Gazing dreamily at the sea ice

Ice healing.  This is something new and very exciting!  It seems that the ship has more ways of breaking through ice than just a specially shaped hull.  When the ice gets very dense, as it was for much of the journey north from Rothera and all around Signy, there is some magic button that can be pressed to make the ship rock from side to side, breaking ice and helping with forward progress.  When that fails you can either reverse and try a different route or reverse and ram into the same bit of ice again in the hope that this time it will crack.  Hanging out in the cargo holds when this is going on is fairly exciting - bit like in Titanic when the water rushed in over the car that Kate and Leo had just been sitting in, drowning the two men in white uniforms who were chasing them (did that actually happen or did I imagine it?)  We have no cars in the holds, no one is wearing Victorian costumes and no water has been rushing in anywhere on the ship, but I do have a rather vivid imagination.

Tipping the ship from side to side to break the ice

I have been terribly unproductive over recent days and have spent much of my time sat in the surgery with the door open staring out at the ice (and the penguins and seals that inhabit it).  I blame the many late nights I spent enjoying the all night sun around Rothera and then a very late one on Christmas day - I'm clearly too old for those kind of antics.  However, it will soon be New Year and I will turn over a new leaf.  Maybe get on with a bit more laminating.  However, in more positive and very unexpected news, I have managed to go cold turkey on the jaffa cakes in an early attempt at a New Year's Resolution - 4 days and counting! 

The JCR as seen from Signy

Cargo tender at Signy on only the third sunny day they have had there since we left them some time ago!

Surprisingly we did actually make it in to Signy to drop off and pick up people.  Unfortunately, when we came back to refuel the base the next morning, an awful lot of ice had blown into the bay and it was impossible to get the cargo tender in.  I believe they have plenty of fuel for now and I suspect the other BAS ship (the Shackleton) will be given the task of refuelling when they call in next year.  It proved very, very tricky to capture just how incredible the expanse of sea ice really was, but I think the black and white pictures maybe do it more justice than the colour ones.  It was also interesting to see how the wildlife responded to a big red ship bearing down on them.  Some of the seals appeared to want to fight it, others were catatonic with fear, others rapidly (and rather ungracefully) lolopped into the sea and some just couldn't care less and carried on sunbathing.  The penguins either looked confused or bemused until they decided to dive for cover at the last minute.

Christmas on the JCR

It seems unlikely that I will ever again walk into a bar that contains someone wearing a fleecy penguin onesy and someone else with a condom on his head, with eyes drawn onto it, who is dancing like he's at his own private rave.  Probably no bad thing, but it made for an interesting and memorable Christmas this year.

Airstrip and dock area at Rothera - lots of busy people

Evening sun over the runway

The days running up to Christmas were also pretty awesome as much of the time was spent at Rothera, a truly delightful place with many exciting things to do and lovely people to see.  Admittedly, much of my time was spent in the ship's galley helping to prepare for Christmas dinner.   I don't think I've ever cooked a proper Christmas dinner at home, but if I have done then it wasn't for over 30 people and definitely didn't take me 5 days to prepare for.  However, I had a most enjoyable time learning how to make many exciting things (including pinning a salmon and de-boning a chicken), and although I'm fairly sure my presence was in no way vital to proceedings (and at times may have hindered them), I think I may have provided a certain amount of amusement to the chefs with my total and utter lack of culinary knowledge and skills.  Highlights of the meal included salmon cured in beetroot and vodka and haggis and pork stuffing, as well as a nice glass of red wine.  The happenings after the meal were more 'interesting' and probably not suitable for sharing here.  However, due to various issues with the Christmas tree, I am now in possession of a set of fairy lights and my cabin looks amazing!  I haven't opened the blackout blinds since I acquired them as I don't want to ruin my sparkly grotto by letting the daylight in.



Christmas Day was actually spent at sea in the end, and we are now making our way (very slowly) through a lot of ice on our way to Signy to refuel the base.  However, prior to leaving Rothera  some exploration of the base was possible (when I wasn't slaving away over a hot stove and all that).  More importantly skiing was possible, and this skiing was a little different from your average alpine ski trip.  As always, I was reminded that I am in no way a natural skier and should most definitely stick to the boarding, even when this is on a borrowed board with boots two sizes too big.  However, when you are being towed up a slope behind a skidoo at quite a pace with bits of icy snow going everywhere and a view of mountains and sea to ski down to, who cares whether you look like a French ski guide or not (ok, so I did care a bit that I didn't, but much less than I normally do!) 

Outings with BAS staff are invariably a very orange affair - snowcat included!

Not a great hair day but I guess you can't have everything!

I also made it out for a couple of morning runs around the airstrip.  In normal circumstances it has to be said that doing laps around a gravel track would do little to inspire me, but when you have to change course to avoid penguins and see massive chunks of iceberg breaking off and crashing into the sea with an enormous splash, it's all just a little less tedious than your average 10km jog.  I also managed to get Mike to take me on a trip up one of the masts - no small achievement and definitely a highlight of the trip.  I've essentially been pestering him to let me up the main mast since we joined the ship, but apparently there are bits of paper that need to be signed and also the fact that he doesn't trust me not to hurl myself off it into the sea (less of a risk I would say now that we are out of the tropics).  Anyway, I have now been allowed up the radar mast and took lots more pictures with a silly lens to make it look even more impressive than it actually was.





We should be arriving at Signy fairly soon, but the amount of ice we are encountering along the way means all estimations of times and even date of arrival are proving tricky.  It may be that we can't get into the base at all, which will no doubt be more than a little annoying for the people we are due to drop off and pick up, so fingers crossed this is not the case.  More pictures of ice to follow soon now the sun has finally come out again! 

Also, Happy New Year!!!

Sunny days in the sea ice

The internet appears to have suddenly become super fast, so I am just going to crack on with the blogging before it returns to its usual, painfully slow, pace.  In the last few days I have taken somewhere in the region of 700 photos.  This makes it extremely tricky to decide which ones to put up here and is also causing me a massive editing headache.  We appear to have pleased the weather gods in some extraordinary way, and the last few days have been indescribably spectacular.  In view of this I will again keep the twittering to a minimum and just share some of the many pictures taken.

The day spent at Vernadsky (now run by the Ukrainians, but previously a British base called Faraday) was easily one of the best of the trip so far.  As can be seen below, the scenery was terribly nice, the Ukranians extremely friendly and welcoming (the home brew vodka would almost certainly cause permanent blindness if drunk in sufficient quantities) and the penguins delightful as always.  I'm not sure what I've done in a previous life to deserve all this, but it must have been something pretty epic!





It's possible I've got a bit carried away with the fish-eye lens recently



Penguins on icebergs - happy days!



Taken at about 1.30 am - as close as it gets to sunset here

Other than taking an obscene amount of pictures, I have continued to laminate anything I can get my hands on.  Now that I'm vaguely trusted in the engine room, the sign making possibilities are seemingly endless, and there is a reasonable chance I will use up the entire ship’s supply of laminating envelopes before I’m done. 

In other news, the rowing machine has sadly lost its attraction for me in recent weeks.  However, in view of the slight jaffa cake issue I have going on at the moment, exercise is basically mandatory.  An alternative had to be found and I have now moved from the gym to a cargo hold and started circuit classes for one.  As can be seen from the picture below, this isn’t exactly a luxury exercising facility, but the wooden crates being stored there give off a rather pleasant woody aroma so it's not all bad.  I have also managed to procure a pair of boxing gloves so I can punch the bag to my heart’s content and found a polystyrene box so I can reach the pull-up bar - what more could a girl possibly want?

The downside of having a bath

Well since the last blog update (many moons ago, due in part to me being rubbish, and in part to the internet being rubbish), I am happy to report that I continue to have a most enjoyable time aboard the red floating palace.  Unfortunately, all illusions that the Falklands are a sundrenched wonderland were cruelly dashed during the few days we spent in Stanley at the start of the month.  Our first port of call was Mare Harbour as we needed to take on a ridiculously large quantity of fuel, having now been floating around at sea for some considerable time burning it up.  In the few days prior to coming alongside, as I became increasingly twitchy, I had been starting to suspect that I may not be entirely suited to life on a small ship after all.  I headed off at the first opportunity for a run along the coast in search of penguins, turquoise water and a clear head.  The beach along from Mare Harbour is not mined, so it was possible to run along soft white sand with crystal clear water lapping up gently next to me.  After surviving a particularly vicious dive bomb attack by some extremely territorial Antarctic terns, I eventually made it to the penguins and all was good in the world again.  After a fair bit of splashing, twirling and cartwheeling in the shallow water (me, not the penguins), it was time for the bracing run home, straight into a biting head wind and some very chilly rain.  The presence of brightly coloured waterproof jackets moving towards me alerted me to the fact I was no longer alone on my beautiful deserted beach and, more importantly, that the twirling may have been witnessed by others.  I hope this was not the case as it was neither graceful nor well choreographed and, if I’m totally honest, not really appropriate behaviour for someone of my age.

An extremely bright and colourful refuelling boat

Another highlight from the time ashore was a most agreeable evening walk to Gypsy Cove, complete with dramatic sunset, bottle of beer, Twix bar and enough penguins to satisfy even my obsession with them.  Sadly penguins are not the brightest of creatures and, as we wandered home along the cliff path, we somehow ended up herding about 20 of them along in front of us.  Needless to say this did not please me greatly as they kept tripping over their own feet and falling onto their bellies and, at one point, looked like they may leap off a cliff onto the rocks below.  There was little to be done other than walk incredibly slowly and accept the fact that we would arrive back at the ship in the dark.  I also made it back out to the lighthouse, again forgetting to pick up the key from the museum which would allow me to climb to the top of it.......maybe next time.  It was a little damper than when I pottered out there last time, but was made considerably more enjoyable by the availability of mince pies and jaffa cakes (addiction is a strong word but it may be getting to that stage).  The sea lions we came across on the way home ensured that it was in absolutely no way an unpleasant excursion and, since I was totally soaked anyway, there was no need to faff around rolling up trousers to go paddling, also good.  The only slight downside to the day was the mild case of trench foot that I gave myself, which lasted for a couple of days and was really most unpleasant.  As it turns out, trench foot does not (as I thought for many years) refer to horrible fungal feet that develop over a long period of having wet feet, but is in fact something that happens if you warm up cold, wet feet too quickly.  For example, this might occur if you were to fill up the the bath that lives in the ship’s surgery (and is meant to be used to treat people who are suffering from hypothermia) with lovely warm and bubbly water and then get into it with very cold, damp and already white and wrinkly feet.  I won’t pretend that the bath was a spur of the moment event - I bought bubble bath that morning in anticipation of this momentous occasion.  However, when I woke up the next morning and nearly vomited with the pain coming from my feet and then had to hobble around like an old lady because it felt like someone was attacking my feet with several red hot pokers, I suspected that someone, somewhere was telling me that I was not meant to be using the hypothermia bath for my own personal enjoyment.  Having said that, it would be a shame to let the rest of the bubble bath go to waste.....



Pictures above and below courtesy of Andy Smith



I really need to learn how to use photoshop to straighten horizons, but this is a sea lion 

The time in Stanley soon came to an end though and, after we exchanged scientists, cargo and got rid of a lot of waste, it was time to head off South again, down to Rothera and proper Antarctica.

Whale watching and laminating

I awake to the phone ringing loudly next to me.  Since discovering the blackout blind in my cabin, I have been sleeping rather too well and was roused from a very deep sleep, and a dream that I only vaguely remember involving penguins and murderers (I have been watching The Killing recently which explains the latter topic).  Anyway, it’s the Chief Officer, who apologises for waking me at 4.30am but tells me there are a number of humpback whales messing about near the ship and that he thought I might like to see them.  I feel a huge sense of relief - the last time I was being woken by phonecalls at 4.30am was in Tanzania and it generally involved someone trying to die.  I briefly toy with the idea of heading up in my pyjamas for fear I will miss them if I'm not quick, but dismiss this idea swiftly after remembering the number of comments I got when I turned up at a fire drill carrying my boiler suit and wearing white and blue spotted pyjamas and safety boots – in my defence I was in the shower at the time of the alarm and thought I had done rather well to muster as quickly as I had.  Luckily my clothes were usefully strewn around the bedroom floor where I had filed them carefully the night before, and I was soon up on the Bridge.  The whales really were very close to the ship, showing no signs of going anywhere and putting on quite the show.  I then had the dilemma of whether to wake the 2^nd engineer, who had definitely mentioned wanting to see whales, but hadn’t specifically stated this would be the case at 4.30am.  However, as one popped his head out of the water and another one showed off his tail, I decided that no one would rather be asleep than whale watching.  They stayed around the ship for over an hour and only headed off when the science work that had been going on was over and the ship had to move.  I totally failed to take my camera and have therefore had to steal a couple of pictures from Rich, who takes much better pictures than me anyway.

All whale pictures coutesy of Richard Turner - http://www.richardturnerphotographs.co.uk/

Apart from that, the science work has continued in earnest and has involved collecting and dropping off mooring buoys, fishing for krill and then measuring them or watching them for a bit before dissecting out their stomachs, calibrating echo sounding equipment and doing lots of other measurements using complicated and expensive kit with 3 letter acronyms.  Clearly I've still failed to discover the finer details of the science work, but one of the scientists on the ship is writing a far more educational blog than me and explains it all much better than I ever could.  I will therefore continue with my usual inane mutterings and direct you to her site for all things science related.

http://www.etelive.org/content/contentete.numo?id=204

A sediment trap being brought onboard having been sat in the sea for about a year (collecting sediment I would assume - I am indeed a font of scientific knowledge)

In order to do the calibrating we had to head in close to South Georgia and therefore got to have a look at the old whaling station at Stromness.  Unfortunately, the tightness of the schedule meant no trips ashore were possible, so all pictures had to be taken from afar with a ridiculously large lens.  Rather disappointingly a cruise ship turned up in the afternoon and started ferrying passengers ashore for a closer look round and a wander up the very pleasant looking valley (which I believe is where Shackleton came down after his epic walk across the island).  Hopefully I will get back there one day.

Stromness as seen from the safety of the ship

What's left of the whaling station - lots of asbestos means no one can go near it these days and it is rapidly disintegrating



Shackleton's valley - guarded by a rather large seal and reindeer contingent

I have been mostly occupying my time by indulging my passion for laminating and have now made new signs for the cupboards in the surgery and for all the little boxes containing fuses in the electrician’s workshop (seems there are over a hundred different types of fuse on this ship!).  Apparently, if I’m really lucky I may even be allowed to make signs for all the stuff in the engineers’ store.  That will be a lot of laminating.  I'm keeping my fingers crossed they decide I can be trusted to spend time down near the engines without pressing buttons or introducing an evil-looking white cat and pretending I'm in a Bond film.

Can you have too many pictures of ice?

In actual fact we left the ice a couple of days ago, but since I've not had access to the internet for that time (the surgery computer was deemed too old and rubbish and therefore had to be replaced), I have only just regained the ability to put pictures up.  We are now floating around somewhere vaguely near South Georgia doing science work.  I'll write a bit more about this at a later date, once I've actually clarified what it is we're up to.  I have, however, been taught how to put out a fishing net and pull it back in again, which involves wearing a harness and leaning out over the back end of the ship (for nautical people that would be the stern) - all very exciting if we were fishing for big fish, seals or penguins, but I have yet to be convinced of the cuteness of krill.  Maybe if I spend more time with the scientists I will see the light.  Or maybe I will just have to accept that they're not cute at all, but merely useful from a food-chain point of view.  Other things I have learnt this week are that you should never put your finger on the sensor of your expensive(ish) camera to remove the annoying spot that keeps appearing in the top left corner of all pictures.  Probably best not to dwell on that learning point to much though, as I suspect that is the kind of thing I should probably have known without having to be told and without actually putting a greasy fingerprint right in the middle of the sensor.  Also, and far more excitingly, it turns out and that the ship does actually lift up and smash down onto the ice to break it up (something to do with having a specially shaped hull apparently).  Admittedly I did kind of see it being raised high out of the water by downward pointing thrusters before dropping down and cracking the ice in a most dramatic fashion, but it's good to know I wasn't totally making stuff up in my head. 

In penguin-based news, one of the best things I've seen recently (and possibly ever) was an Adelie (not this one) skidding over a small piece of ice before falling off the other side of it feet first into the sea in an extremely slapstick comedy fashion.  I guess having a massive red ship closing down on you is a little unnerving if you happen to be a small penguin chilling out on floating ice. 

The departure from Signy was followed by one of the most fantastic evenings we have had all trip, with the sun turning the ice a stunning range of colours as it set.  Unfortunately, since I had a greasy fingerprint on my nice camera at the time, I had to rely on an old compact for pictures.  It is testament to just how beautiful it was that they still look rather nice.  Luckily, having now been on the ship for quite some time, I have discovered vents on the Monkey Island that pump out hot air from the engine room.  This made it possible to hang out for a couple of hours to watch the complete spectacle, including the moon coming up, despite wearing fairly inappropriate clothing for the conditions.  I have since learnt to embrace the padded orange boiler suit I was issued by BAS, but will most certainly not be sharing any pictures of me wearing it with anyone!  To say it is unflattering is a gross understatement, and I have not been trapped on a ship away from civilisation for sufficiently long enough to have stopped caring about that type of thing entirely!  The fact that there are sausages and mustard mash on the lunch menu and baked ham followed by nougat glace with caramelised apricots on the evening menu will doubtless not be helpful when it comes to the future flatteringness of the suit.  Unsurprisingly I am still struggling with self restraint, both with respect to the daily menu and jaffa cakes.