Iced Goffy: Lazy Sunday......

An email I received from my oldest brother this morning commenting that I hadn't shown any photo's of "my home" made me think. It occurred to me that the things I see every day and take for granted and therefore don't think are that interesting, may actually be of interest to people I know at home. For example, my room to me is just that, a room. But when I think of the first time I entered the Redshed I remember I was curious to see where I would lay my head for the next year or so. I was also keen to explore the rest of the building to see what was on offer. In this blog I will try and give you a view of what it is like to live in the Redshed on a Sunday, and I'll also give you a brief look through the lens of my camera at some of the areas I frequent on a regular basis.

The Redshed, centre. Where I live.

So, Sundays are our only full day of rest. Provided you aren't a plumber that is. As I've said before, every day water has to be pumped from the melt bell and Sunday is no exception. This Sunday it was my turn (myself and the other plumber alternate each Sunday). So, after dragging myself out of bed at 7.30am (bear in mind the sun isn't rising until about 7.15 am here at the moment), I headed outside into -20.9 degrees, with another -19 degree wind chill on top of that, and trekked up the hill into a 37 knot headwind at 8am to record the previous days water usage, activate the pump, and make a few checks. It's not all that bad really as today is another spectacular day (the katabatic winds always blow strong here every morning), and seeing the sun climbing over a glacier as it does every morning is not a sight I'll become tired of viewing in a hurry. If I were to be truthful, the Met guys alternate on Sundays also. They have weather ob's to make, and a balloon to release every day at 4pm, so it's not just the plumber who has work to do.

With the water transfer taken care of I returned to the warmth and comfort of the Redshed for breakfast and conversation with one or two other early risers. It was a big night in the bar last night so there aren't many people about. Fortunately I was sensible (read "tired") and went to bed at 10pm, while some stayed until 4am?? We celebrated the birthday of Paul, our senior dieso, with a small pig on the spit and a Hawaiian luau themed night of cocktails and frivolity.

My room. The Aussies call it a Donga. Note the chart of my beloved Bay of Islands on the wall.

After breakfast was done I returned to my room with the intention of reading for an hour, before I made a couple of calls to NZ for my weekly catch up with Deb. I've also decided to call my Mum and Dad once a month to keep in touch. Alas the reading was not to be. I instead received a visit from Robbie, one of our sparkies (who's also my next door neighbour) enquiring about the page that "we" received at 6.20am this morning. I say "we" because I didn't notice anyone other than myself in the BMCS room this morning at 6.20am checking the computer that monitors our systems. It's all good, it wasn't a major, and it gave me an opportunity to poke some stick at him. We have a computer system that monitors the temperature and flow on all our external site services pipework, and also temperature and ventilation in all the buildings. All our external pipes are heavily insulated and have a heat trace cable that runs along the bottom of the pipes to prevent freezing. It is critical in this environment that such aspects are monitored. The consequences of pipework or a building freezing would be very expensive and create an unbelievable amount of work for us tradies. Generally not an experience I want to have. Most times we receive a page the alarm has reset itself by the time we log into the BMCS computer system, and all we have to do is acknowledge the alarm. Now and then we might actually have to head out and investigate the problem further. Murphys law dictates that this is usually in the middle of the night during a 6o+ knot blizzard!! So far I've not had the pleasure, but I'm confident the opportunity will present itself in due course.

Now, you can only sit in your room for a certain period before you feel the need to get out, so I wandered down to the lounge to see what was going on. Surprisingly there was no one around. I ventured into the cinema and sat down with Charlie as he had just put a movie on. Not the most memorable movie I've seen, in fact I don't even remember what it was called, but it was a relaxing hour and a bit none the less. It turned out there had been a climbing session on down at the wall in the Green Store (the warehouse) that I was unaware of so that's where a few people were. Two others were downstairs in the brewery making beer (that is to be commended!). By this stage it was time for lunch.

Our kitchen here is one that would be the envy of many restaurants. Perhaps not the layout, but definitely the size and facilities. Our chef Kim goes out of his way to ensure we know we are all welcome here, whether or not he is present. Sundays are self catering (or catch and kill) as it's his day off. Monday is another day off for Kim so one of us is rostered on to cook for the rest. So far we have had some pretty good food from people who don't normally cook a lot. The pressure will be on when it comes to my turn. I'm not sure which of my companions here know, but I've spent the odd night or two in restaurant kitchens in my time.

During lunch I discussed with Paul the possibilities of making a "priest" (club) for dispatching the game fish I am intending to catch on my return to NZ. He was quite interested in the idea and came up with some great suggestions. The dieso's have in their workshop all sorts of machinery and different metals that enable them to fabricate parts from bare metal if they need to. I've just provided them with a need. It will be a good project to focus on for a while.

And here I now sit (recline actually) on my bed typing my latest entry in my blog. The rest of the day will be equally as relaxed. It's still a beautiful day here and I may go out for a walk later. Yesterday was a similar day and I enjoyed a nice solo stroll across the other side of West Arm. The beauty of this is that you can get far enough away from station that you can't hear the generators and you can experience one of the things I most enjoy, complete silence. Not a sound at all. It's just perfect when you're gazing across the frozen water at a glacier that glistens with the suns rays. Dinner will be a simple affair, and then no doubt someone will choose a movie later on to finish the weekend.

Alternatively I might head along into the Dog Room with my Kindle. The Dog Room is a very special room for me. It is a quiet, sound proofed room that has been built as a shrine or memorial to all the huskies who were the backbone of the Antarctic program for many years. It has one of the best views in the building. These hard working dogs gave their all for their men up until the early nineties, when they were removed due to the fear of disease being transmitted to seals. As a dog lover I love the fact that the AAD has honoured these faithful animals in this way. They are all named on a tree that shows their bloodline, and there are photo's of various dogs on the wall. It is obvious that the dogs were loved and valued by the men that worked them. I wish the dogs were still a part of our life here. Having dogs to run and care for would be the icing on the cake for me. Still that would make it even harder to leave when my time to RTA arrives.

So, in a very small nut shell, that's what life is like here at Mawson Station on a Sunday. I hope that may satisfy any curiosity some have had.