Farewell My Penguin Mates.

Sadly after a long winter, the sea ice has officially closed for recreational travel. We always hoped that conditions would be good enough allow us to get to Auster and Macey Island a few more times after the official closing date of November 25, but in the end it wasn't to be, and due to clear sunny days burning into the ice the closing date was in fact brought forward by four days.

The chicks have grown a lot!

By now you will be aware that the biggest attraction at Mawson is the emperor penguins at Auster. For most expeditioners who come to Mawson, highest on the priority list is visiting these beautiful birds. It was with this in mind that our entire winter crew was keen to see that our new summer "immigrants" did get the opportunity to experience what we have all enjoyed so much of over winter.

I had been trying to find the time to get back to Macey Island to finish a gas job on one of the huts, and I had virtually lost hope that it was going to happen when our Station Leader (SL) approached me and asked if I would lead a trip to the rookery for a day. Previously this year the role of trip leader to Macey and Auster has been reserved for returning expeditioners (with previous seasons experience) and the SL (a first timer, with no experience) due to the perceived added risk of sea ice travel. This has been a bit of a sore point with one or two people on station, so I felt privileged to be offered the responsibility. I should point out that I, along with nearly everyone else qualified early on in our season as a trip leader for travel on the plateau, and I consider that a place of higher danger due to crevasses and much less stable weather (you can see why some were "confused" by the SL's stance on trip leaders for Auster/Macey... however, those were the rules).

The plan was to go on Thursday, but weather conspired against us with high winds and cloud, so the decision was made to try again on Friday. Friday morning arrived with a much better outlook and at 8am we were on our way. My crew consisted of Tony, our new comms tech and fellow Kiwi; Kevin our new sparky, and James our young summer plumber. We made good time to Macey after detouring around a large patch of open water that previously was part of our marked GPS route. In two hours we were at the hut with tools in hand, James and I replacing the gas regulator and pipe work on the "Apple", Kevin replacing a some electrical componentry in the main hut, and Tony just having a good look around, in the process discovering that the party that had overnighted on Thursday had left behind their sat phone. Well spotted Tony!

James, getting up close and personal with my friends.

An hour later with the work complete, we were "back on the road" and bound for the penguins. Along the way while travelling through a "bergy" part of the route James made the comment "this is probably the coolest thing I have ever done", which took me back to my first trip out that way. When you visit an area frequently and have repeatedly experienced something you'd previously never done, it is easy to become a little blasé about it after a while. It reminded me just how special this year has been and how lucky I have been to be able to visit this incredible part of the world. Not only that but it reminded me just how generous the AAD is as an employer. Not only are we encouraged to spend time out in the field (often during work hours), they also allow us to use government equipment worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in doing so.

So trusting, within touching distance.

We arrived at the "car park" in no time and were greeted by Big Pete who'd walked back to their Hagg to sched in with VLV Mawson. The colony had moved a couple of kilometres since I was last there and Pete pointed us in the right direction. Soon we found the emperors and my crew were surrounded by them in no time. The day was calm and warm, conditions that seem to encourage the birds to come out and be sociable. We couldn't have asked for more given that for two of my crew this will likely have been a once in a lifetime experience (Tony is here for a summer-winter-summer contract so will have more opportunities next winter). From my perspective I was overjoyed that my last visit was probably my most enjoyable.

Unfortunately our time was up all too soon, and we began the long walk back to the Haggs, and then started the long journey home. We planned to stop at Paterson Island to visit the Weddel seal pups so had to allow time for that. I found myself taking long looks at the icy scenery and the penguins as I walked away. As my year here progresses and draws to an end I find myself questioning whether I will return. If I do apply to come back the likelihood of returning to Mawson is unlikely, so I very much doubt if I will ever see these beautiful birds in the wild again like I have this year. Other stations have emperors pass through now and then but nothing like we have here.

Most of the chicks are keen to interact now.

On the return journey we stopped at Macklyn Island near some suspicious grey ice and drilled down to see how thick it was. Sea ice at it's peak is normally 1.6-2m thick. Our first drill right beside our track measured just .5m, then a few paces away a scary .15m! The minimum required before Hagg travel is allowed at the beginning of winter is .8m..... Pete's exact words after drilling a third time was "lets get the **** away from here!" It surprised me just how obvious the thinner ice was, not at all the blue we are used to but a sickly, rotten looking grey.

Two of those puppy dog eyes.....

Fortunately from this point on back to station the ice all looked healthy and our stop at Paterson was our only interruption. The seal pups had grown an unbelievable amount in the four weeks since I last saw them, and they are all swimming and losing the furry coats they were born in. They still have their beautiful puppy dog eyes though, and are not at all bothered by a group of humans with cameras. We wasted no time here, as some ominous looking cloud was quickly closing in on us from the east. Within an hour of arriving back on station surface definition had reduced greatly, and shortly after this it started snowing.

That is the end of the emperors for me. I didn't feel the sadness that I thought I would when leaving them for the last time. Having visited six times I think I've had my fill of them for a while. If by some chance I do return to Mawson one day, I know I will look forward to the experience again, but having had the opportunities that most people only see in a documentary, I can feel nothing but privileged.

Thank you beautiful Emperor penguins. I will always remember your gentleness with each other, and incredible curiosity and eagerness to share our company. I will miss all of you.

Despite living in such close proximity to each other, I've only ever seen displays of tolerance and affection from these beautiful, gentle creatures.

The End Of Isolation.

After enduring a cold and isolated winter, finally it came time to set up the ski landing area (SLA) in readiness for the first of our summer flights. As we are governed by the Australian version of the CAA the runway has to comply with their standards, and as such the process must be managed by qualified people. Two of our team had received training on the ins and outs of ski landing establishment earlier in the year so we were soon set to go.

The first glimpse as they fly over before landing.

Mid morning on Wednesday November 11 four of us set off for the SLA site in Kista Strait just to the west of station. I had volunteered for the role of SLA fireman, and as such I was included in the set up operation. Our part of it was a fairly simple job. All we had to do was mark a safe strip with flags at each end, set up the wind sock and ensure there were no wandering penguins on the landing area when the aeroplane arrived.

The way the system works is that we are required by law to be on the SLA an hour before the flight is due. Flight time from Davis Station is roughly two hours twenty minutes, and once they are past the Amery Ice Shelf they are at the point of no return (PNR). When they are roughly thirty miles out the pilot makes contact with our comm's on VHF, who in turn calls us at the SLA and notifies us of the imminent arrival. Soon enough the Twin Otter was above us as it approached. Right at the last minute I spotted an Adelie penguin scuttling down the runway so a call was relayed to the pilot to pull out of his approach and circle while we went out to divert the little feller from harms way.

Kilo Charlie Sierra taxiing in to greet us.

Penguin disaster narrowly avoided, the pilot made his approach again and within minutes stepped out of his machine with his co-pilot to greet us. Surprisingly the experience of seeing a strange face after nine months of isolation was not at all what I was expecting. I'm not really sure how I was expecting to feel, but for some reason I thought it would be a bit strange meeting someone new after such a long period of isolation. As it was, meeting Russ and Curtis was just like meeting new friends. As well as the two pilots, we were greeted by Jon, an AAD AGSO (aircraft ground support officer). Jon's job was to stay with us for  the week or so and set up the SLA properly with the correct orientation and flagging, and basically manage to ground op's for us.


Refuelling. Spot Fireman Fred.

With the plane secured on the ice we all drove back to station and hosted the pilots for an hour or so to enable them to have  look around and have a bite to eat. The two pilots are both Canadian, and fly the Twin Otter all the way from Canada to spend the southern summer working for the AAD in Antarctica. I spoke to them about their fascinating journey. They leave Calgary, Canada, fly down over the USA, then Central and South America, stopping several times along the way. Their next stop after leaving Chile is Rothera, which is a British station on the Antarctic Peninsula. Here they swap their wheel/ski combination for skis only. They then continue on to the American station at the South Pole, where they stayed for a couple of days before continuing on to Davis Station which is one of ours. This journey takes them approximately two weeks. Understandably the highlight of their trip was flying over the Andes. They depart Antarctica some time in February and head back home via the same route. I would just love to be able to go with them. It would be an incredible adventure.

The ground crew and pilots.

Soon enough it was time for the plane to leave and prepare for Thursdays two scheduled flights to deliver our new summer expeditioners. In exchange we were sending out our dieso' Rob "Angry" Cullen who was only with us for the winter. Angry has had a hard time here this year because lack of effort by his colleague so he was eager to leave. Once again the plane arrived, this time bringing six extra new faces, and we soon had their gear unloaded, the plane refuelled, and Angry on the plane with his gear and in the air. After fulfilling our obligation of remaining on the SLA until the plane had reached PNR we headed back to station for a break and a meal, and soon enough it was time to repeat the process and receive our final flight for the day carrying the final five of our summer crew. Unloaded and refuelled the pilots set off again.

Unloading cargo. Somewhere in there is fresh fruit and our mail!

Five more flights came and went over the next five days until all our summer cargo had been delivered. Each flight can carry approximately one tonne, and we had just under five tonnes to receive. The highlight of the whole event for me was the delivery of our mail! What a thrill it is to receive parcels and postcards from friends and family after so long. In addition to personal mail we also received boxes of fresh navel oranges and pears along with other food items. YUM!! You have no idea how good a navel orange tastes after such a long period without them.

A week after it all began the process was over and we sadly said farewell to Jon. He'd very quickly become a part of the Mawson family. The SLA was packed up and closed for 2015 and we all stood down. It has been good to have some new blood on station. They each bring their own influence, and I have enjoyed showing a few of the ins and outs of station life. Some of them even brought copies of movies released since we left Australia!!

Stillwell Hills/Ledinghams Depot Traverse.

Get comfortable, maybe even grab a cuppa. This is a very lengthy but worthwhile read (in my opinion anyway).

On our way. A brief stop for lunch at Jelbart Glacier. (Photo credit: Angus Cummings).



The most distant outpost encompassed by our station is Ledinghams Depot. Situated in the Stillwell Hills area it is approximately 150 kilometres west of Mawson Station, and is visited most years only to carry out maintenance. In saying that, there were no visits from 2010 to 2014. The depot was named after Rod Ledingham, who was a very successful and greatly respected geologist and field training officer with the Division many years ago, and has life long connections with Antarctica, having first worked as a meteorologist with the British in 1966.

The view over Ledinghams Depot (Photo credit: Angus Cummings)

This year I had the incredibly good fortune to be selected as one of the six from our ANARE (pronounced "a-nah-ree", Australian National Antarctic Research Expedition) to participate in a five day sea ice traverse to carry out a hut inspection and undertake some gas fitting work. In all honesty I really wasn't looking forward to the trip. 150kms across the ice is a long way, and when I refer to ice, it is in fact sea ice, but is largely covered with compacted sastrugi (snow which has blown into wave like bumps by the high winds we get here), which makes for a very uncomfortable slow journey. However, despite my reluctance I knew the positives would outweigh the negatives (with the right attitude I think they always do).

So it was that after two to three months of planning, field safety training refreshers, and meticulous organisation we set off in two Hagglunds early on Monday morning, September 21. We had waited all month for the weather to line up five to six perfect days, and when a good week finally arrived we were ready to go.

The first leg of the journey was to end at Colbeck Hut, in the Colbeck Archipelago. This is approximately 90kms from Mawson, and to get there we travelled around a number of glacier tongues. Some of these glaciers are huge and left me in awe of their majesty. Each one is different to the next. Some are incredibly wide and don't protrude out from the coast as far as you'd expect, whereas some are breathtakingly rugged, broken, and finish in the most spectacular formations advancing miles out to sea. The colours in parts of the walls would have to be the most beautiful deep blues that nature can produce. They are truly spectacular.

A section of the very rugged and broken Taylor Glacier.

Along the way we encountered a number of seals lazing around tide cracks close to the coast or a glacier, often accompanied by emperor penguins. Proof again for me that emperors enjoy the company of other creatures. Often around glacier tongues we crossed a number of large tide cracks, which had to be assessed before we drove over them. Tide cracks are sometimes undermined and therefore the ice on the edges can be unstable and may collapse when driven on. Hagglunds have been claimed before by these as a result of lack of caution. At a cost of several hundred thousand dollars for a Hagg, the Division goes to great lengths to educate us in the correct precautions to take. Also important to remember is that Haggs are now only built for military use, so in effect are irreplaceable.


Tide Crack!!

A berg broken off the end of Jelbart Glacier, tide crack in the foreground.
 

Finally after six or so hours we arrived at Colbeck Hut and set about preparing our home for the night. Colbeck is sited on an island, which is locked in sea ice most of the year. It is yet another beautifully peaceful location. As I've mentioned before one of the most enjoyable things I find when in these remote locations is the absolute quiet. Here you only need to walk for five minutes and you can be completely alone and away from other peoples noise. I could literally sit forever and just enjoy the silence. It is something I will miss incredibly when I leave. As well as the peace, the surrounding islands and ice add to the picture. It's impossible for me to describe how these things combine to make me feel. I can only say it promotes absolute calm within. Something I don't experience very often.


Looking back toward Colbeck Hut and the RMIT van.

After a good nights sleep we set off early on Tuesday bound for Stillwell Hills. A detour to Tilley Nunatak (an Inuit word for an isolated peak of rock protruding from ice or snow) had been scheduled to check the condition of a small fuel cache. When we arrived we had to battle a very isolated katabatic wind of about forty to fifty knots around the Nunatak. So isolated that only a few hundred meters either side the wind was minimal. It's probably hard to comprehend if you haven't experienced it but Antarctica is like that. Many times we have been on station and had virtually no wind, yet a kilometer or so either side you can see snow blowing off the plateau at what looks like one hell of a rate of knots.

Tilley Nunatak (Photo credit: Angus Cummings).

Despite the wind Tilley was a very picturesque place, and I was disappointed we were unable to spend enough time there to have a good look around. The fuel cache turned out to be two jerry cans of ATK (aviation turbine kerosene?), and I was left unsure of the point in having such a small amount of fuel as an emergency supply when the distance to safety is so great. I guess someone thought it was a good idea.

After fifty kilometres or so we entered the Stillwell Hills area, which was yet another breath taking vista. Maybe the reason the area seems so beautiful is because so much of what we see around station is just ice plateau. I'm not completely sure, but approaching the area you are suddenly surrounded by distant islands, ice bergs, and exposed rocky hills and headlands. Again, words don't do it justice and I'll never be able to describe how much the scene pleased my eyes.


Looking toward Stillwell Hills from William Scoresby Bay.

Ten kilometres later we arrived at the depot and were pleasantly surprised by the hut. It was my understanding that the hut was small and that we would be spending our nights in a polar pyramid (a pyramid shaped tent designed to withstand a blizzard). I was wrong. The hut is an extended "Apple" (a round fibreglass structure which deconstructs into separate panels, making it easy to ship to the continent, and consequently transport to site and erect). This type of shelter was pioneered by Ledingham himself, so it is fitting that the largest form of it we have is erected at the site named after him. In this case the "Apple" is in fact a "Zuchini", as it has four straight sided panels fitted to the middle to extend it. It was large enough for five of us to sleep in, three on narrow bed settee type arrangements, and two others on squabs on the floor. Our trip leader J.B. (who I've mentioned in previous blogs) slept outside in his bivvy, as he always does.

"The Zuchini" (Photo credit: Pete Layt).

We had arrived early enough in the afternoon to get a head start on the work that we had to do, and in no time I had installed a new gas regulator, tested the pipework and completed a general inspection of the installation. Little Pete, our electrician found that what he had been told needed doing in fact didn't, so had given me a hand. Big Pete, our chippie started removing old silicone from the joints between the panels with a little help from J.B. and Angus (normally our station Met Tech, but in this case one of our two tourists on the trip, the other being Paul who is one of our diesos who had come in case we had mechanical troubles, but ended up driving for a bit.). Soon enough it was knock off time and a few of us wandered off to briefly explore the nearby surrounds. Others sat in the hut.



Fjord type inlet just over the hill from Ledinghams Depot.

Day two (Wednesday) at Ledinghams dawned true to forecast. Calm, sunny and warm (-14 degrees), what more could you ask for in such a wonderful place. Our plan for the day had been decided the evening before, so we all chipped in to assist Big Pete with the remaining task of stripping out the old silicone from the panel joints so he could finish earlier and we could all spend the best part of the day exploring the region in the Haggs in search of the Fold Island emperor colony.


We spent a number of hours driving around the islands, stopping to take photo's of various bergs and ice formations until we finally located the penguins. We had decided earlier that if we found the penguins we would not approach too closely due to the fact that this colony is undisturbed by humans normally unlike our regular haunt of Auster. Ironically we ended up right in the path of the birds that were transiting to and from the colony, and they seemed as curious as their cousins at Auster so I'm not sure that our caution was called for.

The distant Fold Island emperor colony.

However it did demonstrate our policy of leaving the Antarctic as undisturbed as we possibly can, which I believe is a very important philosophy to live by. Along the way we came across the most intense and colourful collection of small jade "growlers". These are rarely seen very small bergs, formed from incredibly clear green water that resemble large chunks of pounamu. They are spectacular to look at from a distance, and even better when you are standing right next to them. Many photo's were taken and a couple were climbed (they were relatively small).

Small jade berg "wave".

We returned to the hut late in the afternoon in time to spend some more time wandering around the local area climbing various hills to take in the expansive views. It always amazes me how far you can see from a high point here. Because of the lack of air pollution you can literally see for miles so bergs that may be fifty miles out to sea are clearly visible through a zoom lens or binoculars.


Before long it was time to return to the hut to prepare dinner and settle in for the night, in preparation for the return leg to Colbeck. Our chef back on station had prepared a whole lot of meals for our trip and vacuum packed them so basically all I had to do each night was thaw them in hot water and heat them in a pot. The most I did was boil the rice, pasta, or mix instant "real" mashed potatoes (which is surprisingly good). Awesome work Kim, it was greatly appreciated.


The crew inside the Ledinghams Zuchini (Photo credit: Pete Layt)

After an early start the next day we headed away from Ledinghams bound for Colbeck. It was a quiet journey for the first hour or so. I'm not sure if it was because the other two were taking in the scenery again or not, but personally I was a bit sombre knowing that in all reality, I will never have the opportunity to see this beautiful part of Antarctica again. Maybe if I was given the opportunity to come back to Mawson for a winter again it would happen, but having had the privilege of visiting Stillwell Hills I think I would probably encourage my counterpart on station to take the opportunity if they hadn't had the chance before. It would be selfish doing otherwise. On reflection I know I have achieved a  number of "firsts and lasts" this year and I have been incredibly fortunate.

The highlight of the journey from Ledingham to Colbeck was a mid-day stop at Proclamation Point. This is the spot that in 1931 Sir Douglas Mawson staked his claim to the part of Antarctica that is now recognised as Australian Territory. He was the leader of a joint British, Australian and New Zealand (BANZARE) expedition at the time so the visit had real significance not just to my Aussie mates, but myself as well. Once we'd had time to reflect on the differences between the way we explore the region compared to Dougie, and also had a bite to eat we continued on with our journey.


The original claim erected by Douglas Mawson
 in 1931. It was lost and then rediscovered in the
1950's by expeditioners visiting the site.

Next stop was beside Taylor Glacier, close to Taylor Rookery. Four of the party walked the three kilometres to get within one kilometre of the rookery. I declined as I couldn't really understand the attraction considering I can have them walk right up to me at Auster. Instead I hung around the Hagg and was entertained by passing emperors who often stopped to spend some time observing me before they continued on their trek to a distant tide crack or the open sea.

We finally arrived at Colbeck Hut for the second time and set about making our home for the night. Being very tired from the days travel it was an early night for all of us, knowing we had another ninety odd kilometres to go until we reached Mawson again.

Again the next day we had an early start. The plan was to arrive back on station early enough to unpack the Haggs and redistribute all our gear to the correct locations, fuel up and park away the Haggs in time for a pre dinner beer and brag session with our mates that had remained on station for the week. Along the way we detoured to visit and photograph a very big jade berg that was discovered earlier in the winter. This was an absolute sight to see. The colour of these things is really beautiful, and as I said before it was such a pleasure to be able to get right up next to it. It is a sight I will remember for a long time.



Majestic jade berg.

Another strange occurrence during the Colbeck-Mawson leg happened around midday. Looking toward the north you could see what appeared to be expansive ice cliffs which were in fact a mirage. I had seen mirages here before but not to the extent of this one. If you didn't know better you'd have thought you were surrounded by distant cliffs. Photo's were taken and to my surprise showed the vista clearly.

The ice cliffs that appear real but don't exist.

We finally arrived back at Mawson around 2.30pm in a lot quicker time than the outward trip. The sled we were towing behind our Hagg for the first leg to Colbeck had compressed the snow on the way out, so following our tracks from five days earlier made the travelling a lot smoother, and therefore quicker. A stop on the sea ice just before we entered Horseshoe Harbour to shake hands and thank each other for a successful and safe trip was a nice touch instigated by our trip leader J.B.


Before we knew it all our gear was unpacked and I was enjoying my first hot shower for five days. Then it was off to the bar to catch up on the weeks news and tell everyone about our week.
This trip will probably be remembered as the highlight of my year. The penguins at Auster would have to be a close second, but the fact that even fewer people have had the opportunity to visit the Stillwell Hills area made it so much more special to me and a memory I will remember for a long, long time. I have to say I am incredibly grateful for having been given the chance to be a part of the trip.

The Ledinghams Traverse Party. We knocked the bastard off!

Thanks go to my fellow traverse crew, J.B. (John Burgess, FTO and Trip leader), Big Pete (Pete Layt, chippie, BSS, and therefore my immediate boss on station, not that you'd know it by the freedom he gives us), Little Pete (Peter Lecompte, sparky, and my room mate in Hobart), Angus Cummings (Met Tech, trip trades assistant and the youngest on station), and Paul Amos (dieso, and in effect a Ledingham tourist as he didn't do a lot other than drive). It was an absolute pleasure to be a part of the trip with you all.

Auster Rookery, emperor penguins, and seal pups.

Early evening light on an iceberg near Macey Island, Antarctica.

It seems impossible to believe that my first visit to view the emperor penguins at Auster Rookery was over four months ago. That was the very beginning of June, and I had been in Antarctica for just over three months. Now with less than four and half months left I wonder where the time has gone, and I know my remaining days here will be over before I know it.

The pristine atmosphere allows for incredible light.

Our summer crew of eleven new expeditioners arrive in roughly one months time. It will be strange to see new faces. Having lived in such isolation for so long, I quite often wonder how the dynamics of our little community will be effected by the newcomers. We will discover soon enough, but I'm sure it will add even more fun to station life.

However, the fact that the sea ice will close for travel sometime around the end of November has spurred the station into action and has seen a number of trips recently undertaken, so as to spend as much time at Auster as possible. As I have said before, we may not get the opportunity to come this way again, and every trip could be your last.

This penguin CAN fly.... An Emperor exiting a hole in the sea ice.

I have visited five times now. More than some of us on station, but less than others. I hope to see them at least twice more. I have witnessed the varying stages of growth. From eggs carried on the fathers feet, to newly hatched chicks clinging to life by desperately hiding from the bitterly cold environment under their parents body, standing on the tops of their feet.

Little balls of fluff.

Now, the chicks are about half way to moulting (which occurs about January), and are little balls of fluff that tear around the place in search of their parents when they are feeling hungry, which seems like always. Gradually they are growing towards independence.

My last trip out we took advantage of the longer daylight and left at 2pm on Saturday afternoon for Macey Hut. Leaving in the afternoon gave us more time at the rookery on our first day, and allowed for a relaxing start on Sunday. This time three of us travelled on quad bikes, with another two travelling in a Hagg. A side benefit of this is that we were able to dump most of our gear in the Hagg and travel light on the quads. Quad travel on the sea ice is awesome, especially the glassy smooth blue ice. I couldn't stop myself from playing like a newly licensed teenager in his mothers car....... I call it reliving my youth. Some of my old mates that read this will remember what I'm talking about. Naturally it's all to do with safety, learning how to control a quad bike in a slide..... Yeah, I don't buy it either.

Tucker time.

So anyway, having been so many times now the novelty of the penguins has worn off a bit, and we have all started exploring the surrounding areas, finding tide cracks where the birds and seals enter and exit the water, and getting a little closer to bergs than we probably should do...... It's safe at the moment, with the cold things are still very frozen so not that likely to break up. It has given me many opportunities to photograph things other than penguins and their chicks. Recently we managed to get some great shots of penguins cavorting in a swimming hole which has been created from a tide crack.

Emperor Soup.

Another variation on the earlier visits now is the side trips to Islands along the route to view the Weddel seal pups. We saw the first two on the return leg of the last trip, so in future trips we expect to see a lot more. You can imagine how cute these little new-borns are. Their doe eyes draw smiles from everyone.

No matter how good a trip was, it is still always good to get home to station. Describing what you have seen to those that stayed behind while you were out playing I find cements the experience in my mind a bit more firmly. There's also the thrill of reviewing and sharing photo's with the others who accompanied you on the trip. Lastly the opportunity to share the experience though photo's on Facebook is always something I look forward to. Sharing the things I have seen with friends and hearing delight from them is one of the rewards of technology I really enjoy.


Barely a day old.

See what I mean about the eyes? (Photo Credit: Kate Kloza)

 

On that note I shall finish. I have just written my name up on the board for another trip this weekend. We leave Friday afternoon. Who's keen to come with me?

Climb Every Mountain...

Well, not every mountain, and in this case not actually a mountain. Just a tall island.

It was a beautiful day here today. Warm (-8.8 degrees, so warm compared to -30 degrees), sunny, and calm. Having been watching the forecast for a few days I decided to ride out to Welch Island with my mate Robbie, as we were both keen to get a few photo's from the top.


Welch Island from the sea ice.

So, after lunch quad bikes were loaded with our survival packs and also a tray bag containing a "quad recovery kit" (for self rescue from a tide-crack or when bogged in snow) and a "quad bivvy" (a tent type shelter you can erect between two quads in the event of rapid deterioration of weather).

We set off just before 1pm, and fanged across the sea ice towards Welch. A stop around the corner from station was suggested to photograph a berg that has a hole through the end of it that resembles a giant bullet hole. Soon after this we arrived at Welch, logged a radio call with VLV Mawson to report that we were off the sea ice, and then began the climb. Welch is only about three kilometres from station so it doesn't take long to get there.

The giant bullet hole.
From the other side it is almost perfectly round.

The climb is normally easy, unless like us you don't know the easy way. Instead Robbie and I zig-zagged up the steepest side, finally realising the easy way would have been to walk up an obvious spur (obvious when we crossed onto it about fifty meters from the summit!). Never mind, it was a good climb and meant I could change my plans of going to the gym when we returned to station.

The view from the top, looking toward station,
Casey Range in the background.

The views from the top were worth the effort of getting there. It is another place that I was able to enjoy the serenity, not a sound could be heard, other than the odd crack now and then from moving sea ice. The complete silence is one of the things I get great enjoyment from here. After half an hour or so at the top it was time to come down. It was an easier downwards path we took so we were soon back at the quad bikes and off across the ice to check out some seals. No pups in this group, so onwards we travelled, via a couple of patches of blue ice which gave us the opportunity to practice "skid control" on slippery ice (that the politically correct term for "we did some doughies").

After only two hours we were back on station and unpacking the quads. Such a small effort for such an awesome Sunday afternoon. Knowing how easy it is now I will do more of these sorts of quick trips in an effort to make the most of the time we have left here.


Zoomed photo of Mawson Station from a mile or so out on the sea ice.

The Emperors 2.0

It's been quite a while since I have written anything here. The reason for that is that there really hasn't been anything to write about. June and July are the months that provide us with the most darkness, which means the opportunity and the motivation to travel off station are minimal. I did in fact venture up on the plateau for a work trip to each of our three field huts with some others one day early in July. We chose a crystal clear day which meant the views were spectacular. The downside of the clarity was the temperature. Not taking into consideration any wind chill, the air temperature was around -40 degrees Celsius. So cold you could feel the surface of your tongue freezing as you breathed.

Now however the daylight hours are extending, which means more opportunity and enthusiasm for "jollies" out on the sea ice to visit the penguin rookery. It is still bloody cold (July and August are our coldest months) but on a calm day the low temperatures don't have the bite that you'd expect once you've acclimatised. The realisation that we are now virtually half way through our time here also boosts motivation to make the most of every day that presents itself as suitable for such opportunities. And so it was that last Sunday myself and six others departed Mawson at 8am bound for Auster Rookery. Four of us planned to stay overnight, with the other three returning to station that evening.

We arrived at Auster at 11.45am, after a very bumpy journey across approximately sixty kilometres of sea ice and snow drift.

Peak hour traffic, Antarctic style.

The Hagglunds we travel in are great machines, but generally are built for purpose, not creature comfort. Nearly four hours bouncing around in the back with virtually no suspension takes a toll on your body, especially with a lower back that likes to remind me of my age at the slightest opportunity.

Sunday was overcast but calm, which meant a comfortable day at the rookery. The light wasn't great for photo's but the penguins didn't care. Within minutes of arriving, and less than halfway from the Hagg to the rookery I found myself surrounded by a welcoming committee that had broken away from the massive congregation to come and greet us. This group had started walking towards the Haggs as soon as we arrived. When I stopped halfway across they deviated and made a beeline for me. Proof to me that they actually enjoy our company. This provided an early opportunity to fulfil a request I'd received from home. My neighbour back home is studying different ways to chill water as a school project, and Deb had suggested I should get some photo's of a glass of water in the snow or ice with some penguins in the background.

As soon as they noticed me they hurried over.

The penguins and the glass of water....

With the photo's taken, as well as a short video, I spent the next hour or so just enjoying the tranquillity of the location and the company of my new feathered friends.

Soon enough our time at the rookery was over for the day, and we departed for Macey Island and the hut that would be our home for the night. The other three travellers continued on toward Mawson while we unloaded our gear and proceeded to get the hut warmed up for the night. Each hut contains a small gas heater and a three burner cooker and oven. Along with this it has solar electricity as well as 230 volt circuitry which enables us to connect to a generator and plug in an electric fan heater. With all of these heat sources going it only takes an hour or two to bring the inside temperature up to a comfortable level. Soon enough the four of us were settled in with a hot cuppa and cheese and crackers, as we relived the days events.

Monday dawned an absolute cracker of a day. The sunrise was spectacular, and soon we were packed up and on our way back to the rookery.

The dawning of a perfect day.

The light that is presented here makes it almost impossible to take a poor photo.

The light was perfect for photography, and the penguins were just as keen to hang out with us as they always seem to be. Soon I was again surrounded by a group of nine, and we spent over an hour together before I had to move due to the fact I was starting to seize up. When I stood up and walked away all of my new friends followed me for several minutes, then some broke off and headed back into the larger group. Five of them however continued to follow, and eventually gathered around me again when I stopped about three hundred meters away on the other side of the rookery. They really are the coolest creatures. They walk up to you and just stand and look. Sometimes they'll circle you, but mostly they are just content to stand in front of you and hang out. The only conclusion I can draw is that they genuinely enjoy human interaction.

Again, the time to begin the journey home arrived all too soon, and we sadly said farewell to our friends once more. Each time I leave I am only too aware that I may never get the chance to come back. All it would take is for me to injure myself badly on station and my field travel would be severely limited. It is for this reason that we all take every opportunity we are given to get back out there again. Hence the reason I am planning another overnight trip this Thursday. The weather is looking good.

I know I've written it here before, but visiting the penguins at Auster really is a special thing There are many reasons why. The fact that I am amongst only a few people in the world who will ever have the opportunity to visit and interact with these special creatures in such a beautiful location is only a small part of it.

And they'll stand with you for hours. How could you not love them.

The rookery in the background. The angle doesn't show, but it would be over a kilometre long.

There are many things that make the experience so wonderful. The birds themselves are amongst the most beautiful you could wish to look at. Their plumage is just immaculate, and they are so open to us, curious and eager to approach us. They are also possibly the most gentle creatures I have ever encountered. I have not yet seen one emperor display even the slightest aggression to another. They just seem to coexist in absolute harmony. The location they choose to come to breed every year is possibly the most breath taking place I have ever visited. Not just for it's scenery, but for the sheer untouched and unadulterated rawness of it.

The obligatory selfie.

The fact that it is as isolated, and remote as you can get in this world is yet another aspect that adds to the experience.

We have roughly another four months until the sea ice weakens and closes to traffic. Unfortunately that day will come all too soon. Our schedule for the last half of our year here will be busy with various projects starting up as spring and summer develop. I will continue to make the most of every opportunity I am given to visit my new friends the emperors.


Future generations.

The day will sadly come when I will have to say good bye to them for the last time. I have come to enjoy their company immensely, and I will not be surprised if I find a tear in my eye when that moment arrives, knowing that I will most likely not pass this way ever again.