Arrival to Palmer Station!

Day 4, 2130 hours.

Day four, and thankfully not Day 3 anymore.  Overall, Day 3 was not too bad, but I’m glad it’s done.  Glad I have my body feeling normal again.  We are only miles from the first Antarctica islands.  On the same chart with Shackleton’s Elephant Island.  It’s now just around freezing.  Snow has started to fall, some have seen icebergs.  I have seen seals.  We are getting close.  We’ll be there tomorrow at 1100 hours. 

Day 3 had 6-10 foot swells with some twelve footers.  The wind peaked in the morning at 60 knots (I think while I was asleep or trying to sleep).  The rolling, the pitching…as I lay in my bunk, with each big roll my internal organs would shift and then my mattress would follow.  I spent the day reading, watching a movie, sleeping.  I got on the rowing and bike machines during Day 2 for a good bit, but when I tried the bike machine again yesterday, after a few turns, I thought, I need to get off this thing. 

Most of the time, I loose track of time.  Not sure what day of the week, what day of the month, what time.  I eat, sleep, read, watch, and experiment with some electronics. 

PALMER STATION

I am now on the station, having safely made it here.  It is nice to be here, finally.  I awoke early on the last day to see the islands of the Antarctic.  They are beautiful. 

So now I have been here a week.  We’ve been collecting our gear and equipment, scouting our towers and antennas, doing trainings, and settling into the routine. 

The ship, and the noise of it’s generators, finally left this morning.  I partook of the tradition of when the ship leaves and is northbound, people jump off the pier into the water.  It is cold!  But then…to the hot tub!  Yes, Palmer Station has a hot tub.  It felt excellent and a dunk and a tub seemed to be an excellent way to start the day.

So far, it’s been grey and windy for all but one day that I’ve been south of Chile.  Icebergs float by.  Seals are our neighbors.  Today on my day off, I worked on my electronics kit (making an infrared sensor to alert me if my roommate beat me to bed in a dark room).  Then ran on the treadmill, skied up and down the glacier in the “back yard.”  Learned a bit about soldering from the comms guy.  Cleaned the kitchen (our turn for the week).  That’s about it.  Got to hit the sack soon. 

The beautiful conical monipole antenna.  We call it a Coni Moni.

Bye Bye! 

Just before jumping in!

Approaching the Drake

21 March 2014

Drake Passage

Day 1, 1900 hours

Smooth “sailing” so far.  I’ve taken a meclizine for the first time to keep the green faced sea sickness at bay.  I do get sea sick if in rough conditions.  It is miserable, indeed, and I want to be able to enjoy this passage as much as possible.  We’ve been underway for around 7 hours or so, very little rocking.  Maybe 5 degrees to one side or the other, maybe less.  We’ve had our safety briefing and even got to get into one of the little orange rescue boats that was featured in the movie Captain Philips.  I really hope I never have to get in one of those. 

And so I wonder, will it get really rough, is this the calm before the storm, or will it be like this?  I try my best to keep tabs on my body, to stay healthy and keep all systems working properly.  Anything to avoid being seasick.  There are many factors: food – type and amount, exercise, hydration, sleep.  Got to stay functional.  So far so good.  A run yesterday and this morning, granola for breakfast, rice and veggies for lunch and dinner with a little cheerios for snack.  Not too much, not to little, no sweets.  A nap this afternoon, and lots of water.  So far so good.  Tomorrow may be another story…

Most folks hang in their bunks or the lounge or take a quick visit outside while we still can.  Right now some folks are watching Anchorman 2 in the lounge as others read or check their email.  Not being part of the ship’s crew, we don’t really have work to do, and so the most important messages from the Chief Mate are Don’t get hurt, Take your sea-sickness meds, and Don’t leave the toilet running!  Basically our job seems to be survival. 

Day 2, 1700 hours.

We’re now almost to the Drake Passage.  Much of the day was beautifully sunny and calm.  Continued rollers from behind, gently roll under, gently roll through, little motion on the ship.  No placemats needed in the galley.  Sunny outside.  A bunch of us gathered on an inflatable dinghy, some in tee-shirts, as if we were out for a little cruise in a small boat.   A group of mostly Antarctic veterans, many know how to make the most of good weather, and always in the back of our minds is that we’re headed for cold, ice, wind. 

Now, however, we are near the horn, the seas no longer only come from behind.  We have turned further south and the seas seem more confused than the quiet rollers from the stern.  Beautiful land masses on both sides now as we skirt as much south as we can through the southern end of Argentina.  The rolls are bigger, but mostly we’re pitching now, which is better than rolling.  The frequency is shorter, I imagine some are starting to feel queesy.  I can feel the accelerometer in my stomach and brain…measuring the G-forces both higher and lower than our normal 1.0.  I must be careful now.  Pay attention to the body.  Be on the lookout for the burps…, often my first sign.  Had an afternoon nap, feeling a little zonked.  But soon for dinner.  The endless stream of movies have taken a break, I imagine as people nap.  Today’s highlights included The Dark Knight and Office Space.  I busied myself by making a little sonar unit with my electronics kit.  It now lights one LED if it detects something less than 4 feet away. Two LEDs if it’s something less than 3 feet away, and three LEDs for less than 2 feet, and the all four if it’s under a foot.  Very entertaining for me.  Two burps. But still feeling alright.  Walking the corridors becomes a game.  Walk through without touching the side rails.  No V8 for me today.  Pictures come later.  Shipboard data allowance is 50MB a day.  Words for now. 

Bound for the Antarctic Peninsula

I sit now in the back of a 767 flying over South America for the first time.  I’ve made it through another overnight flight and got a relatively decent amount of sleep at times trying to wedge my body into the empty seat beside me and my own, feeling like a contortionist.  But at least it got me horizontal until some body part lost circulation.  I have not actually seen South America yet with my own eyes, but I will within an hour or so as we descend through the clouds.  I am flying to Santiago, Chile then on to Punta Arenas.  There I will board the research vessel, Laurence M. Gould (http://www.usap.gov/vesselScienceAndOperations/contentHandler.cfm?id=305) for a voyage I have awaited for many, many years. 

Ever since reading of Shackleton’s voyage to the Ice, I’ve wanted to see for myself what the actual passage was like to get to the frozen continent.  I eventually started flying to Antarctica, many years after reading Endurance, but it always felt like cheating.  It was too easy, I hadn’t really earned my arrival – all I had to do was sit in the back of a relatively comfortable military cargo plane for 5.5 hours and presto! 

This time will still be greatly easier than in Shackleton’s day, but still I will I have to pass through the Drake Passage, across the stormiest and coldest ocean in the world.  I like to think of this passage on the research vessel as a scouting trip for when I sail – just like Shackleton and Amundsen – to the continent.  I’m not sure I actually will ever sail there, but it’s still worth scouting if only for the imagined adventure (for the actual misery might far outweigh the adventure.)

I am bound for Palmer Station, Antarctica (station population ranges from around 20-40) on a short Antenna Rigging contract.  I’ve been on the waitlist for this stint many times, and my number came up this year.  The station being short on real estate, the only way to get there is by ship.  I’ll be on the station for about 7 weeks and our tasking includes inspecting all the communications and scientific towers and antennas, and building a few towers for science groups/projects.  Palmer is heading into Autumn and when I get there, close to the equinox, we’ll have about equal hours of daylight and sunlight, but by the time I leave around mid May, we’ll only have about 7 hours of daylight and it’ll be getting colder.  The average temp while I’m down there will be around 30 degrees F.  Darker, and colder, I feel as though I’m going in the wrong direction after a long and cold New England winter that is just about to burst into Spring. 

Hark!  Land Ho!  A break in the clouds show the mountains of Chile, of South America!  In Santiago, I will rendezvous with other Antarctic folks including the two other Riggers who I will be working with.  We set sail in two days in the spirit of all Antarctic explorers who have crossed the waters before us.  One of the things I’ll need to do is find a certain statue in Punta Arenas and rub its toe which apparently gives good luck to those who travel across the Drake Passage to Antarctica.  Until then!

Downeast Maine

A little late, I know, but I now must make room for further adventures, and I've let things slide too long.

Downeast I headed last August in my little but strong boat named Daphne.  I sailed alone with Daphne, but had a cast of characters who managed to make their way onto the boat and into my head.  George, the autohelm, Frank, the self steering wind vane, Jimmy, the GPS.  We would converse when I wasn't talking with "Daph."  Of course, I also found Wilson on a small island...

The Downeast voyage was a test of the system.  Since buying Daphne a year before, I hadn't had a significant voyage but wanted to see how we of the system would do together.  Contrary to when my friends and I bought Crazy Horse, I did not have a specific voyage in mind when I bought Daphne.   I just knew she was the vessel I had been looking for and figured the voyages would present themselves in due time.  So going Downeast was the best place to go, close by.  With good winds, fog, strong currents, and tides, it would do.  And I wanted to know if I could handle the boat by myself.  This was a big question.  While having crew is preferable, I wanted to know if I had to depend on crew to move the boat.  

And so off on my voyage I went.  What followed was some of the best weeks I've ever had.  I loved my days.  Weather was king, and the first thing I would do upon opening my eyes would be to slide the hatch of the aft cabin open and look into the sky.  The sky would tell me what kind of day I would have.  Where there clouds, fog, sun, was the anemometer at the top of the mast spinning?  From there I would take a dip in true Outward Bound style, and then have my breakfast which usually consisted of yogurt, fruit and granola.  After breakfast I would make a plan for the day, looking where I wanted to get to and figuring out what was possible with the daylight, tides and winds and exploration opportunities on land and sea. 

Sailing alone means there are no one else's hands to do work when I'm at the helm, so it took an extra half an hour to plan through in my head and then ready every little thing so that I would be spared the little tasks when I needed to be doing other things.  On the list:

George on

Frank ready and working

Check fuel

Trumpet accessible (my fog horn)

Ladder up

Downwind aft life lines down

Check sunset time

Check tides/currents

Pee bottle handy

Instruments/radio on

Sunscreen on

Water handy

Snacks handy

Chart on deck

Log book on deck

Head door locked

Destination info handy

Nav plan ready

PFD w/ radio, PLB ready

Warm clothes accessible

Hatches closed

Sail plan ready w/ respect to weather conditions

Weather forecast written down

After completing the list I would sit below decks and meditate for five minutes to let my mind remind me of anything else I forgot, to take a few moments to remind myself of what I was doing, of the dangers of being forgetful or distracted.  

Around Schoodic Point, officially having made it to Downeast Maine, I was becalmed.  But I had time and so I let Billy Bob, the engine, take a rest.  I was content with bobbing about as I had options and didn't have a schedule I had to be on.  I like this type of sailing best, as I find it puts me most in tune with the wind and the water around me.  And the feeling of going from the bobbing about in the calms to a little steady push through the water is amazing.  

Sometimes I would have my little stereo going, sometimes I would sing loud and proud as I sailed, sometimes I would dance, sometimes I would talk to myself, lots of times I would talk to Daphne.  I had no schedule, I had no anchorage plan, I would just make the day fit the conditions.  I explored islands for hours on end either bushwhacking through the brush or running on the island roads.  I made it to 20 miles south of the Canadian boarder to magical Cross Island.  Endless exploration there was to be had.  Sometimes exploring islands, sometimes donning my wetsuit to explore the underwater world of rockweed.     

I love my little boat.  She took me where my soul seems to like it best.  Living with the moon, the sun, the wind, the waves, the islands.  I'll let the pics say the rest.  Thanks for reading.  

Coastal Maine!

Downeast, Maine
22 August 2013
It's now 15 days into the voyage and I haven't written a thing.  All of the last 15 days have been spent aboard my sailboat Daphne.  Much of the last few weeks was spent with wonderful crew and wonderful people I've been visiting along the way.  But now it is just me and Daphne as we continue downeast and life aboard Daphne, my 27 foot pocket cruiser extraordinaire, and life on the Maine coastline is too interesting not to share.

Two weeks ago, Daphne, my father and I departed from Mattapoisett, Massachusetts.  I had spent a few weekhat here getting her ready, there were times when I loved the prep work and the anticipation of what was to come and times where I wondered what the heck I was doing being the sole owner of a sailboat.  The old adage says a boat is a hole in the water you throw your money into...I just had to trust in myself, Daphne and my decisions along the way that this was a worthwhile adventure.

The short version of the first leg highlights my dad as First Mate, sailing on his 75th birthday in the pouring rain into Marblehead where we were met by many other members of our family.   Dad at this point was an old hand having sailed on the delivery with me from Long Island, where she was when I purchased her.  With his experience aboard, his willingness to do any task and more of what was asked for him, his treating me to dinners and moorings in interesting towns, and the fun of sharing a second sscone sailing adventure, Dad was an excellent first mate.  He and I sailed from Mattapoisett to near Freeport, Maine, and some excellent sailing weather, broke some speed records and had a wonderful time.

At Bustins Island we Visited with home town friend Dave McCoy and family, who treated us to lobsters on the beach with an amazing warmth and hospitality to be reckoned with!  It was then time for Pops to go on other adventures so Rob Lloyd, of the Crazy Horse sailing adventure to Panama and back, filled the first mate slot.  Over the next few days Lloydo and I set even faster speed records (breaking 7 knots), visited a lighthouse on beautiful Seguin Island, and had a wonderful time getting our sail on.  Rob also had numerous contributions and discoveries as I am still learning about the boat.  One of the most exciting was that there is a broiler with which to toast sandwich bread!  What a boat, I say!

Lloydo and I made it to Tennants Harbor where we met up with his wife Nadine, Chris Cabot, also of Crazy Horse, his wife Kai, and their infant son Saer who would all join us for the next day's passage to North Haven and Vinalhaven Islands in Penobscot Bay.  while in Tennants Harbor I crossed paths with Teresa Carey, Daphne's previous owner, who came sailing in on an Outward Bound pulling boat.  It was wonderful to see her as well as welcome her back aboard to share stories and for me to learn a few of her hard earned tips!  She took such good care of Daphne (named adter her grandmother) and I have her to thank for Daphne's excellent functionality and style.

Then on to the Fox Island Thorofare and what a treat to have three of the four Crazy Horse crew together!  (We missed you Ted!)  And really fun to have a big wonderful crew on Daphne!
After a very social and wonderful weekend with Chris and many Outward Bound friends on North Haven I headed back to Hurricane Island to test out a real solo sailing voyage.  the trip there and back was successful - some parts went according to plan and others were totally chaotic, but there was controlled learning in all and they helped shape the plans and routines that are now used.  The voyage to Hurricane was when things went very much according to plan was one of my most memorable sailing days I've ever had.  Planned and executed and it took me to Hurricane Island, one of my most favorite places in the world.  To have sailed there from home, to have done the last leg solo and to be welcomed there by good ffriends are for an excellent day.

I spent a few days on Hurricane exploring, clearing trails, going for runs and dips, visiting with new and old friends and discussing the new Hurricane Island Foundation/Hurricane Island Center for Science and Leadership, I headed back to North Haven to fill up on water, food, diesel and a few other miscellaneous supplies.

This afternoon when all the errands and visits were done with many thanks to all who fed me and helped me get around (Joel, Amy, Cecily, Jen and Dieter, you guys are awesome!) it was time to depart. It was very hard to leave my wonderful friends and the wonderful island of North Haven, but there is a short summer window in which to explore the islands and coastline to the Northeast, So I bid them adieu and set off for adventure with lady Daphne (right after meeting Liv Tyler - she's awesome!).

Across East Penobscot and a now current speed record of 7.42 knots!  The learning comes from the chaos and the order.  I suppose both are always necessary.  I had lots of help steering from George (the traditional name for the auto pilot) and little help from Frank (my non-traditional name for the self steering wind vane). Apparently Frank did not want to cooperate since I had not properly balanced the boat for a 15+ knot wind coming across the bay.  (I should have put a reef in the mainsail.)

I anchored at McGlathery Island after much time talking and singing to myself and all who may have secretly heard me on shore, with many laughs and smiles.  I later played taps as the sun went down, went for a swim and cooked a mean dinner for one as a huge red moon rose over the island.
There were times where I thought today, "Why should I leave North Haven?"  But something drove me on and as I came in to anchor with the recent laughter still in my ears from speaking in a Scottish accent (brought on by McGlathery Island) and comfortably sailing along at five knots in beautiful protected waters, steering with my left buttcheek I thought, "Ah, yes, I prefer to sail with good friends and family, but there is also some purity of sailing solo.  It takes ten times longer to get underway, but the rewards and learning that come are so far so good and I hope to keep them that way.

For my parents and anyone else who may be worried, I try to check in every day on the ham radio maritime net, I sail conservatively when alone and I wear my personal floatations device or PFD which has now really become a "life jacket."  If for some crazy reason I were to fall overboard, I would have my PF to keep me afloat and if George or Frank were steering Faphne away from me I could use the waterproof VHF radio stooped in the pocket of my PFD to hail a boat.  And if that didn't work I could activate the emergency signal from my Personal Locatorn Beacon also attached to the PFD  (of course activating the PLB after trying first to swim to the nearest island).

By the numbers...
Miles sailed today: 15ish
Wind speed (from the SW in knots): 15-20
Hours sailed: 3
Hours George steered: .5
Hours Ben steered: 2.49
Hours Frank steered: .01
Hours with Billy Bob on (Billy Bob's the diesel motor): .5
Number of other sailboats in the anchorage: 3
Tide range in feet: 11
Number of watches that went overboard today: 1
Temperature of the air: 70
Temperature of the water: 60
Lobster pots passed today: infinity...and beyond!

That's all for now.  Now to do a walk around the boat to make sure everything is ship shape and quiet for the night and then to hit the aft cabin for a restafter not sure how far Downeast I will get, I suppose I will turn around when it feels appropriate.  Daphne is taking good care of me, I don't think I will ever own a finer boat.