Deep drifts and a rather strange sky
I woke up last week feeling rather chilly and turned over in bed to see quite a lot of snow coming in through the open window. The snow continued to fall all day and, thanks to the 50 knot winds that accompanied it, by the afternoon there were waist high drifts all round the base. Going anywhere was just unpleasant and, no matter what complicated clothing arrangement I tried, as soon as I ventured outside I could feel the icy snow making its way in and dribbling down my neck. I mostly spent the day sheltering inside the surgery playing music loudly and doing terribly useful and important doctor type things. However, to say the weather on South Georgia is unpredictable would be somewhat of an understatement, and the following day I woke to glorious sunshine, the sound of dripping and the soft thuds of melting snow falling from the roof. The snow temporarily made running outside impossible, but after a couple of days with no outside exercise I started to feel the familiar unsettled twitchiness and decided it would be best to head out to see if one of my usual routes was passable. My shoes were soaked within a couple of minutes of leaving the base but, once I made it round the cove, the hill up to Gull Lake was fairly clear. Unfortunately, as I headed down into one of the small dips at the top of the hill, the limitations of my clothing choice became apparent. The temperature had dropped enough for the snow to freeze and, as I plunged through the crispy surface into knee deep snow, it felt much like I was being attacked by hundreds of tiny razor blades. Momentum and stubbornness carried me forward for a few metres but I quickly surrendered and returned to the snowless track to inspect my shins, which were now covered in scratches and tiny dots of blood – full length trousers would probably have been a more suitable choice. Since then I have just settled for doing laps on the hill, but the fact that one of the guys on base made it round the whole lake the day after I declared it ‘totally impossible’ has left me feeling more than a little pathetic.
Looking down over King Edward Cove and Gull Lake just before the snow came
As well as attempting to control all things food-related on base, one of my other jobs is to help out with the Post Office. I’ve been having lessons from Hugh (the proper postmaster) to ensure that I have some idea of what’s involved but, to be totally honest, the only thing I could really focus on was the fact I get to stamp things. Lots and lots of things. In my role of ‘assistant postmistress’ I have so far got to go on two of the more luxurious cruise ships to help run the onboard post office and have now taken over the running of both the KEP and Grytviken post offices for winter as Hugh has just returned to the UK. Other than managing to overcharge everyone on the cruise ships for postcards due to a little confusion between the cost of the cards themselves versus the stamps needed for them, it has all been going well. Luxury cruise ships are dangerous places though and I left The Fram in possession of a ridiculously expensive Norwegian jumper. Ever since watching ‘The Killing’ I have had the feeling that my life would not be complete until I had gained possession of a proper woolly jumper and, since the options for purchasing a jumper of any kind are more than a little limited down here, it seemed best to just bite the bullet and ignore the terrifying cost. I have pretty much worn it every day since and it does make me extremely happy when I put it on so it’s probably a worthwhile investment.
Too many pictures of penguins yet?
The boating obligations have decreased slightly in the last couple of weeks now the scientists and shooters have left the island, but I have still made it out for a bit of training. The shouts of “reverse, reverse, REVERSE” accompanied one of my finer moments as I brought the jetboat alongside in what can only be described as the most perfectest of perfect handbrake turns (or at least the jetboat equivalent of this). Yes, I was going way to fast and yes, I had been totally distracted by some pesky kelp near the jetty and yes, I did come extremely close to totalling a VERY, VERY expensive bit of kit and no, this was in no way how I had planned to come alongside. However, if all that is ignored, it was magnificent! The look on Ella’s face and the fact that, for the first time ever in our long and illustrious boating relationship she almost raised her voice, means it probably won’t be something I’ll be doing again. I do, after all, actually rather like being allowed to drive the boats. Admittedly there have been a couple of other slight blips along the way since which I won’t go into for fear of sounding like a total imbecile, but generally it does appear to be getting a bit easier and occasionally I even have some semblance of control over which direction the boat is going in.
Boating around (but definitely NOT through) some rather exciting icebergs
On the other hand my cooking has recently taken a nosedive and I have now served my first (almost certainly of many) meal of pasta and sauce. Prior to this, however, I did fulfil a lifelong goal and made pie! It turned into another epic day in the kitchen as I discovered it’s terribly tricky to know how much shortcrust pastry will be required to cover both the top and bottom of a very large pie dish. Many batches were mixed and I can now see why all the recipes I found were for pie with pastry covering the top only. Unfortunately, since I am of the strong opinion that a high pastry to filling ratio is vital for good pie, there was really no option except to just keep mixing. As it turns out, there is an adapter for the mixer that makes the whole process much, much quicker, and if I am ever to make pie again this will definitely need to be located. On the plus side, the pastry: filling ratio was acceptable and the pie was surprisingly edible.
BBQ to say goodbye to the Museum Assistants who have now headed back to the UK
Finally the Shackleton came in for last call which meant cranes, hard hats and a lot of work for the JCB drivers. Essentially I had little to do with the whole thing so I decided my time was best spent having a lovely lunch on the ship with lots of fresh fruit and vegetables - I nearly cried when I saw the grapes. Last call means all our carefully separated waste has now been taken away, we have received the emergency toilet roll delivery (sighs of relief all round) and, in theory at least, we have seen the last of the BAS ships before first call in November(ish). In reality there are rumours that the JCR will be popping by for a visit in April and, as we will continue to have fishing vessels coming in over winter, last call is a much less significant event here than it is at Rothera and Halley, where it really is the last that will be seen of the outside world for several months.
Everyone else hard at work
The Shackleton parked up in the evening sun at KEP
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