Antarctic Mid-winter celebrations!

June 21 is officially the shortest day of the year in the southern hemisphere, generally considered mid-winter (ignoring the fact that winter has really just begun). Normally at home the only significance this day presents to me is the fact that the daylight hours now start extending, meaning soon I'll be able to get out fishing and diving after work again, and my spring deer stalking trip is not far away.

Not so in Antarctica. Here it is a time for a great celebration. Traditionally it was the celebration of reaching the halfway mark of an expedition, but to me it was a celebration of all who have been before us, and the friendship shared with my fellow expeditioners here at Mawson. Expeditions these days are scheduled to suit each station and the access made possible by climatic influences. Our's is the last of the three continental Australian stations to be resupplied due to the fact that we have to greatest amount of sea ice that only breaks out at the end of summer to allow ship access, if it breaks out at all. Therefore, we are still a long way from being halfway through our expedition. We have nearly another nine months until we arrive back in Hobart. Our colleagues at our two other continental stations will be home by the end of the year.

So it was then that the week leading up to June 21 saw a flurry of activity in preparation for the biggest day of the Antarctic calendar. As the plumbers it was our job to get the outdoor spa up and running (officially known as the "emergency snow melter", due to the fact that "officially" it doesn't exist). This is a big steel tank that has been cut in half  lengthways, with a package burner bolted on and a circulation pump plumbed in. It sounds easy, but in fact it took us three days to get it running and installed outside the Red Shed. It was worth the effort though judging by the enjoyment it provided to the few that used it. Our efforts seemed minor compared to the mammoth task that our chef Kim had in preparing a nine course meal. Several other members of our crew put a lot of effort in to the preparations as well, some a lot more than others but generally everyone chipped in (but as always it was the usual suspects putting the biggest effort in....). Kate, our Doc, took charge of decorating the dining room for the main function as she always does.

Again Kate transformed the room into something really remarkable. Sunday morning a brunch was planned to be held in one of the historic huts but blizz conditions put paid to this. Instead last minute decorations were made upstairs in the wallow (by the usual suspects, again).

The days programme started with brunch at 10am. This was a vast menu of pastries, brioche, smoked salmon, bacon, eggs, sausages, the list goes on.

Following this we all pitched in and cleaned up the wallow, then the kitchen and a few of us spent a bit of time in the kitchen doing what we could to help out the chef. At 1pm Kate opened the "cocktail bar" and like moths to a flame some of us found ourselves drawn in that direction. It was my week rostered as ERT leader so I had to limit my drinking, which these days doesn't bother me so much as it once would have.

At some stage during the afternoon official group photo's were taken, and eventually 4pm arrived and the main celebratory meal commenced. This seemed to go on forever, with no end to the food. I think we eventually finished eating at about 8pm, after having a break for speeches, and toasts to various countries and important people before dessert. My job was to toast New Zealand, which prompted me to research my own country's Antarctic history.

Once the eating was concluded, and the kitchen and dining room cleaned up, we all headed upstairs for the evening entertainment. This consisted of the traditional mid winter rendition of Cinderella (starring yours truly as Cinders),
plus a number of original performances by individuals. The nights formalities were capped off with the unveiling of our plaque marking the 68th Mawson ANARE. This is something that is produced every year to hang on the wall marking our time and effort here.

As would be expected on such an occasion most of the crew spent a few more hours propping up the bar, which is always a good way to spend a few hours here. A few laughs were had, and a few glasses of liquor were consumed, but by 1am the festivities were complete for another year. Despite my initial lack of enthusiasm in the lead-up to the event I ended up having a really great time. The whole day had a really good feel about it, and we all contributed to making it a success. The next big celebration will be Christmas and New Year, by which time we will have another nine expeditioners who will have joined us for the summer. I eagerly look forward to that, as I'm sure it will be another memorable time, soon after which will be our departure for home.

Sea ice and the Emperors.

Last Saturday was a sad day in my time here at Mawson. Our normal Saturday involves two hours work in our respective trades between 8am and 10am, then we have a cooked brunch, and after this is our time to perform our "station duties". This particular Saturday I was greeted at smoko by one of my colleagues telling me to ring Deb urgently, and to do it from my room. Straight away I new that Jazz, my black Labrador and best mate of thirteen years had passed away. Something that I had always known was on the cards with me being away for so long, but none the less not easy news to accept. She was a special dog.

 

So, with that still on my mind three days later I was not exactly full of enthusiasm to participate in the field on a trip to Auster penguin rookery that we'd had planned for two weeks. With the thought that it would help take my mind off the loss I decided to go and try and make the most of it. In the end it proved to be a good decision.

I packed my field travel survival gear on Monday afternoon, and after work our party of four loaded up one of the Hagglunds with our gear and food etc ready for an early departure the next morning. Because of the remote possibility of the Hagg ending up in the sea through a tide crack our survival packs have to be lashed to the roof of the Hagg trailer. This is so that in the rare event we should end up "in the drink" we can access our gear without having to climb into the machine. I should point out that they do actually float, and have bilge pumps in them also. However, in the past they have had one or two sink due to the bilge pumps being clogged up. We have recovery kits we carry which are set up to winch them back on to the ice should such an event occur.

Tuesday morning arrived and after a quick meeting over breakfast the four of us piled into to the Hagg at 8.30am, called in our first radio sched as we left station, and then we were off. Our route was out across the sea ice, which at the moment is anywhere between 800 and 900mm thick. You'd expect that this would be a nice smooth trip, but normally we deal with snow drifts and sastrugi that can make it very slow going. Our first hour was good, but after that we were down to about eight kilometres per hour for some time. By 9.30am the sun had slowly risen close enough to the horizon to throw a bit of light on our surroundings, lighting up bergs as well as the ice plateau of the continent. The colours of the entire horizon at this point of the sun are truly amazing.

Our Hagg on the vast desert like sea ice.

Sea ice travel is quite a unique experience. The closest way for me to describe it would be to compare it to driving across a vast endless desert, which is studded now and then with massive rocks of varying shapes, only in this case the rocks are icebergs. Some of the open stretches of ice are just so vast all you see is just a flat continuous ice plain out in front of you that seems endless. Some of the icebergs you pass by are gigantic and majestic. At one stage we stopped in a very open area, with bergs surrounding us but at least twenty miles away. I just had to get out and take it all in. It seemed incredible to me, having spent so much of my life on the ocean, to able to stand ON the ocean in such vastness. At the same time the flat vastness of it just blew my mind.

A distant berg on the sea ice at dawn.

Eventually we had clicked off the 55kms to Macey hut where we would be staying the night. We slowly cruised between the bergs that surround Macey Island, and continued our journey towards Auster rookery. The bergs surrounding this area are numerous, resulting in a very indirect course. If you'd looked at our GPS trail you'd think we'd been drinking. However, after another 10kms had clicked over, we passed between two bergs and there they were, a long lone of huddled emperor penguins. Immediately memories of the documentary "March of the Penguins" came to me. This was the rookery that was filmed as the subject of that documentary. In fact, one of the watercraft operators who was on the ship we sailed to Mawson was one of the film crew. To be standing there, seeing something that so many people have seen on TV and is so well known, but only maybe a thousand have actually seen in person was a very special thing indeed. Once again I gave thought to the good fortune I have had to be selected to come to Mawson Station.

I named her in memory of Jazz.

On our first day we spent about two and a half hours with the emperors. They really are a beautiful bird. Their plumage close up is so detailed and intricate, and their colours just blend so well. They look so graceful, but also awkward as they march the many miles across the ice toward the rookery. How they are able to find their way back there year after year is probably something we will never understand.

I sat for a while on the first day just soaking it all in. The scale and beauty of the surrounding bergs, with the light from the low sun was spectacular, and the penguins with their gentle presence just capped it off. At one stage I stood looking around at the scene and I had to sit down. I refer to it as sensory overload, one of the others

Auster Rookery. The sight that greeted us on arrival.

saw me and called it an "Antarctic moment". It happens down here frequently. None of the emperors came overly close to me on the first day, other than one that passed a meter away from me on its way to the rookery. It was as if I wasn't even there, but I was still thrilled never the less. Long before it seemed like what was actually two and a half hours was up, we headed back to the Hagg and began our drunken trail back to the hut for the night arriving at the hut at about 3.30pm, just as a full moon was rising between the bergs. Yet another spectacle. After unloading our gear, Trev cracked a bottle of port, Kate made a up a cheese platter, and the four of us sat down and began a very pleasant evening which capped off a perfect day.

Full moon at Macey.

The next day, we completed our 10am radio sched after a quick clean up, loaded the Hagg and drove back to the rookery. The sight of the line of penguins on the second day was no less spectacular than on our first arrival. This time however they seemed a lot more interested in spending time with us. Kate had one keep her company at about a meter and a half away for over half an hour, while I had several come within three or four meters and just hang out. The highlight was when Kate stood up and wandered off, "her" penguin just stood and looked around as if to say "hmmm, what now?". That was until it spotted me about seventy meters away and seemed like it thought "oooh, there's another one, but that one's red!! I'll check that one out too!!" Straight away it started walking in my direction. She/he (I prefer to think she...) came up and stood about a meter in front of me and made a few noises, then walked around behind me and stopped for a while to check me out. Then, after a few seconds came back in front and turned her back to me while looking over her shoulder. Then, around the back she went again, and again in front with her back turned. I could only figure that what she was expecting me to do was show her what I looked like from behind. She did this about five or six times over the fifteen minutes we spent together. It was both amusing and

intriguing. Eventually it was time to depart on our four hour journey back to Mawson. I was surprised when I stood up, instead of being alarmed my friend just stood there and looked up at me. I explained that I had to go (I doubt she understood) and started to walk away. After a few paces I looked back to see her following me!! She did this for about ten meters and finally stopped and just looked around, seemingly lost as to what to do next. It made me feel like picking her up and bringing her home.

The journey home was via a different route, closer to the coast, with some interesting bergs on the way. We completed out trip in near darkness arriving with just enough time to unpack and squeeze in a beer while describing our trip to others on station and comparing experiences with the others that had already been.

Lone ranger.

New arrivals.

The sea ice remains open for travel through until mid November, so many more trips will be made to Auster by us all. The rookery is an aspect that is unique to Mawson Station so it is up to us all to make the most of the opportunity. It is a sought after posting, so there is no guarantee we will be given the chance to come here again.

Back turned again....



Late afternoon light on the plateau.

A berg on the journey home.

Berg after sunset.