deepest electronic mysteries
of the universe ended up as a brilliant solution and the SODAR
hooting again before dinner.
Why
the abominable snowperson? Well, one of the jobs we have to
do is dig out the one remaining buried cable trailing from
the tower where we will put our new telescope and mount, back
to the AASTO, and dig a new trench for some pipes which will
hold all the new cables. Piece of cake says me. The snow is
called sugar snow, because it clumps just like ....well, you
know, sugar. Ahem, (oh her wondrous descriptive powers), anyway,
it isn't hard stuff to dig. The fact that about three seconds
standing still made you an iceberg didn't help. So I dug to
find this cable. It was only laid last year, and on top of
the snow, so it shouldn't be too far down, I think. I found
it when I was waist deep. That gives you an idea of about
how much the snow rises at the Pole each year. I dug at least
a metre before this cable showed it's frozen little cords
to me. Andre has nicknamed me "Digger" Dempsey,
and I think it's because I've made the AASTO look like the
Russian front from world war 2. There's even a very nasty
booby trap. I have a rope and a line of soft snow across where
the new trench will be, and if you trip over this, it will
send you stumbling just the right distance into my deep trench.
If I don't write tomorrow, you know what has occurred.
We are getting carpet
in the AASTO as I type! Yay! The place will look civilised
soon. Not much else to tell. More digging awaits me. The nazi's
will never get me now. An interesting little coda to that
was when the Russian buggies rocked into town the other day.
I just remembered what the US comms chick actually said over
the intercom. It must be the first time in the history of
the human race that the Americans have cried "The Russians
are coming!" and actually looked forward to the event.
chat soon,
smiles,
Jess "Digger"
Dempsey :)
13th January:
From Jessica:
Dear
all,
We
had our first day of *bad* weather yesterday. In the half
hour of lunch (or maybe it was an hour), the sky went from
blue to blistering white, and the wind chill temp dropped
to nearly -60C at one point, and blowing snow made visibility
limited. It is so much like a desert in this weather. The
snow is rippled just like sand dunes , and in this blowing
weather you understand why. If anything, it was more blindingly
white with the sun hidden, and the snow whipping across the
ground looks just like a white dust storm. And enough sun
glances through the clouds to make the sheets of diamond dust
glimmer. It is beautiful.
Saw
the most amazing ice halo yesterday also. Even with the sun
hidden, this huge circle appeared around the sun, dipping
to the horizon, and upwards half way to the zenith. Above
that, a circular rainbow appeared, and to the left and right
of the sun, on the big circle, these two bright spots, shimmering
with colour, sat for an hour. These sundogs were spectacular,
and for a little while, in a line through these sundogs, a
line went entirely around the sky. I will try to get some
photos if it occurs again, but the ones I have seen in photos
don't quite capture the hidden colour in the white arcs, but
I shall attempt it.
Very
productive day yesterday despite the weather. We packed up
the fried DCU for the TEG, and it is ready to be shipped back
to the land of Oz. Andre has done the most amazing job with
the racks. When we got here they were green, rust brown and
black, and parts of them oozed.
|
We
also disconnected the propane from the AAST0, which
sounds easy, since we assumed that the propane had been
switched off at the tanks. A few lungfulls of propane
disabused us of this concept. We spent the next hour
degassing the pipes, and alternating between choking
on stinking fumes and freezing when we held the door
open to let the gas out. But we didn't die, surprisingly.
I mentioned to a passing GA that if the AASTO did explode
our last wish would be that the burning wreckage fuelled
quite appropriately by burning propane, should be used
to cook up one hell of a barbie.
A
fellow also popped in yesterday and mentioned that they
were coming in to remove about three feet of snow from
around the AASTO. Bye bye trench. I am going to take
some photos of it today. Devastated. Life goes on. Andre
redid the second lots of racks last night, hopefully
in the same lovely shade.
|
Oh,
and some good news. I have two extra days at the pole!!! After
some lobbying and campaigning by several wonderful fellows
here, I am now not leaving until the 17th instead of tomorrow.
woo hoo! Which means I will catch up with both Jill and John,
which I am pleased about. Ok, this satellite has dropped out
five times since starting this email, so I am going to cut
my losses. Thanks to all those Australians telling me how
hot is is up there. I am glad someone has beach weather.
Ok,
enough from me, lovely to hear from all, keep it up,
smiles,
Jess
:)
14th January:
From Jessica:
War of attrition
G'day
from the south, wow
what a great day we had yesterday! Between finally beginning
to set up the
beautifully remade AASTO, the day culminated in the forklifting
of the g-mount,
adorned with the gorgeous ADIMM and AFOS, to the base of the
G-tower.
Earlier that morning Andre., Brett and I repositioned the
primary
mirror and mounted
the AFOS on the mount with only a bit of fidddling. I would
have liked
to have seen hands larger than mine get the screws in place
though.
So
it looks *beautiful*!!! I stood on the G-tower and got some
historical photos, and also a few of a herc taking off. What
an amazing site! When the sky is grey, as it was, the snow
it kicks up causes the dome and all the rest of Pole civilisation
to disappear and blend into the sky - it looks like it's not
there at all!
I
came down when my chin went numb. Then we were fortunate enough
to have Gary who runs the AMANDA neutrino project, give us
the gold-plated tour around the facility. It was enormous.
Thousands of metres of cables, millions of dollars worth of
optical fibres and these OM's (optical modules), these spherical
detector units that look like more complicated versions of
the finder drones in Star Wars. Very cool. We watched the
fifth of six holes being drilled (2000 metres deep, though
they were currently at 1000m), and the guy told me to lean
over the hole and look in. So I did. It was about 100m down
to the water level and kind of terrifying. Just as I did,
though, all of the drive noises shut down, and something went
"clunk!". I jumped up and staggered back from the
hole crying "I didn't touch anything!!!" I was convinced
I had just broken a million dollar experiment. The guy
supervising the hole had merely turned off the blower heater
that was keeping him warm, to scare the living daylights out
of me. Very funny.
We
had a CARA meeting tonight, and not only us, but everyone
seems to be having a good run with their telescopes this season.
smiles,
Jess
:)
From Jill:
Christchurch ---> McMurdo
My first Herc flight!
It wasn't nearly as bad as I was expecting, after hearing
all the horror stories about flights getting half-way, turning
around and sitting squashed up against 2 other people with
your knees touching the "chair" of the person across
from you. I think I was fairly lucky, I got a seat up the
back where I could put my feet up on luggage. I was a little
concerned about the flight, but once we got on and into the
air I was feeling much better. I was just hoping that we would
get to McMurdo and not return to Christchurch!
All
my worries were soon forgotten when we eventually arrived
at McMurdo (after an 8 hour flight). Stepping off the plane
was amazing. It wasn't really that cold (I think it was about
5C), although I did have half my gear on. I guess the best
description would be "crisp and fresh"! The sun
was shining brightly, not a cloud in the sky. This made the
white of the ice even brighter in contrast to the sky. It
was great just to stand there and look around. It was white
as far as you could see, with Mt Erebus just behind the runway.
Well when I say "just behind", I really mean a long
way away, but the air is so clear in Antarctica that distances
are deceiving. What looks close by is really quite a way away
- this is very disconcerting! I saw 'diamond dust' here for
the very first time also. This occurs when sun-light reflects
off ice crystals in the air. It looks like little sparkles
everywhere!
We didn't really see
a lot of McMurdo. As soon as we arrived we ate, found our
rooms and then were very keen and hiked up 'Observation Hill'.
This is a big, very vertical 'mountain' on the edge of McMurdo.
It was a little enthusiastic considering the early rise, the
long flight, and the heavy gear we were wearing. Regardless,
John Storey, two German guys and myself did it anyway. I was
tired before we even got 1/4 of the way!
We (I mean I) made it
eventually and it was certainly worth it! The view was just
magnificent! In one direction there was the buildings of McMurdo,
then behind you the white ice of Antarctic continent and then
in the other direction sea ice and the ocean. It was incredible.
I was absolutely amazed to be standing there. Even stranger
was the fact it was 10:30pm and the sun was not only up, but
felt like mid afternoon - this was going to take some getting
used to! After our marathon hike I crashed into bed in preparation
for our early flight to the Pole the next morning.
Jill :)
15th January:
From Jessica
Today is going
to be a thrill as we are getting the crane to lift the
G-mount onto the tower!
The weather is gorgeous, about -29C and a gentle breeze.
I was running around without my jacket on yesterday. I will
give you a big
letter tomorrow after John and Jill arrive, and the
G-mount is hoisted.
Thanks for the emails!
I will reply individually when I get back to MacMurdo and
have some time on my hands!
love to all,
smiles,
Jess :)
From John:
Jill
and I are now safely at the South Pole, having arrived just
before lunch. On the plane were a group of US Senators
(distinguished visitors), so as soon as the Herc. landed a
van arrived to whisk them away. We sort of hung around for
a bit passing the time of day, but it gradually became clear
we'd been forgotten about. This wouldn't have been so
bad except that they've moved the arrival pad so we didn't
know where we were, and carefully hidden the Dome behind a
big of pile of snow so no-one could find it. Fortunately
we stumbled across some friendly natives who showed us the
way.
After lunch we got the
usual briefing about being good and not fighting and drinking
lots of water and not walking in front of Hercules or under
bulldozers and not going to Old Pole where the aliens live.
Then we got assigned to our beds and this was fine except
mine had a big hairy bloke in it. I pointed this out to the
accommodation people who were vaguely amused by this and have
promised to find me somewhere else. I'm not sure how
hard they are trying: one of the questions they asked was
"Is he cute?"
However,
these minor disasters pale into insignificance compared to
the Gmount Foibles of January 15. In the past few days
the G-mount has been carefully readied for lifting to the
top of the G-tower, a process that requires the use of a not
inconsequential crane. Admittedly the G-mount only weighs
half a ton, but the only available station crane is a monster
of a thing. Half a ton is barely enough to straighten
the kinks in its cable. This is the sort of crane they
use for shifting houses around. Anyway, this gigantic beast
rumbled up on its caterpillar tracks, plucked the G-mount
into the sky and lowered it ever so gently into position.
After a few minutes with Brett and the dogman (I think that's
what they're called) up on the Gtower (the dogman making those
strange dogman hand signals and Brett making more classic
Australian gesticulations), it became clear that the Gmount
simply didn't fit.
With the Gmount back
on the ground an impromptu conference was called. Short of
sending the Gmount back to Canberra or the Gtower back to
Chicago, an innovative solution was required. Bob had arrived
just in time! As I type, Andre and Jess are raiding
the storage container for some 4-inch aluminium bar to make
some 6-inch long standoffs from, and Bob, trusty CARA machinist,
is rolling up his sleeves and dusting off the lathe.
Andre and Jess have
done a fabulous job cleaning up the AASTO, and the electronics
racks now look like new. It's been a depressing experience
over the past three years to have the AASTO reduced to a toxic
waste dump, and every steel part it corroded and rusted.
This year there was also apparently a slimy goo on all of
the cables. It's great to be able to walk in and hardly
find any sign of the damage.
John
From Jill:
McMurdo ---> South Pole
During the flight we
crossed the trans-antarctic mountains. It was a spectacular
view from the cockpit. The seemly little mountains were spread
across in front of us. After a much shorter flight (only three
hours this time - a breeze!) we landed at the South Pole.
While the Herc was taxiing
on the runway in to ....the place where it stops (the regular
airport lounge was closed), we all got dressed into our full
cold weather gear. I could hardly believe that I had made
it. After all the medical stuff, the millions of forms we
had to fill out and especially the wisdom teeth experience
- I was finally at the South Pole. I was very excited, nervous
about what to expect and a little worried about the altitude
all at the same time. This felt very weird, but good! We piled
off the plane to see an expanse of white. It was beautiful.
The weather was excellent again, so you could really see for
miles. It was noticeably colder than McMurdo but not uncomfortable.
The temp was about -20C. I just stood there for a minute or
two and took in the view - almost unable to move. I was just
magnificent. We had travelled with a US senator and several
other 'distinguished visitors' so the shuttle bus came out
to the runway to pick them up.
After several minutes
we realised they had forgotten about us, so we had to hike
it to the dome. This only took a couple of minutes, but we
were a little worried at first as John was a bit disorientated
with the new runway and construction, so we were a little
unsure about which way to go! We soon found out that the dome
was just hidden behind a big pile of ice!
We
then went out to the AASTO (the little building where all
our instruments are) to watch our telescope be lifted onto
the top of a tower. Seeing that we had just arrived and I
was feeling tired and a little overwhelmed, Jess called her
friends the 'Cargo boys' to skidoo us out there. This was
excellent! I didn't mind so much being tired if it meant a
ride on the skidoo. I think the smile was frozen on my face
for about an hour afterwards! We watched the telescope get
lifted onto the tower only to find that the telescope mount
was round, while the tower had a triangular hole! The old
square peg in the round hole trick! Needless to say, the telescope
was returned to the ice, while we piled inside to resolve
the problem (I might add not before John Storey threw himself
flat onto the ice!).
The rest of my day was
spent taking it easy and listening to the talented 'Bluegrass'
players. For those who are not educated when it comes to Bluegrass,
it is 'toe-tapping knee-slapping' kind of music and much better
than the images that description brings to mind!
Jill :)
From Jessica:
Since
beginning this email, the satellite has been just plain stupid.
It is now 5am, Tuesday morning my time...
Hello
all, sorry that I didn't get around to writing yesterday,
but had a wee bit of a sleep in and when I got up the satellite
was down. I have had a few emails from people who have read
the stuff on the web, which is great, and I will attempt to
answer questions when I have a little more time.
Saturday
15th January:
Interesting
day. John and Jill arrived around lunch. In our attempt to
cross the skiway to meet them, Andre and I got caught on the
other side (there are lights which flash, to tell us that
a plane is incoming) so we milled around aimlessly on the
other side, until I got a bit bored. This process took approximately
ten seconds. So I drew a hopscotch board and invited
Andre to play. I was going to cream this old bloke, thinks
me. Five minutes later, I was promptly, as the yanks would
call it, getting my butt well and truly whipped. Andre sneakily
admitted that a six year old daughter was an added advantage.
We abandoned the game to get over to meet the new crew, who
rocked in, graciously accompanied by a US Senator, who was
the day's DV (distinguished visitor), and had a *small* entourage
of twelve. From all reports the guy was a typical politician.
Infer what you will...
It
was great to see John and Jill. John looked raring to go despite
the tiring flight, and we wandered out to the AASTO to see
the G-mount + telescopes loaded onto the G-tower. I climbed
onto the roof of the AS/TRO building adjacent to get some
better photos, which is why the next few minutes were quite
strange. The crane lifted the mount. I took a photo. It raised
it to the tower. I snapped off another shot. It lingered.
I peered nervously over the rim of the camera. It teetered.
Strange muffled gestures were being made by Brett on the top
of the tower. To my horror, the mount then lifted again and
was set back down on the ground. I waved and gestured frantically
to John. "What the hell is going on?" He waved and
gestured helpfully back: "Nff, mrff, (arm lift),
grnf (sweeping gesture), sumptfm, (urgent flailing of arms)".
I sent him back a bunch of gestures I had seen the coaches
at US baseball matches use. Then, eloquent as always, John
summed up the problem. He pointed at the G-tower, and then
tucked his feet up and threw himself down sideways on the
snow, feet and arms sticking up in the air. "It's stuffed".
Oh. Turns out it was the square peg in the round hole problem.
Or more correctly the round peg in the triangular hole. The
bottom of the mount was an inch too wide for the triangular
support on the tower. Unbelievable. While the engineers amongst
us frantically worked on solutions, I gave Tony Press a beginning
of a tour of MAPO. Also got the chance to see the AS/TRO
submillimter tipper ( the sister instrument to the one I am
working on in Sydney) with a guy named Ethan who helped design
the things. We stuffed around with it for a while, and I realised
that all the problems I had with the instrument were not isolated,
and actually are succinctly and generously shared by each
and every edition of the damned thing. At least I'm not alone
in the world.
Saturday
night saw another bluegrass showing, which was great again,
and a great way to relax after a busy day. I have now tried
all types of skidoo-ing, including the standing sled ride
(which is terrifying and a real thrill) and the exhilarating
sitting sled cruise when you sit with your face a few inches
from the speeding snow. The things we do to get from one place
to another.
Sunday
16th January:
From
Jessica:
*amazing*
day, and definitely got the biggest thrill since being here.
I arose a little late, and got out to the AASTO and began
pottering, but we were of course a little set back by the
failed G-tower thing. Then we hear: the famous astronaut Jim
Lovell, captain of the ill-fated Apollo 13 mission and first
man to circumnavigate the moon on Apollo 8 was ariving at
the Pole for a special visit in a DC3 aircraft. At 3:30pm
everyone gathered to hear him speak and hopefully get and
autograph or two. To top it off a second astronaut Owein...
oh bugger, Owein... Owein Whatsamecallit, the scientist on
board the SkyLab shuttle, would also be there. WE gathered,
and I was quite surprised at what Jim looked like. The first
thing he said is "I'm sure you were all expecting Tom
Hanks!", but he was actually a healthy and distinguished
looking gentleman in his early seventies. He was a wonderful
speaker. He chatted about first Apollo 8, which was amazing
in itself, but then of course about the more famous mission
13. As he spoke I leaned against the wall in amazement. It
would not be an exaggeration to say that this guy has always
been a bit of a hero to me. Certainly, in astronaut terms,
I have much more respect for this guy than the guys who first
walked on the moon. It is inconceivable to imagine the peril
that this man had escaped through only his calm and
ingenuity. I kept thinking "This is *the* guy, the real
guy...!" His matter-of-factness only served
to highlight the amazing tale. I will not go into detail
of what he said (because if you've seen Apollo 13 you get
the general idea), and if you want me to, write and I'll chat
to you specifically.
Owein
Thingamagig was also excellent and fascinating. Then there
was a time when they graciously consented to autographs. The
entire station was there. I have both of their autographs,
and I'm going to frame the things,. Jim wrote "To Jessica,
Jim Lovell. Apollo 13" I then, in my most charming Australian
accent, requested a photo with him, which I got someone to
take. OH GOD I hope it works out!!!!
It
is the best namedropping story in the world. Next opportunity
to mention the famous people we've met, nothing
can top, "oh yeah, I once met Jim Lovell at the South
Pole..."! True highlight of my stay. I have since
chatted with both Jim and Owein and have only served to increase
my admiration. Jim is also lefthanded, just like me. Which
of course means, that I can be an astronaut when I grow up.
Jessica :)
From Jill:
Sunday 16th :- Taking
it easy, but guess who I met!
Today I just took it
easy. I don't think that the altitude has affected me much
more than making me sleepy and gasping for air if I do things
too quickly. The best and most memorable thing that happened
today was meeting Captain James Lovell (astronaut from Apollo
8 and Apollo 13). He spoke briefly about his missions; on
Apollo 8 he was one of the first people to see the dark side
of the moon and Apollo 13, well I think everyone knows that
story!
I think most people
from the station were in the galley to hear him and were mesmerized
when he was describing the Apollo13 mission and what went
wrong. Ok, maybe that was a slight exaggeration, I'm not sure
if everyone was mesmerized, I know I was! I got an autograph
and photo with him which certainly made my day. It was amazing
to think Jim Lovell was standing right in front of me. It
was fantastic. I can't believe I am here and that this is
happening.
Jill
:)
17th January
From John:
Andre has been working
hard getting the new web camera to work, and this has
generated considerable interest around the station. Halfway
through the afternoon
we got a call from the journalists accompanying Jim Lovell
on his visit to the Pole.
They wanted to do a live interview via Iridium satellite
phone, and wondered if they could use streaming video from
our web camera
to accompany the voice! Quick on his feet as ever, Andre
explained how difficult
it would be to set the webcam up somewhere else and
that perhaps they'd all like to come out
to the AASTO.
So next thing we get
a visit from the Fox TV folk who scope out the AASTO
and recognise instantly
that it is the ideal outside broadcasting studio.
The Iridium phone didn't work particularly well inside, so
we sent Jess up
on the roof with an external satellite antenna. Unfortunately
we forgot to turn the acoustic radar off first, so Jess only
got halfway up the ladder
before her ears starting smoking. We turned it off
as soon as we could but now we can only communicate with her
by shouting very
loudly or waving our arms around. We think she'll recover
eventually.
So, with Iridium link
in place and the webcam running, Lovell and his crew
arrived at the AASTO
at around 4 am. The interview went well, and should
have gone live to the
entire Fox and Sky networks. That's publicity!
As a souvenir of the
event, Lovell signed one wall of the AASTO:

The astronauts were
only supposed to stay a few hours at Pole, but it has
been snowed in at their
destination (Patriot Hills) for the past few days.
It's been great having
them around. They come along to meals with us and are
more than happy to chat about their experiences.
Check out the Fox news
website: http://www.foxnews.com
to see the article on Lovell and also perhaps the interview
I did about the
AASTO. Actually I just checked it out myself and there's a
dramatic article "Stranded
at the South Pole" which makes good reading.
This
year the Iridium phone system has been working well, and many
people on the
station are using them. Out in the "Dark Sector"
where we are, the only
warm shelter (apart from the AASTO itself!) is the solar heated
dunny. On several occasions
I've gone in there to find someone leaning against
the wall using their Iridium phone. I like the irony: for
years phone booths
in the less salubrious parts of town have been used as
impromptu dunnies; this
must be the first case of a dunny being regularly used
as a phone booth!
While Iridium has been
good the rest of the satellite links have been awful,
and we're struggling under the worst communications we have
had for years.
I'm in the process of shifting to an early morning schedule
(starting around 3 am
Sydney time) to take advantage of the best links. I
finally started to do some science today, working with Andre
to get the various
computers in the AASTO talking to each other. I first had
to get poodle
(my laptop) linked into the South Pole network, and of course
they've changed the sub-mask
and all those incomprehensible things since I was
here last. Fortunately the station computer person (who appears
to be known, with
some justification, as "the lovely Jenny") came
out with the Fox
people to sus out the webcam, and she fixed it all on the
spot.
Jill has settled in
well and is already starting to help sort through the
things we'll be sending
back ("retro" in Antarctic parlance). Jess
appears to have been
having a fabulous time and may have to be dragged kicking
and screaming to the Hercules tomorrow. The weather has been
beautiful the past few
days---cloudless skies, the temperature hovering between
-26 and -28 C, and just enough wind to remind you how cold
it is without
being really unpleasant.
John
From
Jessica:
Since
beginning this email, the satellite has been just plain stupid.
It is now 5am, Tuesday morning my time...
Hello
all, sorry that I didn't get around to writing yesterday,
but had a wee bit of a sleep in and when I got up the satellite
was down. I have had a few emails from people who have read
the stuff on the web, which is great, and I will attempt to
answer questions when I have a little more time.
As
you will have noticed from the email, I have managed to wrangle
another day at the Pole. Tee hee. I leave this morning about
11:30. I will hopefully be in MacMurdo until Jill comes out
and we fly back to Christchurch on the 24th. I think I've
realised what I really love about this place. It's the people.
Now that I'm in the swing of it, it is inconceivable *not*
to say hi to everyone you pass in the halls or outdoors. Everyone
who is here has excellent people skills because you just can't
survive here without them. In Sydney you don't talk to the
person next to you on the bus. If they chatted to you you'd
wonder what the hell they were out to get, and what was wrong
with them. It's a very unhealthy state of mind to live in
for a long time. A lot of my natural cynicism has been put
on the backshelf while I'm here. It seems out of place. Ungrateful.
The mix of people is so unusual and yet it works. People remember
your name. And ask how you're doing today and, wait for it,
*mean* it. They actually want to know. You couldn't keep me
away from this place. I am going to find every means possible
to winter here sometime soon. I don't even mind the cold.
I was running around in the dome (at -30C) in a t-shirt yesterday.
Bonza weather!
I
am now packed and ready to go at least physically. I have
not had time to really sum up my thoughts so I'll give you
my final Pole email once I arrive in McMurdo. I will also
be able to write personal emails once I get there (as I'll
have time on my hands) so please keep up the questions. And
the g'days, and I'll be able to respond directly.
smiles,
Jess
:)
Tuesday
18th January:
From
Jessica:
Dear hardy Polar trekkers,
Amazing stuff on Monday
night! The astronauts have been stranded here at Pole for
two days due to bad weather at Patriot hills which is their
destination. This has been great for us, as we have had numerous
opportunities to chat with them at meals and so on. They are
great guys.
However,
we have been lamenting that we could not get them to come
and look at the AASTO. Fiddling around with the webcam yesterday,
no wait the day before, and we get a phone call from the publicity
people along for the ride with Jim Lovell. The fox news team
wants to do an interview with Lovell and could they use our
webcam to get a live updated video image of Jim? Quick as
a flash, Andre replied that it would be our pleasure but the
webcam (which weighs about 200grams and has been bumped and
bashed all the way to the Pole) was unwieldy and delicate
and they would *have* to do the interview from the inside
of the AASTO.
So they did! At about
3am our time! Poor Jim. John witnessed the entire thing, and
got Jim to sign the wall of the AASTO:
James
Lovell. Apollo 13.
1/18/00.
Wow, wow, wow.
All done in our wee
little AASTO! With an inflatable kangaroo in the background.
Yeah, sorry about that, my fault. I had to go up on the roof
the day before the interview and put up an antenna for the
iridum phone they use for the link. However, we forgot about
the SODAR. The acoustic radar is incredibly directional, in
that, if you are under it, in the AASTO, it is barely louder
than a phone ringing. Remember though, that pointing upwards
it has to be loud enough to reach 600m in the air and get
an echo back. So I got about half way up to the ladder and
the beam swung around. it was so loud it felt like my ears
imploded. I yelled down at John to turn it off. And threw
myself on the AASTO roof and clamped my hands on my ears.
Every third note was at just the wrong frequency and I could
feel my ear vibrate. Ouch. Someone finally pulled out a plug
and there was blessed silence. My ear rang for about five
hours afterwards.
I
ran around on Monday night and Tuesday morning and got a lot
of photos of people. I can't believe how many people I have
made friends with n two weeks. John took our "hero"
shots at the South Pole, Jill and I standing there with a
UNSW crest which we had to chase half the time due to the
gusting wind. I was getting more and more down as the day
went on and I knew I was going to leave. I can't say that
I was all down though. I suppose it is reasonably safe to
say now that from various people I have met here, it is now
almost definite that I will be wintering over here at South
Pole next year. [Mum, I really hope you are sitting down].
It took me about a week
to be sure, and my final day to realise that there is no way
I could go on with the rest of my life without returning here.
The current, and tentative plan is to begin my PhD with john
Storey, and then suspend this for a year to winter at the
Pole. The details, the important ones, are yet to be worked
out, but I have no intention of letting this opportunity go.
One way or another, I will be back.
I am in McMurdo now.
I flew out yesterday and arrived here about dinnertime. I
will spend six days here, which is great, just chilling out,
and hopefully go out with Jill to NZ on the 24th. I have a
nice room, and the girl I share with is lovely. And you don't
have to walk outside to go to the bathroom!! It has an ensuite
and a sauna on the bottom floor. I think I'll investigate
that one tonight. McMurdo is so diferent. The place itself
is not much to look at, but you gaze past the buildings to
the broken pan ice on the bay, and the blackrock, snowcovered
mountains behind it. Ice can be so many different colours
and when the light catches the blue shelves of broken ice
on the water, every imaginable colour of blue dances in your
vision. The weather is much warmer, but the winds, which have
been apparently nonexistent until just before we got here,
are very strong.
I will sign off after
the next mail. If anyone wants to hear further, give me a
yell and I will reply personally. I have a little time on
my hands for the next few days. yay! It is wonderful to hear
from the people who have read my mails on the web. I would
be happy to answer any questions from anyone. Thanks
to everyone who has mailed and kept me company on this amazing
trip. Your support and electronic smiles have been uplifting.
I will see most of you when I return to Sydney and maybe Adelaide,
or Darwin or any of the half dozen other places you guys are.
The ends of the earth are never as far away with friends and
family such as I am lucky enough to have. I will finish off
with my favorite South Pole quote, from an American chick
I talked to in Christchurch, and asked me where I was going.
I told her.
This has to be imagined
in a broad Texan accent: "The South Pole, huh? Is
that anywhere near the North Pole?"
love, and many warm
smiles from the frosty southern land,
Jess :)
Jessica's
final diary entry:
I stood near the runway.
My head was muddled. I had missed the official shuttle to
the plane, and I wonder whether my subconscious had blocked
out the announcement, sensing the reluctance to leave which
enveloped me. So I had bolted to a second shuttle, and now
stood, chest heaving in the rare Antarctic air, watching the
plane. I vaguely remember waving to John, Andre and Jill near
the Dome. I didn't watch them stride out to the AASTO. I had
stared down at my bag. And now we waited, ten anonymous, sexless
travellers in identical coats and faceless goggles and gaiters,
as the cargo was loaded onto the Hercules. The ice crystals
whipped around the propellers and the tracks of the forklift
that hoisted our bags onto the flight. My feet felt set in
concrete. I loved it here. I didn't want to go anywhere. For
a few minutes I could not recall John's assurances. I would
be back. I may winterover. I would have plenty of time to
enjoy it. All of that faded as I gazed across the white silence
of the Plateau, away from the churning plane, and watched
the dance of the ice clouds on the horizon. A heavy hand tapped
me on the shoulder. It was Juan, a Mexican-American guy with
a huge curly grey and black beard, who ran the cargo facility
and had spent three winters and five summers on the ice. He
was a great guy. He tapped again and then pointed into the
sky.
My breath caught. I
had attempted in previous emails to describe the ice halos
I had seen, but everyone I had spoke to said they had only
been mediocre. Not this one. The mist of ice rolled back from
the sun and even in my goggles, hurt my eyes. Two sun dogs,
bright in brilliant rainbow colour ran along the sides of
the burning star, and a huge glowing circle dipped all the
way to the horizon. On top of the circle a swirling twist
of light glowed brilliant white in contrast to the rainbows
of the circle. And above that again, a circular rainbow, almost
complete, adorned the actual zenith of the sky, right above
the crowning point about which the earth itself turned.
I
couldn't believe the timing. I only became aware that I was
crying by the surprise as my cheeks burned as hot tears ran
in small rivulets down my cold cheeks. I do not think I have
ever wept at sheer beauty before. I felt another heavy hand
on my shoulder. This time it was a figure garbed in army fatigues,
and he gestured towards the plane. I saw other passengers
with orange bags making their way across the ice. I was thankful
for the anonymity and dignity the goggles and gaiter provided.
No one knew of my distress. A I turned towards the plane,
I cried harder. This time because I was walking away from
the halo, I could not behold it's glory, and it seemed in
one blow to sum beauty that I was being carried away from.
I realised suddenly how much this place had got to me. My
emails had been upbeat and jovial, as had been my manner at
the Pole. In a panic I felt suddenly that I had not used my
time well. I had not stopped on the skiway enough, and just
looked. I had not felt the unique dry snow with bare hands
or drank enough of its melted clear waters. I cannot describe
how this place changes you, and in fact the only way I can
tell you what it did is to say how physical and cruel the
pain was as I tramped heavily towards the plane and away from
the most beautiful sight I have beheld in my life.
The noise of the propellers
filled my ears. As I rounded the nose of the plane, I could
not help it. I glanced back. And gasped again. As I stared,
and in a matter of seconds, the ice which had cleared only
a moment before, whipped up again, and in a blink the halo
was gone, the sun was gone, and behind it remained only a
glowing white expanse of sky and ice, indistinguishable from
the far horizon. I climbed into the plane. And sat down. I
closed my eyes. And stopped crying.
In the blackness behind
my eyelids, the afterimage of the halo burned brightly. Every
inch of it. It remained there for some minutes and in those
moments as we took off and flew north, my panic and pain faded.
The halo stoped seeming like a last goodbye and more a promise.
The Pole's last gift to me was an image which etched itself
on my soul. The afterimage will remain there longer than the
one behind my eyes. It will be the passion to return that
will ensure that I see and stand on the great white expanse
again, and soon. It will be the urgency to do so before the
image fades. It will be a profound promise to myself to find
other such paces on this earth before these protected frontiers
of wilderness and human endeavour are gone forever.
I did not open my eyes
again on the flight, and yet I did not sleep. There is a small
emptiness in me, where the image was, and where the afterimage
glows. I have left a part of myself at Admundsen Scott base,
and it pulls me. In its hollows the silence of Terra Incognitia
echoes and calls. I will listen and follow it's piper's tune.
I wonder a little if I have any real choice to do otherwise.
Thankyou for accompanying
me on this journey. I hope only that you my have caught a
little of my hope and passion for this place. I am unashamed
of it. It is one place where my cynicism and wry disbelief
in this world dims and shatters. Even as this place freezes
your skin it warms your heart. It is an acceptable trade off.
Greetings, and much love from Terra Incognitia.
Jessica
19th January
From John Storey......
Today
was the first full day since I arrived that has been devoid
of both DVs and astronauts, so I was able to get stuck into
a few of the more subtle problems facing us. First amongst
these was the fact that the AFOS stops working when you plug
the CCD in, which is a shame because the CCD is not only the
most expensive part of the system but also rather central
to its operation. The problem was that the power supply smoothing
inductor had too high a resistance, and the 5V power supply
was dropping too low to keep the CPU running when all the
current load was on. The first idea was to get another inductor.
The second idea (following the lack of success of the first)
was to rewind the inductor with thicker wire. Unfortunately
thicker wire was no more available than substitute inductors.
Finally we unwound the inductor, doubled the wire over, and
rewound it with half the turns but two wires in parallel,
thereby cutting both the inductance and the resistance by
a factor of four. This done, the AFOS CCD electronics now
works like a champ---at least to the point we have tested
it.
The
main excitement of the day was the arrival of not one but
two bulldozers (including the fearsome D7) to shovel roughly
a metre of snow from around the AASTO and Gtower. Webcam devotees
will notice a significant difference already, and will also
see how we carefully removed all the junk before the bulldozers
got there. (The black thing on the roof is a "Do not
freeze" box which is probably only a bit frozen. We had
to put it somewhere.) Jessica's trench has been sort of obliterated,
and so we'll all get out tomorrow and start a new one. The
two bulldozers spent many hours shovelling, and now there
is a huge snow hill behind the AASTO.
Trapped inside the AASTO
while the heavy machinery rumbled in circles around us was
like a scene from Mad Max II. They're after our propane, I
thought! Fortunately sanity returned shortly later---put it
down to the altitude.
Other
good things we did were:
- Took hero shots of
Jess and Jill at the actual South Pole, holding aloft a
UNSW logo and trying not to look cold.
- Locating the NISM
in Christchurch and setting it en route to the Pole.
- Getting the Gmount
up onto the tower (it fit, this time)
- Digging out the G-tower
ladder.
- Finding *almost*
all the ex-SPIREX bits and shipping them back (The main
thing missing is the gorgeous 5-inch diameter sapphire window.)
Jill also took all the
electronics spares out of their plastic bags and put them
in proper anti-static ones. She also labelled them properly,
starting a new and disturbing trend towards a properly organised
spares collection.
Michael Ashley continues
to give us great software support from Sydney, and acts as
our "sea-level brain"---he who still has his full
mental faculties.
John
20th January
From Jill:
This morning we were
assigned shovel duty. After the bulldozers finished with the
majority of snow removal yesterday, we were left to dig small
trenches around the corners of the AASTO so that the bulldozers
could get in closer. It wasn't too hard to dig through, some
of the snow was like powder while other stuff was as hard
as .... well I guess ice! It is really a strange place to
work. While we were shovelling snow, I heard a load noise,
raised my head only to discover a Herc taking off a short
distance from us. It was great to see this big chunk of plane
get off the ground. A magnificent sight.
Paolo arrived today,
so I was 'tour guide' this afternoon, which was fun. He arrived
with another of our instruments which is to be installed on
the roof of the AASTO in the next couple of days. I'm just
getting used to being here. I slept properly for the first
time last night. I'm living in a Jamesway, which is a semi-cyclindrical
tent type thing out in the "Summer camp". I have
a room on the end, which means I get a window! They are reasonably
comfortably, the only problem being that the toilet is in
another building!
The telescope is now
on the tower after our initial 'problems'. We hope to dig
trenches to run the cables out to the tower tomorrow - more
digging! While I have been doing odd jobs in the last couple
of days - and mostly watching the electronic wizardry of Andre
and John, I become kind-of useful when we want to run the
software for the telescope, being somewhat familiar with it.
This coincided nicely with the time I was scheduled to leave
(tomorrow), so I smiled sweetly and asked if I could stay
an extra couple of days - and guess what it worked!
So I'm here until Monday,
yay!
Jill
:)
From
John Storey.....
Today
it was action-packed fun from start to finish. We began by
noting that the bulldozers had removed about a metre of snow
from all around the AASTO, except for a little island surrounding
the AASTO itself. Basically they couldn't get in any closer
because of the guy-wires, webcam, and other essential AASTO
accessories. Unfortunately, having a raised bit of snow in
front of the AASTO would be very bad over winter, as it would
almost certainly trip the wind and cause rapid burying of
the AASTO. After some debate we undid the guy wires (we don't
think we need them at South Pole), dug them out, dug up the
webcam, and invited the bulldozer back to slice his blade
within centimetres of the AASTO. Webcam devotees will already
have noted the transformation. Andre was the hero of the occasion,
digging out with his bare hands the original hole that the
webcam mast had sat in, to ensure it went back in exactly
the same place.
Around
lunchtime a Herc arrived carrying not only Paolo, but also
Dave Pernic (who will tend to the AASTO over winter - according
to his dad - but I'm not sure he knows that yet), John Carlstrom
(Director of CARA), Rodney Marks, Randy Landsberg, and Tom
Bania, plus a whole bunch of people I don't know.
Not
only that, but the NISM arrived too. It was carrried out to
the MAPO building on bulldozer, and unpacked by Paolo and
Jill. It's ready to go into the AASTO, but right at the moment
here isn't enough room. We'll get all the cabling done first.
With
the ground level properly esatblished, we then set about digging
a new trench from the G-tower to the AASTO. This was mainly
a Brett and Andre activity---I hid in the AASTO and pretended
to do electronics.
Actually
what I was doing was verifying that the COM2 port on the AFOS
works properly, having yesterday discovered an unpleasant
little problem that kills COM1 as soon as the CCD is initialised.
I had my ususal sanity-threatening RS232 experience, finding
that when I put the DB25 - DB9 adaptor plus DB9 gender changer
into the socket there wasn't enough room for the DB9 cable,
so I had to start with a DB25 cable, add the DB25 - DB9 adaptor
plus DB9 gender changer and finish it all off with null modem
for good measure. Fortunately it worked. We can even re-use
the DB25 - DB9 adaptor plus DB9 gender changer when we connect
to the G-mount, which hopefully will be soon.
I
didn't sleep well last night because some idiot parked a Hercules
outside my window and left the engines running for an hour
while they transferred fuel.
After
dinner we scored two 25-foot lengths of Cat5 UTP cable ethernet
from the lovely Jenny in the computer centre. This will allow
us to tidy up the wiring in the AASTO which is currently lying
across the floor. This time we got white cable, which will
have a significantly less delterious effect on the Feng Shui
of the AASTO than the hideous Barbie-doll pink stuff they
gave us last time.
We're
a bit stymied with the AFOS because the IRAF software on pharlap
appears to have vanished. We'll chat to Rodney about it. Rodney
has bright purple hair. Dave Pernic has bright red hair. Another
of the winterovers has no hair at all except for a large star.
It's shaping up to be an interesting winter.
I
promised I'd go back and describe the experiments in the Clean
Air Sector (as much for my benefit as yours). Most are in
the new ARO building.
NASA
Goddard are running a green LIDAR with 20 m resolution, and
a range of 200 m to 9 km. Interestingly, this is different
experiment and different bunch of people to those that were
here last year.
There's
also an Alexandrite laser LIDAR to measure stratospheric tempertures.
It pumps two energy levels of iron and works out the temperature
from the Boltzmann distribution of the populations. It has
an *average* power output of 3 watts at 372 and 374 nm, which
might make an interesting calibration line for the AFOS!
The
NSF are running a high resolution solar spectrometer, whose
reults will alos be interesting to compare to those from the
AFOS
The
Univeristy of Washington are running a mid-infrared FTS, and
are getting results that are directly comparable to those
from the MISM. We've had some very useful discussions already.
The FTS can not only
measure atmospheric emission, but can also measure absorbtion
over a horizontl path of a few hundred metres to a retro reflector.
This will really nail the aerosols!
The
most fun experiment is SPARCLE, which is a CCD camera that
is towed up by tethered blimp. As it goes it unrolls a reel
of sticky tap, onto which the ice crystals ("diamond
dust") stick. The camera takes an image
at two different magnifications, and the live video is recorded
at the receiver.
That's
enough for today. Tomorrow we hope to get the G-mount up and
running, and put in the trench that will carry the AFOS fibres
and electrical wiring.
John
21st January
From Jill:
This morning was spent
digging a trench out to the tower. I think we picked the worse
day yet to be outside. It was much colder than in previous
days and very windy (-40C with windchill). You could only
work outside for about 20 minutes before you had to go inside
to warm up and rest. Any physical exercise here is much harder
than at sea-level due to the lack of oxygen in the air. Today
was also the first time I had actually felt cold and a little
numb. Walking from the AASTO to the dome for lunch, my legs
and fingers were very cold. So, after lunch I put an extra
layer on everywhere - head, feet, body, legs, neck and hands.
It is a lot of clothes to carry around, but it was worth it.
I was nice and toasty!
Our afternoon was spent
trying to feed cables down the pipes we put in our trenches.
This seems like an easy task, but not when it is -40C outside!
At these temperatures, any cables that you take outside freeze
almost instantly, so you have to make sure they are unrolled.
If you try to unroll them when they are cold, they are so
brittle that they shatter. To get around this problem, I was
assigned 'gofer'. My task was to walk off, away from roads
and buildings to straighten out the cable as Andre unrolled
it. As I was walking, I looked up and for the first time it
occurred to me how isolated we were. There was just nothing
but snow as far as you could see. It was a bit of a shock.
It hadn't really occurred to me before this, as there are
always people walking around, buildings at least grouped together
and we always walk towards some other building - not really
looking around. It was quite a relief to get back to the little
AASTO, both as the comfort of having people around, and of-course
the warmth!
John
Storey is leaving tomorrow, a week before his scheduled departure.
He is going to Terra Nova Bay to talk to the head of the Italian
Antarctic program about moving some of our instruments to
Dome C nest year. Dome C is high on the Antarctic Plateau,
mush higher than the South Pole. It is interesting to us,
as we think it would make the best site to build a big telescope.
The whole purpose of us being here (maybe I should have said
this earlier!) is to establish how good the South Pole is
for astronomy. All our instruments test the conditions here
for this purpose. Our plan is then to move the AASTO (it will
fit into the back of a Herc) and drop it, gently, at Dome
C to take more measurements so that then they can be compared
to the South Pole data. The Italians already have a base at
Dome C, so John is going to discuss plans. We will miss his
expertise! I'm really starting to feel comfortable here now.
The work we are doing is interesting - I'm learning heaps
about electronics and am in general enjoying my time here.
Jill
:)
Saturday
22nd January:
From Jill:
If I
said it was cold yesterday, I was wrong - it was cold today.
The wind has picked up further, making it tiring to walk from
the dome out to the AASTO. Our job for today was to lay the
cables in the conduits so that we could control the telescope.
Having completed this, we began to test various LEDs and lamps
and after some more remarkable electronic detective work by
Andre, managed to turn them on and off using the software.
A very important step!
I have been learning
a lot about electronics, but I think the three most important
things I have learnt today are:
- "real"
men don't read manuals
- women are much
better at finding things in crowded rooms and
- a "heat gun"
is really a turbo powered hairdryer.
Eyes rolled and
I heard a "huh chicks" comment from the depths of
the AASTO after the remark about the hairdryer. I was then
asked if I would like to dry my hair with it - a suggestion
which I flatly refused! Nothing much else to report for today,
except the fact that my departure is rapidly approaching,
oh and we had chocolate ice-cream for dessert tonight!
From John Storey.....
Rather
unexpectedly I have been invited by Ing Mario Zuchelli, head
of the Italian Antarctic program, to visit him at Terra Nova
Bay to discuss future developments at Dome C. So, I'm leaving
the Pole in about three hours! I'll spend tonight and tomorrow
in McMurdo, then fly in a Twin Otter to Terra Nova on Monday.
We
are making excellent progress with the instruments here at
South Pole. However a major frustration has been the collapse
of the station intranet, making it impossible for us to properly
test things.
John
Sunday
23rd Jan: My last night :(
The weather
is windy and nasty again today. Sundays here are very relaxed,
for most people it is there day off. We took it fairly easy
today getting the optical fibres ready to lay in the conduits
(most of the credit going to Paolo). For my last night at
the Pole, I thought I should get out and see the sights -
you know do the touristy thing. My first sight to see (and
highly recommended to anyone travelling this way) was the
buried plane at the end of the skiway (a few years ago a plane
missed the runway, hit the snow and was left there). Because
the weather was so bad I didn't want to walk out there (it
is several kilometres), so I got a ride out on a skidoo with
one of the winter-over guys who also wanted to go. I think
I was wearing all the clothes that I was issued with, including
the "you'll never wear these" gloves.
The ride out there
was great, we even cleared the snow on a couple of occasions!
The view was magnificent, the dome was so small on the horizon,
it really gave you the sense of isolation. All but the tip
of the tail of the plane is under snow now, so to get to the
plane you have to slide down a slippery slide tunnel at the
tail. It was loads of fun - the only problem being that you
have to climb up this slide to get out! Half way up I realised
that the boots I had on were *not* made for climbing. we then
proceeded to the front of the plane and crawled in the cockpit
and passenger bits. Although it was really cold and windy
outside, it was warm enough inside the plane (I think this
was definatley relative). Having said that it must have been
cold, as my eyelashes had ice on them and stuck together when
I blinked! It was really great to sit inside the buried plane.
Everything that could have been removed was, with the exception
of some glass in the windows and a cup dispenser! After climbing
out of the cockpit (I was thankful, there was a ladder this
time) we took the touristy photos (before my camera froze),
jumped back on the skidoo and skidooed back to the warmth
and comfort of the dome! I'm glad I enjoyed the view on the
way out, as my goggles were completely fogged up and icy on
the way back - I couldn't see anything! (BTW I wasn't driving).
The next stop
on the tourist tour was the greenhouse. The Pole has a small
greenhouse where they grow herbs and vegies for a salad for
the winter-overs. It was very humid inside (about 23C) so
it was a nice place to defrost after the skidoo ride! The
only other place of interest was the "ski Hut" which
is only accessibly by skis (funnily enough). I didn't have
the energy to do that, so alas I missed out - maybe next time!
The rest of the
night was filled with packing, exchanging e-mails with friends
I'd met and getting ready to leave :(
Monday 24th Jan: Leaving..
Today
was a sad day. As quickly as the time had come to go to the
pole, it came to leave. The weather had improved which made
it even more difficult. If had been blowing like it had the
previous few days, then I think it would have made leaving
a bit easier! I spent the morning saying goodbye to all the
great people that had been so nice to us during our stay.
The wait for the plane was long. When it finally arrived and
we were loaded into the shuttle bus, I took a long hard look
around me. As we left the dome, passed the ceremonial and
geographic poles and seeing the AASTO off in the distance,
I hoped that one day I would have the opportunity to come
back. It really is a magnificent place.

As we boarded
the Herc, I saw "diamond dust" again. I hadn't seen
it for a few days because of the clouds and it reminded me
of when I first arrived, which seemed like only yesterday.
The Herc took off without too much trouble and I pictured
it as I had seen it take off only a few days before - and
as simple as that we were northbound.
From John Storey.....
Today
did not begin well, when I found my legs so stiff I could
hardly walk. Jess may well have the last laugh on this one.
I did however check the results board and found I came 14th
in the Men's Masters class and won hands down in the "Australian
Physics Professors Who Own a Poodle" class.
In
case anyone is wondering what the above is about, yesterday
was the annual Scott's Hut race. It is much as Jess told it
in her email---first we ran to Scott's hut and back, which
seemed fair enough, but then the
race continued up and over a mountain half the size of Kosciusco
to the turn-off to the New Zealander's Scott Base, then back
to McMurdo followed by a return trip to Scott's Hut again
for no apparent reason, and finally back to the Chapel where
a highly trained team of religious officials were no doubt
secreted inside, ready to administer last rights. It was actually
a tremendous amount of fun; it is the first long-distance
race
(or short distance race, for that matter) I have competed
in since I was sixteen.
Today's
breakfast was up to the usual McMurdo standard (inedible)
so I settled for a little box of Rice Bubbles and one of Corn
Flakes, eaten without milk since there is no substance on
offer here worthy of the name.
I
then took the shuttle out to Williams Field, but instead of
settling down to wait for the usual Hercules I was directed
to the "Ken Borek Shack" to await the arrival of
a Twin Otter from Terra Nova Bay (BTN). Ken Borek Air operates
out of Canada, and is subcontracted by the NSF to provide
pilots and aircraft for the Antarctic summer.
The
plane duly arrrived full of French and Italians who had recently
been at Dome C. This was my first opportunity to take a really
close look at a Twin Otter. At first sight it appears to have
been designed with a
complete disregard for the principles of aerodynamics. There
are cables hanging out in the breeze everywhere, the skis
are attached to the axles where the wheels once were---even
the anti-lock brake sensors are still in place, the suspension
consists of a bunch of leaf springs that look like they're
out of an FJ Holden, and a curious arrangement of bungee cords
stops the skis from flapping up and down.
The
bad news was that fog was rolling in to BTN, and that we might
not be able to make it back. The pilot decided to wait for
half an hour, during which he entertained me with graphic
descriptions of how the Twin Otter that serviced AGO 6 this
year had caught a wingtip in the snow on take-off and ripped
the entire wing off. I found some reassurance in the fact
that the pilot apparently felt this a sufficiently unusual
occurence to be worthy of comment. It was in fact he who went
in to collect the by now somewhat shaken (but unhurt) crew.
Susequently a Hercules went in to collect up the identifiable
bits of Twin Otter, put them in boxes and cart them back to
Canada.
Anyway,
that was basically it for pre-flight briefing, so we all hopped
in and scooted off across the airfield to refuel.
Have
you ever pulled in to a petrol sation only to find the pump
doesn't reach? Embarassing, isn't it? Well, imagine doing
it in a Twin Otter. It was only a matter of about a foot,
mind you, but both engines had to be
re-started, given a good hard rev and then a sudden burst
of coarse pitch to break the skis free (they freeze to the
ice), followed immediately be a whole heap of reverse thrust
to pull us up again. Could be worse, I thought to myself,
we still have two wings.
Then,
without further ado, off to BTN! It was actually a fabulous
90 minute flight, cruising at a mere 1500 feet down the coast
of McMurdo Sound in brilliant sunshine and quite spectacular
scenery. As we approached BTN we could see low cloud so we
dropped to 700 feet to come in under it. After a few minutes
the ground disapperaaed and then the sky, until we were in
complete whiteout. As far as I could see the radar altimeter
was the only thing with even the vaguest notion of where the
ground was. It was pretty clear we didn't know where we were
so the pilot gunned the engines and spiralled up to 5,000
feet, so at least we could see where the mountains were (everywhere,
basically). We then swung out to sea and came in for a second
approach, this time at 500 feet. I even got to see my first
penguins! (Well, they might have been minature nuns but I
think they were penguins.) However the low fog got us again
while we were still 9 miles out from the runway, so there
was nothing for it but to head back to McMurdo.
We'll
try again tomorrow at 5:30. The same fog also caused the incoming
Hercules from Christchurch to turn back, so there will be
no northbound flight tomorrow. Jill (who arrived from Pole
this afternoon) and Jess
will be stuck here a while longer.
The
film "Mad Max II" has recently been mentioned in
these dispatches, and so I was amused when leaving through
an issue of the Sierra Club magazine to find that it was given
a "thumbs up" rating for its positive portrayal
of environmental issues. It just goes to show that you don't
need to hug a tree to be a greenie.
John
Tuesday 25th Jan:
McMurdo
From Jill.......
Back
in McMurdo! The weather is noticeably warmer and it is nice
to get out of my big boots and wear normal clothes again (i.e.
without zippers and velcro!). As soon as we arrived the rumours
started about cancelled flights and priority lists. Jess and
John are still here, awaiting the next flight out. Jess and
I spent the day playing basketball, doing washing and in the
sauna. We were quite surprised to hear a flight scheduled
for tomorrow had our names on the manifest. What we were about
to find out was that I had priority 60, Jess had 61 and John
had 62 (out of a maximum of 65). This not only confused us,
but several other people who had been "bumped" from
previous flights (with a priority of 1 and 2) now found themselves
with a priority of 65 and 58 respectively! We gave up trying
to work out the logic behind it and began to pack. With 65
people we knew the flight was not going to be pretty. Jess
and I decided that the best tactic to survive the flight was
to stay up all night in the hope that we could lie all over
cargo and sleep on it the whole way back (and yes John we
were studying problems in Electrodynamics...oh wait, does
beer count?).
We also walked
around to "Huts point", where Scott's hut is still
standing. We were trying to spot whales, but alas they were
nowhere to be seen. The final flight manifest went up at 5am
- we were annoyed, but not surprised to find they had cut
the list at 60...which meant I was going and Jess and John
were staying (how is that fair?). John as well as a few others
eventually made the flight and after a few "mechanical
problems" we were in the air and bound for the grass,
darkness and fresh food and beer of Christchurch!
From John Storey......
Today
began at 5:30 am when I rang the pilots to find out if we
were going. Unfortunately they didn't know themselves, because
for some reason all contact with Terra Nova Bay (BTN) had
been lost. It wasn't until 8:30
that we finally got through, and found that the weather there
was just like it was in McMurdo---perfect.
We
jumped into the shuttle van and headed out to Williams Field,
collecting Jack Sayers (formerly logistics Manager for the
Australian Antarctic Division and now Director or COMNAP)
from Scott Base along the
way.
I
had mentioned to the pilot how much I'd enjoyed the low-level
flight the previous day, so before taking off he asked me
if I'd like to go lower this time. I said: "Sure. How
low are we allowed to fly?", to which he replied simply
"How low would you like to go?" We settled on 500
feet.
Pre-flight
formalities were minimal, in stark contrast to the Hercules
flights where you typically have to hang around for hours,
climb on, sit around for yonks and then climb off again, only
to repeat the process a couple of hours later. With the Twin
Otter it was just a matter of walking up to the aircraft,
lobbing the hand-carry in, and starting the engines. The main
problem was deciding which seat to sit in.
Breaking
the skis free from the ice was a moderately dramatic exercise,
which involved giving full throat to the engines and rocking
the elevators up and down over their full travel so the aircraft
see-sawed up and down. It suddenly broke free and took off
like a turpentine cat, before being reined back to taxi sedately
across to the skiway.
The
flight to BTN was perfect, taking just 90 minutes in crystal
clear conditions. From 500 feet we could see every penguin
and seal along the way, and the scenery was just spectacular.
However
coming across the ice towards the landing strip at BTN the
pilot adjusted his seat belt very tight and advised us to
the same, on account of "turbulence". Shortly later
the plane was being thrown all over the sky, but somehow managed
to weave up the narrow valley between the mountains. Suddenly
the pilot stood the plane on its wingtip and did an extraordinarily
tight U-turn, then started dropping out of the sky at an alarming
rate. We hit the ground surprisingly gently, considering the
speed we were going, and pulled up in what seemed like just
a few feet with the help of an enormous blast of reverse thrust.
When we climbed out the folk on the ground were desperately
trying to reload their cameras and were discussing who'd managed
to get the best shot. Apparently it was one of the most spectacular
approaches and cross-wind landings they'd seen in a while---the
wind was at exactly 90 degrees to the skiway and 24 knots
gusting to 40.
A
small group of French and Italian folk then climbed aboard,
and the Twin Otter took off for McMurdo again by flying *across*
the strip, getting airborne in no time.
We
were then introduced to an amiable New Zealand helicopter
pilot who led us to a beautiful little French-made Squirrel.
Within minutes we were airborne again, lifting up above the
steep sides of the valley. From that vantage point I could
see just how narrow the valley was and was very glad we didn't
push our luck with yesterday's landing.
We
flew across the ridge and then dropped down in to the BTN
station, to be met by the station manager and Head of the
Italian Antarctic Program, Mario Zuchelli. For the next four
hours he treated us to a tour of the station, followed by
an excellent Italian lunch with fresh lettuce and tomato and
*real* coffee. We had a long discussion about Dome C and our
future plans there, and made a lot of progress towards what
I think is going to be a very valuable relationship. There
seems to be no obstacle to taking the sub-millimetre tipper
to Dome C next summer.
BTN
station is in the most beautiful location, with weather-worn
rocks all around, a steep snow-covered ridge behind and a
clear blue sea in front. In the distance, Mount Melbourne
(2,700m) towers above the station in much the way Erebus does
at McMurdo. Most of the station has fairly unarresting architecture,
being constructed from shipping contatiners all joined together.
However just above the station are three new buildings which
look like Tyrolean ski-lodges, adding a surreal touch to this
lovely place.
By
the way, I asked the pilot how they get an unpressurised Twin
Otter into Dome C, which is at some 12,000 feet pressure altitude.
The answer seems to be that you fly at 800 feet above the
snow and breath oxygen from time to time.
Halfway
through the visit Paolo called up from the South Pole on the
HF SSB radio to discuss a problem with the epoxy we had used
on our optical fibres. I could hear Paolo very clearly (I
think they have 10kW at Pole), but with only 1kW from BTN
he was having a some difficulty hearing me. I was busting
to tweak the antenna tuner but there didn't seem to be any
knobs to turn. Modern transmitters are no fun. Nevertheless
we had a useful chat. At the end of the visit we climbed once
more into the Squirrel, did a slow orbit of the station, and
lifted up and over the ridge to drop down into the valley
where the airstrip is. A short time later the Twin Otter arrived
(no drama this time) but announced on landing that the hydraulic
pump had busted. I thought we were going to have to spend
the night in BTN, but unfortunately the pilot said he didn't
really need a hydraulic pump because all it did was work the
flaps and stuff, so we all piled in and flew back to McMurdo.
Thank
you, Paolo, for organising the visit. It was great, and very
useful.
I'm
currently scheduled to fly to Christchurch tomorrow with the
New Zealand Airforce (do I really want ot fly with an outfit
whose symbol is a flightless bird?) However, my priority number
is 62 out of 65 passengers, so there's a fair probability
I'll be "bumped".
John
Thursday
27th Jan: The story stops here...
After
arriving last night, we handed in all our ECW gear, headed
straight for our respective hotels - in the shower and then
on to the "Dux-de-lux"! We longed for fresh fruit,
vegetables, fish and beer - all of which can be found in abundance
at the "Dux". The "Dux" is a regular meeting
place of Antarctic travellers and at any one time, you can
find at least 5 people either going to or returning from the
Ice (trust me they stand out!).
After having our
fair share of excellent food (and a bit of mud cake) we walked
around Christchurch, enjoying the dark, the warm weather and
the stars! Unlike several other people I had travelled with,
I was only gone 2 weeks, but still missed the trees, the fragrances
in the air and especially the stars! Jess is still waiting
in McMurdo and is scheduled (with hopefully a higher priority)
for the flight on Friday, at which point we will gather our
things together, get some photos developed (watch these pages
in the next weeks), hire a car and head for the best hot springs
and cocktails NZ has to offer!!
Just before I
finish, I'd like to thank the NSF/CARA and the UNSW for giving
me the opportunity to go the South Pole - a memorable experience
that I'm sure will be a hard act to follow (although Jess
and I will do our utmost to try in the following weeks!).
Thanks also to John, Andre, Paolo and Jess for being great
to work with and to Michael Ashley for being our "sea-level
brain".
Hope you enjoyed the
diaries.
Cheerio
Jill
:)
1st
February 2000
From
John Storey.......
This
will be the final email from me for this trip. I am writing
it as I fly Qantas across the Tasman from Christchurch to
Sydney on the final leg of my journey home.
Yesterday
(Australia Day) was a very on-again, off-again sort of day.
The drama started the previous evening when we received our
"priority numbers" for Wednesday's flight to Chch.
Sixty-five lucky people were listed to fly---Jill, Jess and
I were allocated 60, 61 and 62 respectively. The only problem
was that there are only 60 seats the Hercules, and then only
if there are no head winds, additional cargo or last minute
crises of confidence that make the pilot decide to hurl a
few more passengers off the list. So we were pretty confident
we were all going to get "bumped". I
went off to bed, while Jill and Jess decided to stay up all
night. Being concientious students I guess they were= working
through problems in Jackson's "Electrodynamics".
At 6 am I wandered down to check the manifest and sure enough,
Jess and I were bumped but remarkably Jill was still on. So
I went back to bed again.
I
was woken an hour later by people in the corridor yelling
in Italian and German. This pleased me none, so I lay staring
up at the ceiling thinking what an awful place McMurdo was
to be stuck in and wondering if I should revise my uncharacteristically
ambivalent glossary entry for it, possibly along the lines
of it being one of the few justifiable uses for thermonuclear
missiles.
This
ungenerous train of thought was shattered a moment later when
the phone rang. Could I be ready to leave in six minutes?
I shoved everything in my carry-on and said a quick farewell
to Robbo, my room-mate. (Robbo is the South Pole winter-over
doctor this year, who was "enjoying" a week's R&R
in McMurdo. He's known at South Pole as "Robo-doc".)
I was picked up by a van (service! Normally you have to stagger
up the hill to board the bus) and whisked directly out to
the Pegasus ice runway where a wheeled Hercules of the New
Zealand Air Force was waiting. Two other folk, neither of
whom was Jessica, were also with us, having also been "un-bumped".
So
everything was looking pretty good for getting on the plane.
Apparently three of the Italians had failed to check in on
time and so, after efforts to locate them failed (I guess
that's what all the yelling in the corridor was about), they
were crossed off and we were substituted. Rumours started
to circulate that we had duct-taped them to their beds, but
this is completely untrue.
Then
things went bad again as the New Zealander's decided there
was something wrong with a wheel strut, and it would
take a couple of hours to fix. So we hung about out at Pegasus
and finally boarded, and then they decided one engine didn't
have enough oil so we sat on the plane for another hour and
ten minutes, and then finally just as I was certain we were
all about to driven back to McMurdo and some of us replaced
by Italians, we took off.
So
that was more or less it for yesterday. On arriving in Christchurch
I discovered my luggage hadn't arrived, but Jessica's had.
I guess I can live without mine for a couple of days, but
I fear Jess is by now getting thoroughly sick of McMurdo and
that her mood will not be improved by the knowledge that most
of clothes are currently orbiting the baggage carousel at
Christchurch airport. She should be able to escape in a day
or two. We can only speculate on why
they couldn't contact her at 7:15 am yesterday. Perhaps she
was in the shower. Perhaps she was crying so loudly she
couldn't hear the phone. We may never know.
Jessica
will be glad to know that Jill and Von and I toastedher good
health in the Dux Deluxe last night.
Farewell
till next time,
John
 

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