Antarctic Airmen Down

For those of you who haven't heard, there was a small plane lost in Antartica last week.  The downed plane was a Twin Otter operated by Ken Borak Air (KBA), a Canadian company that does much of the contract flying near both poles and also does much of the near fixed wing support for McMurdo scientists.  This particular Twin Otter was supporting a nearby Italian base and was flying from the South Pole Station to the Italian base, a little north of McMurdo.

Showing up for work one day last week, we were told an aircraft was overdue and that an ELT (emergency locator transmitter) had been activated but no other communications had been heard.  This was an ominous sign as ELTs are activated by the force of an impact or at the least a hard landing.  And so the wait began...

One hundred knot winds and overcast skies kept the search and rescue (SAR) crews from locating the aircraft.  Still, one plane circled for 7 hours hoping to make contact with the three person Canadian crew of the Twin Otter.  Eventually a few aganizing days later the plane was sighted and it was assumed unsurvivable, apparently having flown into the mountain in a left bank, I believe.  A few days after that, the SAR team made it to the aircraft after having been dropped off on a ridge above the Otter, descended the few hundred meters over crevasses terrain at 13,000 feet.  They were prepared for a recovery mission, but because of the impact they could not get tot the cockpit.  Instead they were able to get the cockpit voice recorder and some personal belongings to bring home to family members of the deceased - a pilot, a co-pilot and a flight mechanic.  (A full accident investigation is now underway and it seems weather will be the primary cause.)

It was a strange time to be at McMurdo.  With a thousand people, there is enough disconnect where things continue without missing a beat.  But then there are there are those that haven't slept for 30 hours because they've been preparing for a search and rescue.  Then there are the others who when asked how they are doing, answer with tears after having communicated with the search parties over the radio all day.  And then there is me, feeling helpless in McMurdo.

Last night, there was an outside memorial service for the fallen aircrew.  I had never been to a memorial service for downed airmen and as a pilot myself, it was particularly moving.  A few words and prayers were said, followed bByatt minute of silence, followed by taps, which I had been asked to play.  I kept my little pocket trumpet inside my down jacket to keep it warm, and broke the silence with the horn blowing the sounds of farewell towards McMurdo Sound.

A few minites later, there was a fly-by.  First by a DC-3 Baslar and then by a Twin Otter, both aircraft of KBA and both in service here at McMurdo, flown by flig crews who surely knew the crew that perished.  After a few extra minutes of silence, the sight and sound of those aircraft spaced maybe 30 seconds apart, flying low and in honor of their fallen comrades, was something to behold.  I have never been so moved by an aircraft and all that it was flying for.  All that were there watched them pass over the Sound and then the service was completed.  Attendees were. To to mill about outside as it was windy and cold intrue Antarctic fashion, but I had to linger to watch the planes head towards the mountains, and then slowly make their way back to the Pegasus white ice runway, near 10 miles away, almost as if they didn't want to come down...as if they didn't want to leave the amazing world their friends were lost in. Nearing the end of this summer season on the Ice, I contemplated the wonders of this continent, of flying, and the brotherhood that is forged by the two.

A few folks came up to me afterwards to thank me for my contribution - such a simple gesture on their part, but so appreciated by me.  If there was nothing I could have done to save the crew, at the very least I could honor them.  For this I was very thankful.  Many prayers sent to the crew's families.

Here is the poem, High Flight, by John Gillespie Magee, written in 1941, that was printed on the service program:

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of—wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark nor ever eagle flew—
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

The memorial service at the South Pole (From the KBA website).

For bios and pics of the men who died:

http://www.borekair.com/memorial/

Stuck on Mt. Erebus

Last week, I went for a space walk up on Mt. Erebus with my co-worker, Nick.  As we were launched upwards to around 11,000 feet, my co-worker and I looked outside, looked at each other and made faces to the effect of not really knowing what was in our futures.  From McMurdo, it looked like the top of the volcano was completely in the clouds.   It had been scouted, however, and there was a back entrance to our little spot on the side of shoulder that overlooks the peninsula 11,000 feet below.  We both had questions as to the weather but we were assured by our pilot, that the nearby clouds would burn off and the rest would be blown away…I was in need of a little adventure so, what the heck, out of the helo we went! 

In my spacesuit.

We were dropped off at a place called Cones Z.  It’s on a shoulder of Mt. Erebus and serves as a communications hub for science data coming from other parts of Mt. Erebus.  It’s a notoriously weathered place.  Two winters ago, both 40 foot towers came down.  Last winter, both wind turbines were rendered inoperable, either by throwing blades or by throwing tails…or both.  The assumed mode of failure is rime ice which then unbalances the “birds” and they then vibrate themselves to pieces sort of like a washing machine out of whack. 

Cones has a "rescue apple" complete with fold up chairs, sleeping bags, food, fuel, and most importantly it is a passive-thermally heated place.  Quite a nice spot to come in from the cold to.

Video Link: Into Space

We were there to replace two wind birds and we got to work after a rest in the apple.  That is the routine when coming from sea level to 11,000 feet in half an hour – rest…work…rest…work…The weather held for a bit, but then it became windy and the cloud enveloped us.  We were up the tower, hand warmers on both sides of my hands, double facemasks, harnessed in…we were astronauts doing our space walk.  I loved it.  The tower work at Cones is among my favorite of jobs here on Ross Island.  At some point in the afternoon, it was clear a helicopter would not be coming to pick us up that day.  So we eyed the contents of the apple and saw we would be okay.  The important things: a big cylinder of Oxygen and a Gamov bag (a portable mini-hyperbaric chamber), should one of us start suffering from altitude illness.  How long we could be stuck here we did not know.  Weather in McMurdo can shut down for days on end.  Weather at Erebus can shut down for days on end.  Who was to say…at last, a little Antarctic adventure.   A little unknown!  Where would we sleep, how would we get off the mountain?!  I knew we would sleep, and eventually get off the mountain but welcomed the unpredictability of it all and hoped we wouldn’t get altitude illness.  So we continued to work like spacemen, little tasks taking a long time: 

Video Link (nothing too exciting but gives a sense of what the job is sometimes like): 

Space Walk!

Eventually we got one bird up and were starting on the second when out of the mist came two snowmobiles.  They informed us that they had spoken with "helo ops" who said they could no longer come to get us.  So we were going to have to spend the night on the mountain.  We cleaned up our gear as were then informed that more weather was coming in, and headed to the Lower Erebus Hut (still at 11,000 feet or so).  At "LEH" we had a cup of tea, as there was a strong british contingent of scientists and support workers at the little hut here, and then we headed three thousand feet down a Fang Gulley to Fang Camp where folks go to spend two nights to acclimatize to the altitude on their way up to LEH to do their volcanology studies on the upper mountain.  (As a side note, Upper Erebus Hut, was abandoned not too many years ago because lava bombs from the lava lake were ejecting out of the crater and landing near the hut.)

We made it down the gulley, which has rolled many a snowmobile, and finally our camp came into view.  Four "Scott Tents."  There was a mountaineer and an artist in residence here acclimatizing, so at least we had some extra company.

Our refuge: Scott tents.

 We were later told that a helo would try to get us in the morning and bring us back up to Cones to finish our work.  Unfortunately, the morning brought no break in the weather and McMurdo itself was socked in.  It was soon apparent that we would spend another night at Fang.  There is not much to do there, the weather too bad for hiking, we had brought no chess board or cards, we were going to start making them but instead hung out with the artist in residence.  Cutting out the frivolousness we cut to the chase and asked her to tell us her life story.  Quite fascinating it was, and quite complicated necessitating the use of props, and we later reciprocated our own life stories.  I like the crap that gets cut out in the field.  No idle chat, let's get down to business, who are you, tell us about your life.  I like it.

So Nick slept a lot, I read a bit about a sailing adventure, tried to raise someone on my little HAM radio, made little notes in my notebook about various things and tried to enjoy the arduous task of making water which took many trips out into the blowing snow to get another pot full of snow, all the while wondering if we were going to spend the week in that little tent.  

After two nights, salvation showed up and thankfully took us back to Cones so we could finish our work.  We were able to finish the work, thankfully and enjoyed a beautiful morning on Mt. Erebus.  

Helo at Cones.

Two birds up and running.

The towers and the crater rim.

A little closer to space.

Eventually we made it back to town, satisfied that our job was done.  Many people were happy to see us back, and word had made it around town a bit that we were stuck at Fang.  It was a nice Antarctic adventure into the unknown.  Life in McMurdo seems very sheltered and it was nice to have some activity and weather on the side of the mountain.  Change is good.  Space is awesome.  

In other news, I had dinner with an astronaut last week.  He is here on a team searching for meteorites.  I met him when I briefed him and his crew on our portable solar power units.  Fascinating to talk to him  about the application process.  His recommendations: 1. Keep applying 2. Do what you love.  Done and done!  He spoke very highly of Antarctic experience as well as NOLS experience... we shall see.  My application done and gone, NASA should announce the ones who beat me out this spring.  It'll be interesting to read their resumes.  For now, though, I have plenty to keep me busy.  If you're still reading, thanks!  I miss you all back in the unfrozen land and I'll be home in two months!  

Scott's Hut at Cape Evans

On Thanksgiving, I went with some of the shop snow mobile mechanics to Cape Evans from which Robert Scott launched his ill-fated trip to the geographic South Pole.  I hadn't been there since 2006 and it was fantastic to see it again after seeing Shackleton's hut earlier the same month.  We had a wonderful ride out to the hut on a glorious Thanksgiving and stopped to explore some Erebus Ice Tongue caves.  The ice under the glacier was wild and I felt like I was about to see Luke Skywalker hanging from the ceiling.  I'll let the pictures say the rest.

This thing fascinated me to now end.  Imagining the slow creep of the glacier overhead slowly deforming this icicle into a hershey's kiss.

Now into Scott's hut.

This is where Capt. Scott slept and worked.

Below is one of the pics I can recall the most.  Very crazy to stand and look at the view above as it is now.

I'd love to know the story of this dog, still chained up.

Seal blubber.

Shackleton's Hut

Shacklton's hut as it stands today.

My Antarctic experience is now a little more complete.  Last Saturday, I went with Dale, who never had a brother, and whom I know call "Brother," went to Cape Royds to set up a solar system for the small hut there that is used by the Adelie penguins.  Dale does not get to fly as much as other folks as he is a snow mobile mechanic (and a damn good snow mobile rider) and I love flying with him because  he gets as excited to fly as I do.

Dale's my brother here, since I have never been able to get a real brother or sister down here.  He's the one to whom I sometimes say, "Nothing can get in my way..." or when standing in a door frame, triumphantly tell, "None shall pass..."  It gives the day a little good cheer as it's always good to have reminders of siblings back home.

So Brother and I were dropped off at Cape Royds and efficiently worked through our tasks of connecting and testing solar panels, batteries, inverter and charge controller that we might have a bit of time to visit Ernest Shackleton's hut built in 1908.  I had seen the hut a few times before but had never had the opportunity to go inside.  This time, I was armed with a key as a certified hut guide.  I had been in Scott's two huts at Hut Point and Cape Evans, but it was Shackleton's hut that I really wanted to walk inside, seeing what "Shacks" saw only a hundred and four years later.

When we got to the hut, there were some New Zealanders doing some conservation work, but they graciously allowed us to enter and look around.  The place is fascinating.  The boots, the coats, the books, the canned goods, the stove, the view from the window, all the little details including a signature on one of the crates by Ernest Shackleton himself.  Dale and I took pictures and tried to memorize all the details of this little hut.  It was incredible to imagine the men and man that I've read so much about standing where I stood, gazing out the window and seeing exactly what he saw.  It is a remarkable thing to step out of the door and have the surroundings be exactly the same as 100 years ago, the conditions, the cold, the rocks and the little ponds and penguins all the same.  I certainly haven't done what Shackleton has done, but to stand where he stood and see what he saw and experience the cold as he did, I feel connected to him through the brotherhood of the Antarctic.  It's as though we are both alive in the same time, for just a moment...a special one that I shall always remember.  I can now sleep a little easier.  Thanks, Shacks.

The portraits are of the king and queen.

Boots in a box.

Still there are biscuits inside!

The real men at work.  Shackleton is in the back, second from the left.

It was this Nimrod expedition that Shackleton claimed the furthest south, turning back 100 miles from attaining the pole, giving up the heroism of getting there first in order to get himself and his companions back alive, where Scott risked everything and eventually sacrificed himself and his companions.  For that, and for getting all his men back alive from the Endurance expedition, Shackleton gets my respect and awe.  One of the most famous Antarctic quotes goes: "Scott for scientific method, Amundsen for speed and efficiency but when disaster strikes and all hope is gone, get down on your knees and pray for Shackleton."

It was a blustery day and so Dale and I called on the radio to say we were ready for our helicopter pick up.  We were told 30-45 minutes before our helo would arrive so I went for a little hike to a nearby rise to see the open water that always does wonderful things for my soul.  A ran there, being carried with the wind and upon descending the little hill could lean down the slope (and into the wind) like I never have before.  As I ran down I had the exact same feeling as when you hold two opposing magnets near each other to feel the repelling force between them.  I was a human magnet in opposition to the wind.  It was very cool.  I've never been a magnet before...

Here's a little bit of the wind:
Cape Royds Wind

That's it for now.  Thanks for reading!