Hey hey just a quick post to let you all know that I'm fit and healthy and appear to have lost a huge 500 grams since I did my medical in Canberra. I was probably just dehydrated. So much for the idea the everyone puts on weight down here. Well, I won't speak so soon; bring on the Winter! Yes, we had our first montly medicals this week, which was the combination of a brief physical exam and a brief check-in to evaluate our psychological state. I hear there are some who feel trepidation at the prospect of spending the Winter here. I can understand that, but I'm dealing pretty well with the prospect at this stage. It's a crazy thought, but not overwhelming.
Yesterday, after staying up quite late and having a few drinks in bar to celebrate the head marine scientist, Cath's, birthday. I slightly slept in, awaking to a view of the dark blue ocean outside my bedroom window. Amazing! When I had gone to bed, the sea was frozen solid. Where did it all go? Check out this timelapse video of the sea ice wandering off to explore the southern ocean.
Today we're installing the new laser for the Lidar that I run. My boss is over there right now installing temperature sensors, and when it's done, were going to burn brown spots into bits of paper to see the shape of the laser beam. We run the paper through the pulsing laser light and the clacking noise that it makes as each laser pulse hits the paper and leaves a burn is actually above the pain threshold of hearing. Nice. I hope I never put my hand in front of that beam!
I've started a Spanish discussion group, and had a fair bit of interest. In addition to me, 7 people showed up. I'm going to send out some material for all of us to study this weekend so we can actually start speaking in Spanish next Tuesday. I figure it beats all of us sitting in our rooms studying books and listening to tapes alone.
I should go. I'm at work. Photos to come soon. Now to try and upload this video...
Friday, December 18, 2009
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Walk to Watts Hut
So I just returned for a walk across the Vestfold Hills to Watts Hut, a small field hut about 10km from the station. This was my first walk across the rocky and lifeless hills around the station.
I didn't know that I would be going on this walk. While I was in the mess at lunch yesterday I got talking to the friendly forecaster, Manfred, about this walk that he was planning to take once he'd finished eating.
Now, I still had it in my mind that I needed to complete a walk over the rocks in order to finalise my field training. Once my field training is finalised, I can venture out further by myself, so I was pretty keen. Not only that, I can also join in on trips arranged by 'trip leaders'; those who have a lot of experience with walking in the area and are able to arrange trips.
I asked Manny if he wouldn't mind me joining them our their sojourn across the dry rocks and icy fjords between here and Watts Hut. Roland and he agreed that it would be fine. I cleared it with Klucky, my boss, and I was good to go. Just had to get an ice axe and some poo bags first...
I should probably explain that the AAD strives to have a minimal impact on the environment here, and that pee bottles and poo bags are exactly as they sound, with us bringing our waste back to station to be dealt with here. Either that or we can pour our pee down cracks in the ice near the shore.
An hour later, armed with my backpack, GPS, radio, ice axe, poo bags and pee bottle we were on our way. We walked east around an iced-over Heidemann Bay, following its shores as it curved around to the south. Roland and Manny were good company and we discussed much as we steadily made our way across the boulder-strewn hills.
As we walked, I learnt from my friends. To my horror, I was informed that there is a rat living inside of me and every other man, gnawing away, that must be fed on a regular basis. I learnt that if the rat is neglected; if you forget to feed him, then he will gnaw away at your insides until you're nothing like the man you once were. Manny knew all about the rat. He knew that the only way to feed the rat is to get out and experience new things; to have adventure in your life. I liked this idea, and as I learnt about the rat, I realised that I was feeding him at the same time.
The weather on this day, as I later said in the situation report back to station, was 8 octants of cloud (ie. overcast skies), but fine and still. It was nice and cool, but really nothing like you may imagine Antarctica to be. As we walked it felt quite hot, and we had to stop and peel off layers at one point.
We progressed towards some old glacier-formed valleys known as the portals, that would allows us easy walking toward our destination. The landscape in the hills remained quite similar as we walked. One of us likened it the surface of Mars, and we all agreed on that. It really is striking how there is next-to-no life down here. 'A big dead place', I've heard it called, and that observation seems ever more accurate. It is beautiful, though, in its simplicity. I'll try to get some photos of this up soon enough. Rocks, ice, snow, and sky pretty much sums it up though.
Past the portals and we came to a realtively high peak with the name of Tarbuk Crag. I dunno what a crag is but that word sounds about as pretty as an arthritic knee, and it was kind of large. I wondered about climbing it until someone suggested it, along with the stroke of genius that we should drop our packs before we climb. So that's exactly what we did. We got to the top fairly easily, and were blessed with an amazing view of the Vestfolds. We could even see Davis, many kilometres away, at the edge of the hills before the sea-ice.
Tarbuk Crag is one of the tallest peaks in the Vestfolds, so they've put a radio repeater on the top. Up-close, it was about as interesting as a coathanger, so we continued to entertain ourselves in other ways. After taking photos for evidence, Roland randomly let out an almighty coo-ee. I heard it echo and didn't think much of it, but Roland told us to be quiet and did it again. This time we heard an amazing amount of sound reflection bouncing through the hills. That coo-ee must have echoed for over five seconds, coming back to us from all directions, with different levels of volume. It really found its way to some strange places before it returned back to our ears. The only explanation I have is that the rocky hills are so bare that the sound doesn't get attenuated by the vegetation that we're used to seeing on hillsides. It's just amazing how long that sound remains to bounce by in all directions.
We then had a short-lived argument about whether one should add or subtract the difference between grid-north and magnetic-north when translating from compass to map. Logic prevailed and we set off in the right direction.
We descended back down, grabbed our packs and headed for Ellis Fjord - the frozen estuary across which lies Watts Hut. This was the last leg of our journey. We made it the hut without any problems. Notable on the way was a solitary penguin. You see these guys all the time. In fact it's hard to get anywhere near a frozen piece of water without bumping into one. They're almost definitely spying on us. The little dude quacked at us, so Roland made a penguin-like noise back. The penguin responded. I made another noise sort of like a retarded penguin. The penguin responded. We all realised then that we were actually talking to a penguin. Nice. We kept it going for a while. None of us knew that they responded like that. It was cool.
After the long walk we holed-up in the hut with some cheese, chocolate and red wine. Yep, just like Shackleton and Mawson; real Antarctic expedioners roughing it. we stayed up for a little while longer, chatted for a bit, and then went to bed, reasonably tired. I read Survivor by Chuck Palahniuk by the light of a head-torch for a little while before my eyes grew heavy and I drifted off to dulcet sounds of Manny snoring.
We left the hut the next morning at about 9am and headed back onto the frozen Fjord. We headed further west down the Fjord, past where we entered on the previous day and on towards some small 'apples' that are near a protected site called Marine Plains. I hear rumour there's a 2 million year-old dolphin there. That's pretty amazing. He must be pretty wise. Apples are small red spherical fibreglass huts that must have been choppered in there during the 70's. I guess they're a pretty easy way to set up a field stop in Antarctica. We dropped in there for a cuppa, which was nice.
We finished our cuppa and left the hut, about half the way back to Davis now. There wasn't that much more that stands out in my mind, except for a beautiful view from a peak that we climbed just as we left the fjord. We could see the hills all around us, and the line where they meet the sea ice. From there we had a nice perspective of the many icebergs that litter the horizon around Davis Station. We stayed there for 5 minutes and then walked for another hour across land, and a very rotten but still iced-over Heidemann Bay, before we reached the station again.
I was rostered on for Saturday duties this evening, and vacuumed the lower floor of the sleeping quarters after I got back. I finished that and started this, and the rest is history.
I'm going to go now and start to get myself ready for Saturday dinner. Last week it was duck in plum sauce and garlic prawns. Very nice. I'm bloody hungry and can't wait. I'll post again soon...
I didn't know that I would be going on this walk. While I was in the mess at lunch yesterday I got talking to the friendly forecaster, Manfred, about this walk that he was planning to take once he'd finished eating.
Now, I still had it in my mind that I needed to complete a walk over the rocks in order to finalise my field training. Once my field training is finalised, I can venture out further by myself, so I was pretty keen. Not only that, I can also join in on trips arranged by 'trip leaders'; those who have a lot of experience with walking in the area and are able to arrange trips.
I asked Manny if he wouldn't mind me joining them our their sojourn across the dry rocks and icy fjords between here and Watts Hut. Roland and he agreed that it would be fine. I cleared it with Klucky, my boss, and I was good to go. Just had to get an ice axe and some poo bags first...
I should probably explain that the AAD strives to have a minimal impact on the environment here, and that pee bottles and poo bags are exactly as they sound, with us bringing our waste back to station to be dealt with here. Either that or we can pour our pee down cracks in the ice near the shore.
An hour later, armed with my backpack, GPS, radio, ice axe, poo bags and pee bottle we were on our way. We walked east around an iced-over Heidemann Bay, following its shores as it curved around to the south. Roland and Manny were good company and we discussed much as we steadily made our way across the boulder-strewn hills.
As we walked, I learnt from my friends. To my horror, I was informed that there is a rat living inside of me and every other man, gnawing away, that must be fed on a regular basis. I learnt that if the rat is neglected; if you forget to feed him, then he will gnaw away at your insides until you're nothing like the man you once were. Manny knew all about the rat. He knew that the only way to feed the rat is to get out and experience new things; to have adventure in your life. I liked this idea, and as I learnt about the rat, I realised that I was feeding him at the same time.
The weather on this day, as I later said in the situation report back to station, was 8 octants of cloud (ie. overcast skies), but fine and still. It was nice and cool, but really nothing like you may imagine Antarctica to be. As we walked it felt quite hot, and we had to stop and peel off layers at one point.
We progressed towards some old glacier-formed valleys known as the portals, that would allows us easy walking toward our destination. The landscape in the hills remained quite similar as we walked. One of us likened it the surface of Mars, and we all agreed on that. It really is striking how there is next-to-no life down here. 'A big dead place', I've heard it called, and that observation seems ever more accurate. It is beautiful, though, in its simplicity. I'll try to get some photos of this up soon enough. Rocks, ice, snow, and sky pretty much sums it up though.
Past the portals and we came to a realtively high peak with the name of Tarbuk Crag. I dunno what a crag is but that word sounds about as pretty as an arthritic knee, and it was kind of large. I wondered about climbing it until someone suggested it, along with the stroke of genius that we should drop our packs before we climb. So that's exactly what we did. We got to the top fairly easily, and were blessed with an amazing view of the Vestfolds. We could even see Davis, many kilometres away, at the edge of the hills before the sea-ice.
Tarbuk Crag is one of the tallest peaks in the Vestfolds, so they've put a radio repeater on the top. Up-close, it was about as interesting as a coathanger, so we continued to entertain ourselves in other ways. After taking photos for evidence, Roland randomly let out an almighty coo-ee. I heard it echo and didn't think much of it, but Roland told us to be quiet and did it again. This time we heard an amazing amount of sound reflection bouncing through the hills. That coo-ee must have echoed for over five seconds, coming back to us from all directions, with different levels of volume. It really found its way to some strange places before it returned back to our ears. The only explanation I have is that the rocky hills are so bare that the sound doesn't get attenuated by the vegetation that we're used to seeing on hillsides. It's just amazing how long that sound remains to bounce by in all directions.
We then had a short-lived argument about whether one should add or subtract the difference between grid-north and magnetic-north when translating from compass to map. Logic prevailed and we set off in the right direction.
We descended back down, grabbed our packs and headed for Ellis Fjord - the frozen estuary across which lies Watts Hut. This was the last leg of our journey. We made it the hut without any problems. Notable on the way was a solitary penguin. You see these guys all the time. In fact it's hard to get anywhere near a frozen piece of water without bumping into one. They're almost definitely spying on us. The little dude quacked at us, so Roland made a penguin-like noise back. The penguin responded. I made another noise sort of like a retarded penguin. The penguin responded. We all realised then that we were actually talking to a penguin. Nice. We kept it going for a while. None of us knew that they responded like that. It was cool.
After the long walk we holed-up in the hut with some cheese, chocolate and red wine. Yep, just like Shackleton and Mawson; real Antarctic expedioners roughing it. we stayed up for a little while longer, chatted for a bit, and then went to bed, reasonably tired. I read Survivor by Chuck Palahniuk by the light of a head-torch for a little while before my eyes grew heavy and I drifted off to dulcet sounds of Manny snoring.
We left the hut the next morning at about 9am and headed back onto the frozen Fjord. We headed further west down the Fjord, past where we entered on the previous day and on towards some small 'apples' that are near a protected site called Marine Plains. I hear rumour there's a 2 million year-old dolphin there. That's pretty amazing. He must be pretty wise. Apples are small red spherical fibreglass huts that must have been choppered in there during the 70's. I guess they're a pretty easy way to set up a field stop in Antarctica. We dropped in there for a cuppa, which was nice.
We finished our cuppa and left the hut, about half the way back to Davis now. There wasn't that much more that stands out in my mind, except for a beautiful view from a peak that we climbed just as we left the fjord. We could see the hills all around us, and the line where they meet the sea ice. From there we had a nice perspective of the many icebergs that litter the horizon around Davis Station. We stayed there for 5 minutes and then walked for another hour across land, and a very rotten but still iced-over Heidemann Bay, before we reached the station again.
I was rostered on for Saturday duties this evening, and vacuumed the lower floor of the sleeping quarters after I got back. I finished that and started this, and the rest is history.
I'm going to go now and start to get myself ready for Saturday dinner. Last week it was duck in plum sauce and garlic prawns. Very nice. I'm bloody hungry and can't wait. I'll post again soon...
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Two Weeks to Go
So there's only two weeks until we ship out on the Aurora Australis; the Orange Roughy; that big orange boat that hangs out at the docks in Hobart.
Adam and I agree that the time has passed extremely quickly. I feel as if the departure date has snuck up on us, its imminence was brought home today, being the cut-off date for our larger allotted cargo consignment. All of us expeditioners on V1 are now left with a meagre 30kg of baggage to live from for the next two weeks plus the 12 days of the voyage down.
Things here are good. I have been doing a lot of interesting training. Highlights have been forklift operation, chainsaw operation and maintenance, and 6 days of firefighting training. Firefighting was excellent!
I'll write more later. I have to go to a manual handling course in 5 mins that was provocatively labelled 'man handling' on the training schedule. Bit suss.
Cheers.
Adam and I agree that the time has passed extremely quickly. I feel as if the departure date has snuck up on us, its imminence was brought home today, being the cut-off date for our larger allotted cargo consignment. All of us expeditioners on V1 are now left with a meagre 30kg of baggage to live from for the next two weeks plus the 12 days of the voyage down.
Things here are good. I have been doing a lot of interesting training. Highlights have been forklift operation, chainsaw operation and maintenance, and 6 days of firefighting training. Firefighting was excellent!
I'll write more later. I have to go to a manual handling course in 5 mins that was provocatively labelled 'man handling' on the training schedule. Bit suss.
Cheers.
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