Glacier travel, crevasses, mountains and aurora. Part One of a two part adventure.

Kia ora whanau,

Well after a near two day delay, my opportunity to leave station and travel up on to the plateau finally eventuated. We were originally scheduled to depart at about 11am on Friday morning, but Friday arrived and presented to us gale force winds, blowing snow and poor visibility. Conditions such as this are not ideal for glacier travel ("sub-optimal" in the words of Trev, our comm's guy). Never mind, we used the delay to get in some early training we'd normally do around one of the huts up on the plateau, in the hope that we'd be able to get away early Saturday morning. Once again the weather spirits were not in agreement with that plan. At long last the weather broke and at 4.45pm we climbed aboard our trusty steeds (brand new Honda 350cc fuel injected quad bikes, mine had 1km showing on the clock), and headed on out of town.



Three quarters of our posse and our trusty steeds.
 

Our posse consisted of myself, Kim (our chef), Paul (one of the diesel mechanics) and of course the legendary J.B. (seasoned Field Training Officer, veteran of 13 Antarctic campaigns!!!). First stop was station limits to record our departure with comm's, then it was on up the hill to Gwamm. This is basically the point at which you radio comm's again and let them know you've made it up the hill, as at most times the hill is just an icy slope, which ends a long way down the hill, at a very long drop into a very icy ocean (that's if the ocean is not frozen, as it is most of the year). Fortunately our quad bike tyres are equipped with studs to make them safe for icy conditions. In our case the studs I refer to are actually 10mm tec screws, as the new studs sent down for the tyres do not fit the tool supplied for the job. Alas!! A bit of ingenious thinking saw the idea of tec screws being tested, and what do you know, they do the job perfectly.



The view from Gwamm

The view from Gwamm is pretty spectacular. You look out over the tail of the glacier, on to what seems like forever, over endless bergs that remind you of ships anchored off the coast somewhere. Something that takes a bit of getting used to here is the clarity of the air, leading to almost unlimited visibility. Believe it or not it actually makes it hard to judge distance. You can be looking at a landmark estimating that it's around ten kilometres away, and when you check a map realise that it's actually more like sixty, and yet you can make out features clearly.

So, from Gwamm, our mission was to travel to Rumdoodle Hut (not sure who named it that, but they need to come back and restock the rum, there was none left). Rumdoodle is actually the name of the mountains that climb up out of the ice above the hut. We arrived at about 6.30pm, after getting three of the quads bogged in a massive snow drift. Luckily we had plenty of hands to help drag them out. The hut sleeps six, at a squeeze, and is equipped with a gas stove and heater, lighting if you have a generator, an outhouse and a small deck. Very comfortable considering your surroundings. The huts are used frequently as a getaway for expeditioners who want some time out from the hustle and bustle of "town".


Rumdoodle Hut, with the sun setting over the David Ranges in the background.

Now, my mention of the comfortable conditions the hut provides was only judged from a brief dining experience which came after we'd "rehydrated" our dehydrated dinner outside on shellite fuelled pocket rocket burners. Yes we stayed overnight, but did we get to judge the comfort of the bunks? No we did not. Not for our hardy crew was the plush luxurious comfort of single bunks contained within four walls and a roof. No, no, no. As part of our field training we get to experience the wonder that is "bivvying". And no, these are not flash mod-con small tent like bivvys. Now, I've heard the bivvy affectionately described as chip packets by some of our crew that went before me. Think of the shape, and the noise when screwing up a chip packet, you'll understand. Actually in reality, I enjoyed a very comfortable night, once I'd more or less done away with the bivvy and relied solely on my sleeping bag. You see when you exhale, as we all know a certain percentage of that air is water vapour, which given the right conditions becomes condensation...............on the inside of your bivvy. In sub zero conditions that condensation quickly freezes, until of course you move and disturb the ice, which falls on you and becomes water again. You can see where I'm going here, hence my decision after a couple of hours to sleep mostly out of the bivvy. Surprisingly I was not cold even though the air temperature was around -7. I had layers on, but the sleeping bags we have are of exceptional quality, and I had my spare one under me as a mattress. I enjoyed it, and I'll do it again.

So, sleeping under the stars, yes. I have always been fascinated by a clear sky at night and I often find myself staring upwards on such nights, trying to get my head round all the possibilities that such vastness presents. It's something I've done since childhood, and there's nowhere I've seen that presents a starry night better than Antarctica. I lay awake for the first hour just gazing. I saw meteorites, several satellites, endless stars and planets, and something unusual, the southern cross more or less directly above me, as opposed to being in the southern sky as I've been used to for most of my life. Things like that take you by surprise. However, all this fades in comparison with the main event of the night. I woke again at about 1.30am and thought I'd take advantage and get some more star gazing done, which was when I noticed an odd wispy cloud that kept disappearing and then reappearing. I realised after a few minutes that I was watching an aurora for the first time in my life. What a spectacular show. Ghost like wispy shapes that flicker and wave all over the night sky, light up and dance at random. It was a special moment that I will long remember. The aurora was not spectacular as auroras go from what I'm told, but wow, it was spectacular to me. I'm still pretty excited about it now.

Anyway, it's getting late and I'm getting sore eyes from this computer screen so that's it for today. There's a lot more to come in this tale, so call back in for more in the next day or so.

For now,
Haere ra.

J.B., on the deck of Rumdoodle Hut on a spectacular Antarctic morning.

Sunset over the David Ranges, which are about 15kms away from where I took this photo. To me they look a lot closer.