Big Antarctic project

When I was preparing to come here, I had in mind the whole time Antarctica as a place. My project was based around the environment – ice and light movement, and their transience and dynamic nature in relation to glass making and object ownership. This is summer here and everything is indeed very obviously in continual movement….3 weeks before I arrived, the sea around Rothera was completely frozen, now huge ice bergs that are here one minute can either slowly drift away or let out a thunderous roar and quite literally turn upside down and implode in front of your eyes. Sea ice gently chinks together and ice drips everywhere.

Most of the scientific field trips take place in the summer, so groups of 2-4 scientists and field assistants (very clever fit young people who know how to avoid falling down a crevasse and climb mountains, ski, and generally make sure everyone stays alive) have to be transported out by little twin otter planes to remote locations where they can take measurements and collect data. Weather here changes by the hour though and plans change continually – no one seems unduly stressed by having to postpone their project though, its just part of being here.

Antarctica is beginning unravel…. it means more than just the physical environment, it's the people here that are equally dynamic. There are builders, plumbers, glaciologists, electricians, biologists, boat handlers, physicists, engineers, meteorologists, maintenance staff, radio communication controllers, pilots, chefs, divers. Every time I sit down next to someone, I learn something new. Exchanges of information, the unselfish sharing of knowledge, and the feeling of everyone working together towards a common goal in an isolated place is giving the drama of the environment some competition.

Christmas came and went….Cyril, the French chef made a brilliant dinner and gave us a Queens speech….don't ask!

Kirk took Simon, Chris,Titus and me down an ice crevasse and Ally, Matt and I built a snow rabbit with wings and big breasts.

Rothera has been a busy place over the last few days, people constantly arriving and departing, new arrivals and 'winterers' (those that make up the 20 or so individuals that stay over the winter without visitors or food drops from the JCR) mixing in together. I'm sharing a room with Ally, one of the divers who has signed up to be at Rothera for 3 years – quite a commitment! No wonder she has more clothes than me….but only just.

One of the first things we had to do on arrival was the field training. The Brits are the only country that allow recreational sports around their Antarctic bases. The direct area around us is full of crevasses and being summer, ice sheets breaking off as they near the sea, so we're taken out into the field and taught the most amazing skills – abseiling (just ask me about french prussiks and jumars now! whether I'll remember them in a weeks time is another story…….), ice axe arrests, and basic body belaying. Oh yes, the skidoos are the transport of choice to get up the hill.

We camped out in tents the same as Captain Scott himself would have used, tilly lamps and 'man food' (wooden boxes issued for the field full of dried chicken korma, butter, 'biscuits brown' and lots of chocolate…..I sensed a high fat theme going on for obvious thermal reasons and thought it not the place to mention vegetables) kept us well fed (?)and warm. We slept on thick sheep fleeces inside massively fat sleeping bags, it was one of the best nights sleep I've had.

Matt, Chris, Rob, Jamie and I sat and snowboarded on the top of the hill at midnight, and went back to sit inside our tents to drink sloe gin and ponder the universe – another difficult night in the Antarctic……..

We're just approaching Rothera this morning after 10 days at sea.Yesterday was one of these days that will stay with me forever…..I'm just posting some pics for now until we get off the ship and the internet connection is better.

Ok, in my bunk finally at Rothera…….. it's past midnight and still light outside. It doesn't matter that I know why its 24hrs daylight, it still feels bizarre and makes me feel that i shouldn't really be in bed, so I thought I'd write this instead.

The last 2 days have been a blur of sensory overload.

We all got up really early yesterday on the ship because we knew we'd be sailing through the spectacular Gerlache Straight (a narrow channel between Anvers and Brabant Islands and the main Antarctic peninsula). At 5am, the light was already blinding into the cabin – no more going outside anymore without putting on all the proper cold weather gear we were all issued with. There was a profound quiet on the top deck of the JCR that morning as we all tried to take in what was all around us. We use words like breathtaking, awesome, spectacular, so often that when we want to really use them for what they mean they've lost their impact. All of us were left hopelessly attempting photographs which could never touch how we felt on that cold, blindingly bright December morning before breakfast.

Birthday Long Island tea on the top deck, and a jolly off the ship to the old BAS base Faraday, now run by the Ukranians and called Verdansky all got squeezed in too.

Arriving today into Rothera has made me feel a bit low. It's been brilliant fun living on board ship……. a mixture of too many late nights, early mornings and excitement have kept me on an high. Now our ship has landed and we all change.

This is now the 4th day of being at sea on board the James Clark Ross. We're out in the middle of Drakes Passage, a notoriously dangerous part of the sea where the Pacific joins the Atlantic in a 600-mile gap between South America and the Antarctic Peninsula. There's a big ocean swell which is proving quite challenging for some people, but so far I'm feeling rather pleased with my stomach's sea faring abilities. We've had it easy on board until today, now you've got to pay proper attention to what you leave where in case it goes flying. Last night it was Richard in his chair who slid gracefully across the floor.

We're making very slow progress because of the scientific work going on. The ship has to stop every few hours to to drop a device overboard which measures conductivity, temp, and depth, as well as a few other things. At the moment the ocean depth is 4000m, so it takes a while to get down and back up again.

I think I'm becoming institutionalised, and whats worse, I think I quite like it…….breakfast at 7.30 sharp, check e.mails, then maybe a visit to the ships gym (or ships cupboard with a few bits of equipment in it would be a more accurate description). Lunch at 12 sharp, followed by a variety from amongst the following – reading, photographing albatrosses, videoing unsuspecting people on board, talking, sorting said photos, thinking, drinking tea. Dress for dinner (oh yes, no slumming) 6.45 sharp, followed by retiring to bar, or up to the bridge to watch the birds and the sunset. The only fly in the ointment is that I foolishly agreed to give a talk about my work to everyone, other than that pretty much a perfect existence really.

I arrived in the Falkland Islands on Saturday afternoon, thoroughly exhausted after 2 days of long haul travelling. The journey so far though has already been amazing, the people from BAS that are travelling with me are great fun and any fears I might have had about not being part of a scientific team have completely disappeared……everyone so far is enthusiastic and supportive of the writers and artists program.

The flight across the Andes mountains into Santiago, and from Santiago down to Punta Arenas on the southern tip of Chile was, I thought , going to be what I'd be waxing lyrical about in this entry……. great brown paper crunckles of desert landscape gradually developing into mountainous peaks interspersed with grey blue glaciers. The mountains just seemed to keep on coming. Punta Arenas was not what I had expected from my mum's old photograph albums, it was gritty, hard working, cold and windy. I liked it though, it had a lively young population, and a 'take me as you find me' unpretentious feel.

The complete and utter show stopping, absolute winners so far on my trip (after a two and a half hour off road trip yesterday to Volunteer Point on a the north east inlet of east Falkland island) were the penguins!!!! People talk about the experience of swimming with dolphins as being a profound and moving experience, I think walking with penguins must be up there in the same league. There were 3 species of penguins, the inquisitive Gentoo's gathered quietly around me in a circle as I sat on the beach, I felt like a very honoured guest, and a little embarrassed by the intensity directed at me. The Magellan's slept at the entrance to their burrows and hurriedly crept away to scrutinise me shyly from below. The King penguins were stately and super model professional at standing is exquisite poses.

I have quite fallen in love with the penguins, especially the Magellans.