Fluffy Kittens and Embroidery: A life at sea

Once the work at Bird Island and Signy had been completed the science work could start in earnest. The work being done by this group mainly involved floating around in open water fishing for krill and other small creatures, but occasionally we did have to go near land. Rather fortuitously the calibration of some of the kit we carry (an echo sounder I think) always takes place in Stromness Bay, which is a spectacularly beautiful place place to visit. Despite their rather gruesome past, the whaling stations are impressive places and, even when seen from a distance, the scale of the operation is all too apparent. After that we had a short unscheduled trip back to KEP to drop off Hugh who had finished stamping the 12500 British Antarctic Territory First Day Covers in record time and was keen to get back to South Georgia to stamp things there and (I suspect far more importantly) to go running. Ella came aboard for tea which was unexpected and wonderful, and I got to wave goodbye to KEP for probably the last time.

Leith whaling station

Stromness whaling station

Stromness whaling station in a state of ongoing decay

Almost certainly my last sighting of KEP

So, what do you do when stuck on a ship that's floating around in the Southern Ocean doing science work if you're not a scientist and you're not really part of the ship's crew? Quite honestly, on some days, not a whole lot! Trying to find motivation to fill the day with useful, worthwhile, challenging and interesting pursuits can be tricky when no one is actually watching what you're doing and, in all probably, you wouldn't be missed if you chose to just spend a few days in bed. However, time does pass somewhat quicker if you're doing things, and it's actually not that easy to laze around in bed while everyone around you is working. Admittedly a fair bit of my time is spent taking pictures, either of the crew and scientists (I'll probably cover this on another occasion) or wildlife when I'm feeling unusually patient. As always around these parts there have been plenty of albatrosses accompanying the ship, so I've even managed a couple of non-blurred pictures of them this time. I have, however, entirely failed to get any of my own pictures of whales, but Humpbacks have been around en masse, and one of the best things seen so far was a pod of Pilot whales playing in the waves at the bow of the ship during a particularly bumpy patch (sadly no pictures at all, so you will just have to believe me when I say it was awesome!)

Wandering albatross and Giant Petrels

Wandering albatross

Humpback whale (photo Simon Wright)

In fact, there is always stuff to be done if you're willing to do pretty much anything. So far I've put up new lifejacket signs on the back of cabin doors, checked cargo lists, checked the immersion suits and lifejackets are in reasonable working order, made more signs for the engine room, helped Hugh bundle up 12500 First Day Covers and taken daily water samples for a scientist based in Plymouth. I have absolutely no idea what the samples are for, but I have to fill a jar with sea water, empty a bit of it out, put some mercuric chloride in to kill things and then tape it up. It's not exactly an arduous task, it's once a day and takes about 10 minutes, yet I still manage to forget to do it on occasion. Or sometimes I remember just as I'm going to bed and then have a heated argument with myself about whether I should just forget about it that day or whether I should get dressed all over again and go scuttling down to the lab. I think it's fair to say I probably wouldn't make a great scientist! I have done some actual doctoring and I am keeping my fingers crossed it was the first and last time I will hear 'can the doctor please report to the duty mess immediately' piped over the ship's tanoy system. Not great for the heart rate. It was at this point I came to realise storing my bike and a large box of personal kit in the tiny surgery probably wasn't the best idea. Anyway, all's well that ends well and the patient is doing fine, my bike is now stored in my cabin and the box in a luggage locker which is probably far more appropriate.

Probably one of the hardest things about being at sea is the fact that options for exercising are just so much less inspiring than they are on land - oh how I miss the running! As probably mentioned before, the gym on here is a tiny room with no windows, a rowing machine, a cross trainer and some weights. I've tried rowing a couple of times, but can already tell I won't stick at it for long. Sunny and calm days are a rare treat as I can take my bike out onto the verandah (some might call it a rusty and peeling bit of deck that just happens to be outside my surgery door, but they would be wrong) and get a bit of fresh air. I might not actually go anywhere, but when you have the birds circling overhead and whales blowing water on the horizon it's not exactly a terrible option. The alternative are some exercise DVDs given to me by a friend. Initially I was highly dubious about them as the thought of an incredibly enthusiastic and half naked American shouting at me for an hour a day was less than appealing. However, they're actually growing on me now and I reckon they may keep me interested for a bit longer than the rowing will as at least they're varied. The only problem with this is that there is absolutely no completely quiet place on the ship in which to do the exercises, and every now and again a random person will walk in on me in one of the cargo holds doing some bizarre punching and lunging combination while trying to balance as the ship rocks, with the crazy American shouting something about sweat being good or telling me not to quit as I have to 'earn that Tap Out body.' It's a fairly embarrassing occurrence but, since exercise is basically vital for my sanity, it just has to be accepted!