Antarctica!!

"Great God, this is an awful place!" ...Robert F. Scott

Bowling, Vignettes, Notes, Capturing a Crown Jewel

Hey, we even have a bowling alley here! I shot a game and purposely chose the worse lane (it actually is bowed a bit and balls have a tendency to do weird things on it.) Nevertheless I shot a 116. Beginner’s luck!! What a bloody racket!

Brunswick is trying to get the NSF to sell the two lanes as they are the last manually pin-set lanes in the world. They would gladly exchange the antiques for new lanes except if the new ones ever broke down no one could fix them. The antique lanes, however have almost no moving parts and the workers manually set the pins after every roll.

On the worse lane, where the floor meets the foul line, some of the alley’s boards are higher than the floor. On one of my releases the ball got out of my hand a bit quicker than I expected, hit that exact spot, went bounding into the air and bouncing down the alley eventually rolling into the gutter.

Vignettes

The first belongs to a guy named Joel. He’s been down here several years and when I asked him what he does while back home he replied that he played music. He’s a guitarist that concentrates on blues. He used to be in a band with a guy named Curt Salgado. Curt’s band name was the Stilettos. Joel told me Curt used to play with the Robert Cray band and that he was the inspiration for the Blues Brothers when John Belushi was in his town filming Animal House. Curt is now in the Portland area and Joel wants to try to move out there from his current home in Long Beach and possibly hook up with him, rejoining the band.

Another interesting profile here is Claire. She currently works as a utility GA. She’s shown up for a couple of our theatre group meetings and lately I’ve been able to get more info on her background. Currently she is jack hammering a two foot wide trench, two feet deep around our two new fuel storage tanks so as to extend the protective barrier.

Turns out that last year was a "beaker." --our shorthand for a scientist! She spent five weeks here last year in a biology experiment. She was doing her Master’s work and now has a Master’s in the subject wanting to find a college to teach in.

Her experiment dealt with how proteins in the fish here and their abilities to reconstitute and repair themselves when exposed to warmer temperatures.

She told me that amino acids are a long string which when properly folded together make up a protein. They have sticky sides that attach to other strings of amino acids and create the proteins which then turn themselves inside out and into a "ball" obscuring their "sticky" side and keeping other amino acid strings from bonding to them so as to maintain their properties.

She gave the example of an egg. The normal proteins that make it up are constructed such that they appear to be a gelatinous mass. Once boiled or exposed to high temps the proteins unroll and RE-form back into an amino acid string with their sticky parts exposed once again. Having this happen then permits other amino acids to cling and form other than normal protein strings. Which explains why when boiled, eggs whites turn hard. (at least I think I have that right!)

In any case, her experiment dealt with determining whether or not the cod here had to ability to survive if their body temperatures were raised or whether or not evolution had "taught" them to forget that process.

A year later, she’s back as a GA! Granted, her boyfriend is a beaker and she’s here because he is but nevertheless………

We also have a geologist on station working in the galley; we have a full fledged doctor working as a physician’s assistant, and a retired full colonel working as a utility GA.

Then I met Ben Muir who works in the fire department. He is a direct descendant of John Muir, the environmentalist and founding father of the Sierra Club.

On a more disturbing note, you have to wonder if maybe a bit of psychological profiling needs to be done before people get assigned to the Ice especially when there are people that believe we have aliens in our midst.

The big talk of the town centered around the supposed arrival of alien space ships at McMurdo to pick up a town resident and take him back with them.

Say what? Aliens in McMurdo? Will the Ice runway support the weight of the ship? Are they green? Do they have cold weather gear? Are they related to the whales here?   Just what the hell is going on?

When I first heard this, I gave a dumb-ass blank look at the person relating the story to me. Was he putting me on?

Turns out people were gathered outside at noon pointing to various parts of the sky looking for the Mother Ship. Posters were posted in the galley (and rapidly torn down—I suspect by the shrink.) Yes, we’re getting closer and closer to what really happened.

Seems all this was a figment of AGO Jack’s delusional imagination. Oh yeah, we had one crack up on us.

The gossip was that he was WAYYyyyyy out there before he even got here. AGO Jack, you say?

Um Hum. He was also called 10,000 mile stare Jack. He was the guy who'd go around trying to get you to tell him about your dreams.  He's the guy who thought dreams would be more intense out here in the wide open, non-polluted areas of Antarctica. He actually gave a presentation on it!  And when he did so, people actually left because he was so "out there" with his views.

He’d done and said a couple of squirrelly things and was sent to Christchurch for a psyche eval. That’s extraordinarily unusual for a summer season person. He returned, got weird, and was immediately assigned a "watcher" and then escorted off the station, onto an airplane and back to the states.

Man, oh, man, we get all kinds here.

General Notes and Observations

This, the beginning of my 10th full week on station, started out easily and innocently enough. Only 25 more days until Y2K! It is so hard to begin to imagine that another year is close to expiring yet I am excited about the prospects of beginning a new century.

Monday night we had a special showing of the movie, "90 Degrees South." It was filmed in the early 1900s by the voyage’s photographer, Ponting, and only after almost 20 years was a voice track added (as that technology did not exist at the time of filming.)

What a great movie full of scenes depicting what life was like for the early explorers. Fantastic footage of penguins, sled dogs, and the routine of daily activities. There are also images of ice caves and other Antarctic wildlife.

Outdoors, though, we can tell summer is here; or at least signs that summer is approaching: the ice runway closes this week and all trips to Cape Evans are now cancelled. Next week all trips to Cape Royds will be terminated, too. The ice is becoming dangerous to heavy vehicles and although it is still several feet thick, the tidal action and warmth will soon have big chunks of it cracking off the shelf.

We’re getting lots more runoff, too. The rivulets are running deeper and faster and wider. Plus I can see big bulldozers (I mean, BIG!) crawling up the hillsides pushing snow around and trying to get it down closer to the base and to the exit routes for melt-off.

One of the Crown Jewels

I almost couldn’t believe it! A trip to Cape Royds!! When a co-worker first mentioned it to me, she said it was for us in the office plus a couple of others.

As far as I am concerned, Royds is one of the four jewels making up the crown of activities someone can hope to go one while stationed here. The other three are a trip to the Dry Valleys, a trip to the top of Erebus and a trip to the South Pole. Granted, some people’s jobs just naturally take them out to these places but the average jamoke here never goes anywhere. Three other activities either are fairly readily available of not that interesting: a trip to "Room With a View" which is a camping trip to the foot of Erebus. This one is really good if the weather is clear. Other than that it is nothing more than a day off. The others are "Happy Camper School" where we get to go camping overnight on the ice and learn to build snow shelters and then sleep in them and the last is a trip on the ice breaker when it pulls into port. Almost everyone gets to go on a 4 hour cruise if they want to.

As for Royds, though, some folks have been here 4 years and still not had a chance to go. Thank goodness for this co-worker and her friends in the right places!!

The weather was picture perfect, as if God was rewarding us for our patience and appreciation of his grand wonders. There was absolutely no wind, the sun was shining brilliantly in the heavens, no clouds in the sky, and the temps were hovering around freezing. Incredibly awesome!!!

We meet our guide at 630 P.M. and proceeded to walk to the ice transition area to get our snow mobiles. I’d never ridden or driven a snowmobile so was a bit hesitant. We put our gear unto a couple of sledges, uncovered the machines, prepped them, and after a briefing by Ted, started them up. I took one for a test spin. It had one "ski" in front so to turn to the right I had to lean to the left. Absolutely counterintuitive and somewhat discombobulated me but I was able to pull it off. The other machines had two "skis" in the front and they handled normally.

The guide forgot to bring the keys to the hut at Cape Royds so while he went to get them, we had a snowball fight. I haven’t done that in a long time. Upon his return, we fired up the machines for departure. I was in the "sweep" position and therefore last. Of course, I just had to do it—I’d fall behind on purpose and when the group was about ¼ to ½ mile ahead I’d crank it up to see how fast it’d go. They must have been governed as the fastest speed I was able to get was 35 MPH. Cool enough for me, though!!

Had a great time scooting over the ice. Close to the base was a lot of snow cover but as we got further and further out, there was much less cover and we were running on the actual ice itself. That was where I was able to go the fastest. I got the hang driving these beasts soon enough. Along the way I tried driving it standing up, kneeling down, etc.

I even saw what looked like jet contrails (first time I’ve ever seen any down here!) Not sure what flights come this way or if it was a fluke but surprised me enough to comment on it.

We stopped at the very edge of the Barnes Glacier which runs off the Erebus tongue. Brilliant light blue colors made up this huge wall of ice in front of us. We just stood there listening to the water cascade off its face, melting quickly in the afternoon sun. Also heard water running underneath our feet!! Great cracks were visible in the ice and we can tell that soon the tidal action combined with warm weather will break up this shelf and reveal the several hundred foot deep water of the sound.

Scooting right along we passed the two deltas taking people to Cape Evans and as we went by I am certain we all felt a certain exhilaration at knowing we were about to do something they could not. A feeling of being special and privileged. Then we passed a group of three snow mobilers who’d been out to Royds and were returning. They included folks from the recreation center. While stopped we all started doing full frontal drop and slides on the ice to see who could go furthest. We’d line up, take off running (trying not to fall on our faces) and then launch ourselves onto the ice and slide headfirst. On our bellies just like penguins; doing the Adelie thing. What a hoot! If I had had a better parka, like the red nylon ones worn by most of the people, I'’ have been able to go a bit further but as it was, my carharts created too much drag. Great fun nevertheless.

Speaking of Deltas, there was so much more scenery visible to us in a snowmobile than on a Delta. While inside the cabin of that beast you have about 10 people fogging up the windows which immediately freeze and prohibit you from seeing anything else. Having the whole sky for my windshield was infinitely better.  Plus sometimes you get stuck in deep snow!

Our next stop was the Adelie penguin rookery. Since it was a Special Scientific Interest (SSI) area we needed to park our vehicles at the base of a hill and then climb that hill to descend into the cove where Shackleton built his hut. Then, over a small rise heading towards the water’s edge, displayed before us, was the rookery. Complete with a strong ammonia smell. Cute birds---but stinky. Had it been warmer, the smell would have been worse. Nevertheless, it was tolerable and the very last thing I’d ever complain about.

Located within the nesting area was a fenced off compound where scientists controlled the entry and exit of penguins in an effort to weigh how much food they were bringing to their offspring. Each bird had a chip embedded in it which identified that particular bird. When it left the compound it was scanned and weighed. When it reentered, the process was repeated. Of course, it is hard to control all the variables like weather and predators but scientists hope to gain more knowledge about how these creatures raise their young and prepare them for adulthood.

We could not get too close to the Adelies because of the SSI but thanks to my zoom lens I was able to get reasonably good shots. All around were skuas soaring and swooping, trying to invade the rookery, distract the penguins long enough to have them leave their nests and then steal the eggs left abandoned.

The Adelies, of course, were also engaged in their little rituals of protecting their nests and incubating their eggs. They were hilarious: yakking at one another, chasing one another from their territories; picking up pebbles and carrying them to their nests only to walk away for more and have someone steal what they just set down. This pebble finding effort is never ending and makes up part of their courtship ritual. Imagine, millennia of evolution resulting in this behavior!

You’d think they’d realize that after a while when they left their nest to pilfer someone else’s, that someone else would be pilfering theirs.

To read more about Adelies, see the Science Page.

But Mother Nature works in mysterious ways and this is her way of giving these creatures something to do to occupy their time. Plus Adelies are an excellent food source for leopard seals, "the most dangerous sea creature in the world: (this is much better said with a heavy, Arnold Shwarzenegger accent.

Some who’d say, "what’s the big deal about seeing a penguin up close?" or "I can get closer to a penguin in a zoo." True, but in a zoo the penguin is the creature confined. Here in Antarctica, we are the confined creatures attempting to live in an environment intimately familiar to the penguin. An environment that millions of years of evolution has adapted them to.

Walking around the area I saw a penguin skeleton and a dead skua. Also a dead baby penguin and the remains of eggs stolen by skuas. In true male fashion we played, like men will do, with the dead penguins, picking them up and having them "dance" and "walk." All the while we would be getting our photos taken. The women thought we were gross. What do they know? J

Coincidentally, almost a week later I found this story on the internet at the Antarctic Philately site that has so much info on the explorers: http://www.south-pole.com/homepage.html

Attacked by a Ferocious Leopard Seal

In the supremest of all ironies, it was the moment that Gareth Wood successfully finished his 1984-85 "In the Footsteps of Scott Antarctic Expedition" to the South Pole with Roger Mear and Robert Swan that his troubles began. For that very day, the support ship that would take him home succumbed to crushing pack ice and sank, leaving him and his fellow team members stranded in Antarctica for a second winter in a row. It was during these dark months, while hiking across frozen Backdoor Bay with companions Steve Broni and Tim Lovejoy, that Wood experienced the most harrowing few minutes of his life.

The going was easy and as I moved over the ice I had no idea that I was being stalked from beneath its surface.

Ahead was a working crack which was slightly more than one stride in width - too far to comfortably cross without jumping. It was covered with a very thin layer of unblemished ice. Innocently, I stepped closer. Would it hold my weight, I wondered, or would I have to jump? Stretching one foot down, I probed it with the tip of my crampon, much as I'd done with dozens of other working cracks in similar circumstances.

Suddenly, the surface erupted as the massive head and shoulders of a mature leopard seal, mouth gaping in expectation, crashed through the eggshell covering. It closed its powerful jaws about my right leg, and I fell backward, shocked and helpless in its vise-like grip. Feeling myself being dragged toward a watery grave, I locked my left crampon onto the opposing edge. I knew that once I was in the water, it would be all over.

"Help, help, Steve, Tim, help," I screamed repeatedly. It seemed an age before I finally caught sight of their running figures.

"Kick it, kick it, kick it, get the bloody thing off me, hurry, hurry for Christ's sake, you bastard, you bastard," I yelled hysterically, my gloved hands scrabbling fruitlessly for purchase on the smooth ice behind me as I strained against the seal's prodigious weight.

For one tiny fraction of a second our eyes met. These were not the pleading eyes of a Weddell seal nor the shy glance of a crabeater seal - they were cold and evil with intent. What fear the seal must have recognized in my own during this brief moment of communication, I can only imagine.

"Bloody hell, it's a leopard seal," Steve shouted breathlessly as he leapt across the crack to attack the brute from the opposite side.

"Get the bloody thing off me, kick it, for Christ's sake," I screamed again.

"Aim for its eye, its eye," Tim shouted, his voice verging on panic.

"Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!" Steve chanted in rhythm to his swinging boot.

"Get its eye, blind it," Tim shouted again.

I watched, dazed, as the front tines of Steve's cramponed boot made small, fleshy wounds in the side of the beast's head near its eye. Fifteen or 20 times his foot swung with crushing impact. Blood streamed from the wounds and spattered to the ice with each sickening smack of the boot. The impact of the violent attack vibrated through my body. Stubbornly, the beast continued to grip my leg, which appeared tiny in its jaw. I felt as powerless as a mouse caught by a cat.

"It's backing off," Tim shouted triumphantly as the seal suddenly released its hold and slipped slowly back beneath the surface.

Numbed, confused, and mesmerized by the concentric ripples slapping the edge of the bloodstained hole, I stared entranced at the spot where the frightening beast had disappeared.

"Quick, get him back from the edge," Tim gasped.

Arms had just grabbed me when the seal's monstrous form leapt once more from its watery lair. Lunging at me, it crossed the ice with an awkward gait, streams of bloody water cascading to the ice around it. Its large, interlocking teeth crushed down on my plastic boot.

"My God, we've blown it," I gasped. "Kick it, kick it, for Christ's sake, kick it," I shouted, the fear in my throat threatening to choke me.

"Its eye, get its eye," Steve shouted as he and Tim again booted its head with the lance-like front tines of their crampons.

Irrational thoughts carreered madly about my brain. What would the ice look like from beneath the surface? What would death be like? As if divorced from life already, I pictured the seal swimming down with my limp, red-coated body in its jaws. I could see pale, green sunlight filtering down through the ice as I descended into the gloom of certain oblivion. It all seemed so real, so peaceful - a silent movie with myself as the reluctant hero.

Tim's tugging at my shoulders pulled me swiftly back to reality - finally vanquished, the animal had retreated to its nether world. They skidded me quickly over the ice a safe distance from the crack. I stood up shakily.

"Lie down, let's have a look," Steve implored, motioning me down.

"No, I'm all right. Thank God it's not broken," I gasped, as I tested my wounded leg by stumbling backward, away from the terror I had just experienced. Glancing down at my torn clothing I saw blood on my leg - whether it was mine or the seal's I was not sure. I unzipped my outer Gore-Tex and fiber-pile pant.

"Oh my God," I trembled, horrified at the blood and puncture wounds on the front and back of my leg just below my knee.

Excerpted from South Pole: 900 Miles on Foot, by Gareth Wood with Eric Jamieson (Victoria, B.C., Canada: Horsdal & Schubart Publishers, 1996), pp. 178-180. For more information, see www.garethwood.com.

Cool story, eh?

It is true that these leopard seals are ferocious animals as depicted in the above story. I’ve seen film footage of Adelie seals hovering at the edge of an iceberg, afraid to jump in because a leopard seal was lurking nearby. Somewhat funny to watch how they’d look around at one another as if to say, "Hey, you going in? Go on! Go first and I’ll go right after you." After a while one would actually dive in and all of them would leap in, too. Of course, if a leopard seal was there, they’d be history.

There is also a really cool picture in the galley of all these Adelies sitting on an ice floe, way towards the back of it with a leopard seal at the forward edge waiting to make one of them his lunch.

Our guide gave us a great tour of the hut built by Shackleton’s men. We were able to see (here) and (here)what it might have been like to live in that hut almost 100 years ago as it had been restored.  His presentation was excellent and elaborated on many little details we’d never have heard about. Below are some of the notes he used for his presentation. Many "firsts" were attributed to this trip and they are also mentioned below and marked with asterisks.

Shackleton’s Nimrod Hut at Cape Royds

British Antarctic Expedition – 1907-1909

The men                          Age     Profession

Ernest H. Shackleton, 34 Anglo-Irish, Leader

Lt. Jameson B. Adams, 28 British, meteorologist, 2nd in Command

Professor T.E. Edgeworth David, 50 Australian, geologist

Dr. Eric S. Marshall, 29 British, chief surgeon, cartographer

Dr. Alistair F. Mackay, 30 Scottish, surgeon

Aeneas L. A. Mackintosh, 27 British, 2nd officer aboard Nimrod

James Murray, 43 Scottish, biologist

Douglas Mawson, 28 Australian, physicist

Raymond E. Priestley, 22 British, geologist

Sir Philip L. Brocklehurst, 21 British, assistant geologist

George E. Marston, 26 British, artist

Frank Wild, 35 British, in charge of provisions

Bernard C. Day, 24 British, electrician, motor expert

Edward E. M. Joyce, 33 British, in charge of dogs, equipment and scientific collections

Bertram Armytage, 39 Australian, general assistant

William C. Roberts, 36 British, cook

The transport

10 Manchurian ponies, of which 2 died on the Nimrod and 4 died in winter quarters at Cape Royds.

The 4 surviving ponies, Chinaman, Grisi, Quan and Socks, hauled sledges on the South Pole Journey. Three were shot for food. Socks, the final pony, died in a Beardmore Glacier crevasse fall.

9 Siberian Huskies, which, through litters, increased to 22. Only 8 dogs were used for Depot Journey in support of the returning South Pole Party. Only use of dogs in the entire expedition.

**** 1 Arrol-Johnston motor car, the first use of motorized transport in the Antarctic. Not a success.

Timeline

8/7/07 - Nimrod departs England after a Royal visit

1/1/08 - Nimrod departs Lyttelton, NZ, heavily loaded with only 3 ½’ of freeboard, towed by larger vessel Koonya

1/15/08 - Having weathered a gale and approaching pack ice, Koonya departs

1/29/08 - Unable to make land in the eastern Ross Sea, Shackleton returns to McMurdo Sound, breaking a promise he made to Scott to stay away from Ross Island.

**** 1/31/08 - Surgeons remove Mackintosh’s right eye, damaged in an accident unloading the ship. First surgery performed in the Antarctic.

2/3/08 - Shackleton decides on Cape Royds as his base. Unloading and hut construction begin.

2/22/08 - After much difficulty unloading, Nimrod departs for New Zealand.

3/5/08 - With hut finished, 6 men, pulling a 600 lb. sledge, begin attempt to climb Mt. Erebus.

**** 3/10/08 - 5 men reach summit of Erebus, the first ascent of an Antarctic peak. Brocklehurst, waylaid by frostbitten feet, does not summit. One big toe amputated 4/6/08.

**** 3/12/- 8/12/08 - Winter routine in the hut. Science programs carried out. Equipment for upcoming journeys prepped. Ponies groomed and exercised. Joyce worked with dogs. Aurora Australis, first book written and printed in the Antarctic, published.

8/12 - 10/13/08 - Southern depot journeys to Hut Point and onto the Ice Shelf in preparation for South Pole attempt.

10/5/08 - Magnetic South Pole Party, David, Mawson and Mackay, depart Royds, manhauling their sledge.

10/29/08 - South Pole Party, Shackleton, Marshall, Adams and Wild, depart Royds. Joyce, Armytage, Marston and Brocklehurst in support.

12/4/08 - Pole Party reaches foot of Beardmore Glacier, named by Shackleton in honor of the expedition’s chief financial backer, William Beardmore.

12/6/08 - Socks falls into a Beardmore crevasse, depriving expedition of hauling power and meat on the hoof.

12/09/08 – Western Party, Armytage, Priestley and Brocklehurst, depart Royds to study geology near the Dry Valleys.

1/5/09 - Nimrod returns to Cape Royds, Mackintosh rejoins Shore Party.

1/9/09 - Pole Party gets within 100 miles of Pole, turns around to avoid starvation.

1/15/09 - Joyce, Day, Marston and Mackintosh, with 8 dogs, begin Depot Journey for returning Pole Party.

**** 1/16/09 - Party reaches South Magnetic Pole, starving, frostbitten, hypothermic and nursing numerous injuries.

1/24/09 - Nimrod retrieves Western Party near Butter Point. Begins search for Magnetic Pole Party.

2/4/09 - Nimrod, searching 250 miles of dangerous coastline, finds Magnetic Pole Party by sheer Providence.

2/20/09 - Joyce finishes 2nd dog journey, the technically most impressive feat of the expedition, leaving a huge cache of food for returning Pole Party.

2/22/09 - Pole Party reaches Joyce’s food cache on brink of starvation.

2/27/09 - Marshall collapses with dysentery and exhaustion 33 miles from Hut Point. The other 3 are too weak to drag him. Shackleton had ordered the Nimrod to sail north on March 1.

2/27 - 3/3/09 - Leaving Adams to care for Marshall, Shackleton and Wild set out with no gear and little food to signal Nimrod before its departure. Succeeding in signaling the ship after much difficulty, Shackleton leads the Rescue Party, including Mawson, to get Marshall and Adams, covering some 100 miles in 5 days with almost no sleep.

3/4/09 - Nimrod departs McMurdo Sound, all souls safely aboard.

Summary:

**** The British Antarctic Expedition 1907-1909, under the command of Ernest Shackleton, claimed the first ascent of Mt. Erebus, the first journey to the South Magnetic Pole, the discovery of the Beardmore Glacier and came within 100 miles of reaching the Geographic South Pole. The Expedition did not lose a single man.

Shackleton’s record later inspired Raymond Priestley, a veteran of both Scott and Shackleton-led expeditions, to pen the immortal words, "As a scientific leader, give me Scott; for swift and efficient Polar travel, Amundsen; but when all is lost and it seems like there is no way out, get down on your knees and pray for Shackleton."

Later Expeditions and Restoration:

Later expeditions visited the hut, utilized stores kept there and stayed for brief periods but never occupied the hut for any length of time. Scott’s Terra Nova Expedition (1910-1914), based at Cape Evans, included among its members Raymond Priestley and Bernard Day. Shackleton’s Ross Sea Party off the Aurora (1914-1917), marooned at Cape Evans, included Aeneas Mackintosh and Edward Joyce. Shackleton himself returned to the area in January 1917 to rescue the surviving members of the Ross Sea Party.

The next recorded visit to the area was by the U.S. Navy icebreaker Burton Island in 1947, which found the hut full of snow and ice. Minimal restoration commenced in 1956 with the arrival of H.M.N.Z.S. Endeavour and in the summer of ‘60-’61, the New Zealand Antarctic Society did an extensive restoration. The hut is now maintained by the Antarctic Heritage Trust, a New Zealand-based organization formed in 1987 with the mission to "preserve and protect the historical heritage of human endeavour in Antarctica."

Antarctic Heritage Trust, Private Bag 4745, Christchurch, NZ; Information compiled by Ted Dettmar, U.S. Antarctic Program

Among the facts above are a couple of other tidbits: The naming of Beardmore Glacier is not clear whether it was done in honor of Beardmore himself or his wife, with whom Shackleton was having an affair.

It’s amazing to think how close all members came to losing their lives. When the ship came back in early February, it sailed up and down the coastline looking for the Magnetic Pole party. It was very foggy and they were preparing to give up when the first mate recommends to the captain that they passed a small cove obstructed by fog and an iceberg and that they should go back. They argued it for a while with the captain eventually acquiescing. They sailed back and the fog, having lifted, revealed a small cove. No sooner than they pulled in then they saw a small tent. It was the Magnetic Pole crew which had arrived just 2 hours earlier. Had the ship not turned back, they’d have died.

On Shackleton’s return from the Pole, his team was near death and the only hope was to make it to a supply depot and hope that food was there. On arrival they find a banquet of food left by Joyce, who was considered a "moron." Yet he was the man who trained and raised the dogs that saved Shackleton’s ass.

Having had our fill of the Hut, the "steenking" penguin rookery, the sun, the skuas and needing to get back, at about midnight we headed towards town (with a couple of detours along the way, of course!)

Firstly, we stopped at the iceberg trapped in the ice shelf. It floated into the sound last year and became trapped during the winter. We drove the skidoos right up to it and did some exploring. What a beautiful site! Part of it had split and had started to break off but was still attached at the bottom creating a "V" shape open at the top. We walked inside it to the other side of the iceberg but had to be careful as it was full of melt-off. Even around the iceberg there were big cracks where the ice is starting to go.

Almost through to the other side revealed a picture perfect frame of white, blue, and icicles looking out towards Razorback Island. Absolutely stunning!!

We all got our pictures taken in various poses and made our way to the opposite side where we found this small area to stand in and a big "lake" of runoff water that was very cold.

Then the highlight of the trip occurred. (names changed to protect the guilty)

Derrick makes a comment to Kristin about going swimming and she fires back some reply to which he makes some other comment. I missed most of it as I was looking the other way. Next thing I hear is some comment by Kristin to Derrick to take off his pants to which he raises the bar with her. Anyway, the next thing I know Derrick, Kristin, and Robert are stripping off their clothes and posing for pictures with just goggles and boots on!

Funny as hell.

It actually was very warm so they felt no cold but getting dressed was interesting in that they needed to be careful not to slip on the ice and fall into the pool of water.

Next stop was what I call "Icehenge." It is where someone had carved out huge blocks of ice and constructed a piece of sculpture remarkably and conceptually similar to Stonehenge (use your imagination here!)

A few Weddell seals were basking there, too and Robert got close to one and lay down on the ice mimicking its moves and sounds. The seal was in a place that allowed me to frame it for some decent shots (except I don’t know if they will come out either. To me it would be the utmost in wasted opportunities if I shot these photos at the wrong settings. I need to a new camera that’s more idiot proof. The older I get the more "idiot proof" I need stuff.

Now it is close to 1 AM and we will not make it back by 130 as originally thought so Ted, our guide and the author of the info on the Cape) calls in to say we’ll be back to 2.

What a sight our 5 machines made as we tore off across the ice, staggered in formation, the sun in front of us coursing its way North to East, snow flake trails rooster tailing behind each machine, reflecting the sun’s rays of light, all of us looking like animated cameos. I’ll never forget that sight---as well as many of the others tonight.

Arriving back on station at 2 AM we put the machines to bed, fueled them up and headed back to our rooms, radiant in our experiences and the fun we were privileged to have. It was approximately 230 when I made it to my dorm and for the day, I witnessed an almost full cycle of the sun across the sky having been up 21 hours. It’s one thing to see the sun filmed in a 360 degree circle as a film sequence but totally something else to see it with your own two eyes.

Awakening after 3.5 hours of sleep, I stumbled into the bathroom only to run into my boss. He asked how it went and all that flashed into my mind was what Kristin, Robert, and Derrick did. This mental image of their outrageous behavior kept running through my head on an endless, incredibly fast loop. Of course I could not talk about that resulting in my having a hard time keeping a straight face while telling him it was great, awesome, spectacular, etc. All very generic descriptions.

Really, now, Just how does a person keep a straight face when asked how the trip was all the while knowing full well 3 of your personnel stripped nekkid in Antarctica? I wish I wasn’t so self-conscience as these are the things that make the stay down here memorable---being able to take advantage of every moment; being outrageous.