Sorry for the delays in updating the blog. Incredibly busy and little free time are barely sufficient to describe the workload down here lately. The following post was actually typed up October 13th and I'm just now getting to putting it up. Much has happened since then, but I'll save that for a day when I have time again.
The C-17 just took off and left with a piece of me on it.
The last of our winterovers have departed. I was saddened to see them go.
With hugs, handshakes, and waves I watched them get on the airporter for a ride to freedom and a land with humidity, relative warmth, and smells. It’s been a long fourteen months for most of them, and I’m sure they’ll be happy wherever they end up so long as it’s warm.
Bidding my farewells to them, I managed to avoid using the “G” word. For people who drift as much as the nomadic Ice people, it’s almost a certainty that our paths will cross again someday.
I seriously hope they do.
For those in the Pacific Northwest, I don’t foresee any problems with this. For those from different directions, we may just meet a little further down the road.
The Maineiac suggested having me tag along on a future driving trip across Africa. She figures I’d come in handy when the Land Rover breaks down. I’m going to try and hold her to it. I think driving through a war-torn country or two could be interesting.
131 days to go.
The Maineiac also left me with one last piece of advice before she got on the airporter.
She told me to appreciate this place.
It has been tough doing that lately. I’ve become a little jaded as to how things work (or more often how they don’t) down here. I’ve been working a lot of extra hours, working a side job, and volunteering for other activities. I’ve started to forget why I really came down here, and hopefully this jars it back into perspective for me. I see some of the most incredible things in the world, but it gets hard to see that when you’re staring at a computer screen looking at a list of broken trucks.
This is a beautiful place. Stunning, in fact, provided you actually take a moment to look at it.
We’re still in the season of the perpetual sunrise/sunset. The sun sits low enough in the sky that as it circles around town you can see the sky burn with brilliant color. On a clear day, it’s enough for people to stop what they’re doing for a minute and just stare. It’s still amazing.
There’s a popular saying down here: “The first season you come for the experience, the second you come for the money, and after that you come back just because you don’t fit in anywhere else anymore.”
For the most part, this saying is fairly true. Now I’m remembering it’s not all about the money this time. It’s still about the experience and the people.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Boomerang
It’s been a while since I’ve updated this last. To you dedicated readers out there who love to keep up with my Antarctic antics, I’ll be trying to do better.
In my defense, however, I have not had a full day off in about three weeks. Time has been flying here and we’ve been staying exceptionally busy due to short staffing, flights, and continuing repairs on apparatus. I’ve been spending many of my off days working on broken trucks so far this season, leaving me with little time to write.
How am I writing now, you ask? It’s actually a very simple answer. I’m sitting in Red 1, one of our giant articulated and tracked Chieftains waiting for an Airbus to land with the second official flight of Mainbody.
It looks like I still have another hour to kill before the Airbus actually arrives, so I’ll do my best to fill you in on the happenings down here.
Firstly, I have taken a part time job and entered into the proud ranks of Antarctic Mixologists. I worked my first shift as a bartender at Gallagher’s Pub the other night managing not only to mix drinks, but also to have a zero balance on the till at the end of the night. Considering my historically horrendous math skills, I was pretty happy about this. I’m looking forward to work my first mainbody shift in a couple of weeks. It should be busy and profitable.
One of the other activities that I’ve stumbled into is becoming a Nodwell driver for the Recreation Department. This means that I get to go on a lot of trips to a lot of places that I wouldn’t normally see since I’m one of two Nodwell operators on station so far this season.
In case you were wondering, a Nodwell is another product of Canadian Foremost and is similar to the Chieftains in many respects. It is a smaller vehicle and is not articulated. The easiest description of a Nodwell is nothing more than a tank with just a cab on the front of it. The Nodwell being used by Rec actually used to be one of our crash trucks. We officially retired it at the end of last season expecting it to be shipped off continent when the M/V American Tern departed. Rec, seeing an opportunity, quickly snagged it before it was loaded on. Shortly thereafter, a large passenger box was mounted on the back of it. Now, it is unofficially known as RecNod 3.
It’s actually a lot of fun to drive and does not handle badly at all. It took a bit to get used to driving with two sticks instead of a wheel, but now I can do it with ease. I’m looking forward to many excursions this season. I’ll see if I can’t get some pictures of it up shortly.
Mainbody is officially here. They touched down two days ago now. It was fun to see some old friends again, but also very unnerving seeing all these people invading our tight, close knit community. I’ve had a great time at winfly, meeting lots of new people from many departments. This is a marked improvement over last season where I barely knew anyone outside of the firehouse. I’m hoping to keep this pace up, but we’ll see. We’re supposed to be seriously over capacity this season with people, so we’ll see how this works out. I suspect I’ll be wishing that mainbody had never come shortly.
The weather here has been exceptionally nice lately. We had a con 2 storm blow through right before the first flight of mainbody hit and it brought a lot of warm air with it. We’ve been used to sitting around in -20F to -30F temperatures lately, but the storm brought some +10F air with it which felt absolutely balmy. Aside from the fact that you were getting blasted with blowing snow, it was actually nice enough to be outside with just a sweatshirt.
If the above statement makes you think I’m a little crazy, you’re partly right. First of all, nobody that’s completely sane comes here; especially for a second time. Secondly, the ability of the human body to adapt to extreme conditions is remarkable. My body essentially turns into a human space heater. While that does keep you warm while properly dressed, it doesn’t make you invincible.
Case in point, we were out pump testing the Chieftains the other day (with success) and I managed to acquire some frost nip on my toes. Luckily, I caught it early enough to prevent frostbite, but it wasn’t much fun. I think it was only about -20F that day and we weren’t even outside that long.
Wow. The weather just turned. Less than ten minutes ago I had a decent view of the Royal Society Range in the distance, now they’ve completely vanished and Ice Town (about 150 yards away) is starting to look fuzzy out the windshield. They’re trying to make the decision whether or not to land the plane right now.
The Airbus is about to hit its point of safe return, so this is the definitive moment of the flight. If the pilot decides the visibility isn’t good enough, they’ll boomerang and take their passengers all the way back to Cheech for another night. That makes for a long, ten hour flight day for the passengers…
They’ve boomeraged. Time to go home now. Cheers to you all, and hopefully I’ll get another update posted shortly.
Signing off from Red 1…
In my defense, however, I have not had a full day off in about three weeks. Time has been flying here and we’ve been staying exceptionally busy due to short staffing, flights, and continuing repairs on apparatus. I’ve been spending many of my off days working on broken trucks so far this season, leaving me with little time to write.
How am I writing now, you ask? It’s actually a very simple answer. I’m sitting in Red 1, one of our giant articulated and tracked Chieftains waiting for an Airbus to land with the second official flight of Mainbody.
It looks like I still have another hour to kill before the Airbus actually arrives, so I’ll do my best to fill you in on the happenings down here.
Firstly, I have taken a part time job and entered into the proud ranks of Antarctic Mixologists. I worked my first shift as a bartender at Gallagher’s Pub the other night managing not only to mix drinks, but also to have a zero balance on the till at the end of the night. Considering my historically horrendous math skills, I was pretty happy about this. I’m looking forward to work my first mainbody shift in a couple of weeks. It should be busy and profitable.
One of the other activities that I’ve stumbled into is becoming a Nodwell driver for the Recreation Department. This means that I get to go on a lot of trips to a lot of places that I wouldn’t normally see since I’m one of two Nodwell operators on station so far this season.
In case you were wondering, a Nodwell is another product of Canadian Foremost and is similar to the Chieftains in many respects. It is a smaller vehicle and is not articulated. The easiest description of a Nodwell is nothing more than a tank with just a cab on the front of it. The Nodwell being used by Rec actually used to be one of our crash trucks. We officially retired it at the end of last season expecting it to be shipped off continent when the M/V American Tern departed. Rec, seeing an opportunity, quickly snagged it before it was loaded on. Shortly thereafter, a large passenger box was mounted on the back of it. Now, it is unofficially known as RecNod 3.
It’s actually a lot of fun to drive and does not handle badly at all. It took a bit to get used to driving with two sticks instead of a wheel, but now I can do it with ease. I’m looking forward to many excursions this season. I’ll see if I can’t get some pictures of it up shortly.
Mainbody is officially here. They touched down two days ago now. It was fun to see some old friends again, but also very unnerving seeing all these people invading our tight, close knit community. I’ve had a great time at winfly, meeting lots of new people from many departments. This is a marked improvement over last season where I barely knew anyone outside of the firehouse. I’m hoping to keep this pace up, but we’ll see. We’re supposed to be seriously over capacity this season with people, so we’ll see how this works out. I suspect I’ll be wishing that mainbody had never come shortly.
The weather here has been exceptionally nice lately. We had a con 2 storm blow through right before the first flight of mainbody hit and it brought a lot of warm air with it. We’ve been used to sitting around in -20F to -30F temperatures lately, but the storm brought some +10F air with it which felt absolutely balmy. Aside from the fact that you were getting blasted with blowing snow, it was actually nice enough to be outside with just a sweatshirt.
If the above statement makes you think I’m a little crazy, you’re partly right. First of all, nobody that’s completely sane comes here; especially for a second time. Secondly, the ability of the human body to adapt to extreme conditions is remarkable. My body essentially turns into a human space heater. While that does keep you warm while properly dressed, it doesn’t make you invincible.
Case in point, we were out pump testing the Chieftains the other day (with success) and I managed to acquire some frost nip on my toes. Luckily, I caught it early enough to prevent frostbite, but it wasn’t much fun. I think it was only about -20F that day and we weren’t even outside that long.
Wow. The weather just turned. Less than ten minutes ago I had a decent view of the Royal Society Range in the distance, now they’ve completely vanished and Ice Town (about 150 yards away) is starting to look fuzzy out the windshield. They’re trying to make the decision whether or not to land the plane right now.
The Airbus is about to hit its point of safe return, so this is the definitive moment of the flight. If the pilot decides the visibility isn’t good enough, they’ll boomerang and take their passengers all the way back to Cheech for another night. That makes for a long, ten hour flight day for the passengers…
They’ve boomeraged. Time to go home now. Cheers to you all, and hopefully I’ll get another update posted shortly.
Signing off from Red 1…
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Is it Cookie Day Yet?
Frostnip, Purple K, foam parties, rugby, aborted medevacs, auroras and nacreous clouds.
It's been a busy week. Or two. Or...more? I don't really know at this point. Time is really starting to blur right now. We've been working a lot of extra hours lately for many of the above reasons.
I'll try to explain them as best I can, one by one. Savvy? Sweet as.
To begin, I'll start with the frostnip. For those of you in a warmer place than here, frostnip is an early, reversible, stage of frostbite. It is in no way fun and it will sneak up on you without realizing it.
Continuing, we happened to be out at work one blustery day. We had just completed a few inspections and the weather was starting to turn bad again, which is not an uncommon occurrence here this time of year. (Bad weather here comes up fast, like a summer thunderstorm back home, and can last for days.)
Anyway, I was driving the engine, and we needed to get fuel before returning to quarters. So, a short drive over to the gasboys later I hopped out of my nice warm cab to add fuel.
I wasn't even outside for five minutes. The diesel pumps are pretty quick, and I only put in 16 gallons. I stood there suffering with my back to the wind (face uncovered but turned away from the wind with my collar up) until the pump finally stopped. I jumped back in the cab, and the first thing I hear is my lieutenant telling me that my nose is completely white, a clear indication of frostnip. After I let loose a few less than pleasant words about myself being less than genius that day, we went back home.
I got lucky, though. Since I never got the pins and needles feeling that comes with rewarming the affected area, it wasn't full thickness. My nose will probably peel some later, but it has come back just fine.
Lesson learned, I promptly went to the ship's store and purchased a nice, warm, and windproof face mask. It's been seeing a lot of use.
How cold was it, you ask? Probably hovering somewhere around -30F with windchills in the range of -80F.
Moving on, I'll explain about the foam party and purple k experience.
As I believe I mentioned earlier, we've been having issues with some of our crash trucks. These are unique, one-off systems that are largely untested due to the hazardous materials issues that arise when we discharge agent. However, due to some issues that arose with a truck fire we had a couple of weeks ago, we've been tearing down these systems and inspecting them for issues.
Without going into complicated mechanical details, I'll just say that certain important parts have a tendency to stick in the wrong position, causing problems (and resultant foam parties). Unfortunately for us, we're learning all of this the hard way.
The first time we learned this, we were just coming back into the firehouse after doing some inspections. I was backing the engine up, and the Kiwi kept telling me to stop. After the second time, I was left wondering what the hold up was until he came up and told me that Red 4 had discharged from the turret.
Several loud, less than polite terms were then made audible from myself.
It turned out that while our new mechanic and a lieutenant were working on the system, something stuck in the wrong position. Unfortunately for us, that something caused several hundred gallons of finished foam to spew across the bays, leaving us a mess to clean up.
Two hours, six people, a few pictures, shovels and mops later, we had finally cleaned up the mess. Pleased we were not, but we were done.
Proceed 24 hours later. Then repeat this entire process when something else failed in a similar fashion. It proceeded to dump the rest of the 300 gallon foam tank onto the floor, though with some quick action, they were able to save about two 55 gallon drums of foam concentrate after a quick shutdown. Luckily for me, B shift was on, so I just had the pleasure of hearing about it at dinner.
Fast forward another 48 hours. I'm on my Kelly day (my extra day off every two weeks) and bored. So, I offer to come in to help with the mechanical demon of a truck sitting in the bay. This time we're not testing the foam system, which I was happy about, since it has had a less than spectacular track record in the previous week.
This time, we're testing the Purple K system. Purple K is a special fire extinguishing dry chemical powder often used in airport firefighting equipment. When used in conjunction with foam, it delivers a great one-two punch to fire. We use a slightly different type of Purple K that has an extremely bright and vivid purple dye added to be better able to see it in a fire situation.
Now, the Purple K system has not really had a history of issues. It's an older design that's been used for years in places around the world. Ansul has refined it into a system that we can even trust down in the frozen south. Unfortunately for us, however, we forgot that part of it runs through the other half of the system...
After a successful test of the turret operation by shooting the Purple K into a containment barrel and blowing it down (blowing down removes any leftover agent sitting in the lines) with only the normal mess, we were pleased to conclude the test a success. Thus deemed, I moved the containment barrel to the back so we could test the hand line.
Moving into position, the lieutenant I was working with flipped the switch to begin the hand line test. Upon this activation, the gurgling, whooshing, coughing sound unique to the turret was heard. Knowing doom was impending, he quickly shut the system back down. Unfortunately for us, once the system is charged, it has more than enough air flowing through to make a mess.
Looking forward to the turret, it coughed, hacked, and proceeded to puke a large, brilliant purple cloud. Within five seconds, the back half of the bay was a lovely shade of violet.
Much sweeping and mopping followed. We'll be finding more purple for weeks to come.
While we've been receiving the short end of the stick with these trucks lately, our daytime dispatcher has had the pleasure of seeing each of these events through her office window and not having to be involved with the cleanup.
I would've liked to have seen the jet of foam shooting across of the wave of purple that drifted by her window...
Rugby. This one is a short explanation. We watched the New Zealand All Blacks play the other day. They were up against the Wallabies of Australia in the final Tri-Nations game of the season. While the first half was disappointing, the stunning come from behind victory by the All Blacks was worth it. This win marked their tenth straight and they left as Tri-Nations champs (though they actually won this honor after their last match).
Auroras and nacreous clouds. I'll make this one short, too.
They are incredible.
Not much of an amazing story behind it, but I think you'll appreciate it better if I ever download my pictures.
So we have a medevac flight that's supposed to come down. It tried to come down yesterday, but failed due to rapidly deteriorating conditions out at Pegasus. I had an opportunity to read the Terminal Area Forecast for it, and it was amazing to see how fast the weather went from flyable conditions to horrible conditions. I think it was less than five minutes that made the difference.
Luckily I got to stay in town for the attempt yesterday. Red 4 decided it would be fun to puke glycol again, and made about a hundred yard mess behind itself. This is actually better than the typical half mile mess we end up with, but I still felt bad for the guys that had to go out and shovel it up. I know at least one of our guys came back with a little frostnip from it, though he'll be fine.
They tried to get the flight back in here today, but they canceled it very early on, for which I was appreciative, though I'm pretty sure the poor guy sitting in medical thinks differently.
We're trying again tomorrow. The forecast is supposed to be a bit nicer. I won't get to enjoy driving out to Pegasus and back, though. I'll be at sea ice training most of the day, a welcome escape of a two hour commute in a lumbering Chieftain.
That's about all I have for right now. I guess I'll fill you all in on my sea ice adventures later if I don't freeze to death first. In the mean time, I think I'll start putting together some ideas for my post-Ice travels.
It's been a busy week. Or two. Or...more? I don't really know at this point. Time is really starting to blur right now. We've been working a lot of extra hours lately for many of the above reasons.
I'll try to explain them as best I can, one by one. Savvy? Sweet as.
To begin, I'll start with the frostnip. For those of you in a warmer place than here, frostnip is an early, reversible, stage of frostbite. It is in no way fun and it will sneak up on you without realizing it.
Continuing, we happened to be out at work one blustery day. We had just completed a few inspections and the weather was starting to turn bad again, which is not an uncommon occurrence here this time of year. (Bad weather here comes up fast, like a summer thunderstorm back home, and can last for days.)
Anyway, I was driving the engine, and we needed to get fuel before returning to quarters. So, a short drive over to the gasboys later I hopped out of my nice warm cab to add fuel.
I wasn't even outside for five minutes. The diesel pumps are pretty quick, and I only put in 16 gallons. I stood there suffering with my back to the wind (face uncovered but turned away from the wind with my collar up) until the pump finally stopped. I jumped back in the cab, and the first thing I hear is my lieutenant telling me that my nose is completely white, a clear indication of frostnip. After I let loose a few less than pleasant words about myself being less than genius that day, we went back home.
I got lucky, though. Since I never got the pins and needles feeling that comes with rewarming the affected area, it wasn't full thickness. My nose will probably peel some later, but it has come back just fine.
Lesson learned, I promptly went to the ship's store and purchased a nice, warm, and windproof face mask. It's been seeing a lot of use.
How cold was it, you ask? Probably hovering somewhere around -30F with windchills in the range of -80F.
Moving on, I'll explain about the foam party and purple k experience.
As I believe I mentioned earlier, we've been having issues with some of our crash trucks. These are unique, one-off systems that are largely untested due to the hazardous materials issues that arise when we discharge agent. However, due to some issues that arose with a truck fire we had a couple of weeks ago, we've been tearing down these systems and inspecting them for issues.
Without going into complicated mechanical details, I'll just say that certain important parts have a tendency to stick in the wrong position, causing problems (and resultant foam parties). Unfortunately for us, we're learning all of this the hard way.
The first time we learned this, we were just coming back into the firehouse after doing some inspections. I was backing the engine up, and the Kiwi kept telling me to stop. After the second time, I was left wondering what the hold up was until he came up and told me that Red 4 had discharged from the turret.
Several loud, less than polite terms were then made audible from myself.
It turned out that while our new mechanic and a lieutenant were working on the system, something stuck in the wrong position. Unfortunately for us, that something caused several hundred gallons of finished foam to spew across the bays, leaving us a mess to clean up.
Two hours, six people, a few pictures, shovels and mops later, we had finally cleaned up the mess. Pleased we were not, but we were done.
Proceed 24 hours later. Then repeat this entire process when something else failed in a similar fashion. It proceeded to dump the rest of the 300 gallon foam tank onto the floor, though with some quick action, they were able to save about two 55 gallon drums of foam concentrate after a quick shutdown. Luckily for me, B shift was on, so I just had the pleasure of hearing about it at dinner.
Fast forward another 48 hours. I'm on my Kelly day (my extra day off every two weeks) and bored. So, I offer to come in to help with the mechanical demon of a truck sitting in the bay. This time we're not testing the foam system, which I was happy about, since it has had a less than spectacular track record in the previous week.
This time, we're testing the Purple K system. Purple K is a special fire extinguishing dry chemical powder often used in airport firefighting equipment. When used in conjunction with foam, it delivers a great one-two punch to fire. We use a slightly different type of Purple K that has an extremely bright and vivid purple dye added to be better able to see it in a fire situation.
Now, the Purple K system has not really had a history of issues. It's an older design that's been used for years in places around the world. Ansul has refined it into a system that we can even trust down in the frozen south. Unfortunately for us, however, we forgot that part of it runs through the other half of the system...
After a successful test of the turret operation by shooting the Purple K into a containment barrel and blowing it down (blowing down removes any leftover agent sitting in the lines) with only the normal mess, we were pleased to conclude the test a success. Thus deemed, I moved the containment barrel to the back so we could test the hand line.
Moving into position, the lieutenant I was working with flipped the switch to begin the hand line test. Upon this activation, the gurgling, whooshing, coughing sound unique to the turret was heard. Knowing doom was impending, he quickly shut the system back down. Unfortunately for us, once the system is charged, it has more than enough air flowing through to make a mess.
Looking forward to the turret, it coughed, hacked, and proceeded to puke a large, brilliant purple cloud. Within five seconds, the back half of the bay was a lovely shade of violet.
Much sweeping and mopping followed. We'll be finding more purple for weeks to come.
While we've been receiving the short end of the stick with these trucks lately, our daytime dispatcher has had the pleasure of seeing each of these events through her office window and not having to be involved with the cleanup.
I would've liked to have seen the jet of foam shooting across of the wave of purple that drifted by her window...
Rugby. This one is a short explanation. We watched the New Zealand All Blacks play the other day. They were up against the Wallabies of Australia in the final Tri-Nations game of the season. While the first half was disappointing, the stunning come from behind victory by the All Blacks was worth it. This win marked their tenth straight and they left as Tri-Nations champs (though they actually won this honor after their last match).
Auroras and nacreous clouds. I'll make this one short, too.
They are incredible.
Not much of an amazing story behind it, but I think you'll appreciate it better if I ever download my pictures.
So we have a medevac flight that's supposed to come down. It tried to come down yesterday, but failed due to rapidly deteriorating conditions out at Pegasus. I had an opportunity to read the Terminal Area Forecast for it, and it was amazing to see how fast the weather went from flyable conditions to horrible conditions. I think it was less than five minutes that made the difference.
Luckily I got to stay in town for the attempt yesterday. Red 4 decided it would be fun to puke glycol again, and made about a hundred yard mess behind itself. This is actually better than the typical half mile mess we end up with, but I still felt bad for the guys that had to go out and shovel it up. I know at least one of our guys came back with a little frostnip from it, though he'll be fine.
They tried to get the flight back in here today, but they canceled it very early on, for which I was appreciative, though I'm pretty sure the poor guy sitting in medical thinks differently.
We're trying again tomorrow. The forecast is supposed to be a bit nicer. I won't get to enjoy driving out to Pegasus and back, though. I'll be at sea ice training most of the day, a welcome escape of a two hour commute in a lumbering Chieftain.
That's about all I have for right now. I guess I'll fill you all in on my sea ice adventures later if I don't freeze to death first. In the mean time, I think I'll start putting together some ideas for my post-Ice travels.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Overnight Dispatch
Don't get used to all these frequent updates, I'm sure I'll be slowing down soon.
The real reason you're getting this one at all is the fact that I'm covering the overnight dispatch this morning and need to do something that will keep me awake.
It's quiet in here. For starters, it's a Saturday night, but it's also a lovely con two night. With this combination, it's making for a very boring evening.
Also, we had some news that hit pretty close to home for those of us in Mactown. Christchurch, New Zealand was hit by a 7.1 earthquake yesterday morning. Luckily, there are no reported deaths and only two people with serious injuries. We were all grateful to hear that as many of us consider Cheech to be another one of our "homes".
Most of the city was without power and much of it had no water as of last night. I happened to know a couple of people who worked here and were vacationing in Cheech before heading off to other destinations. They're all fine, but I'm sure they'll have a story to tell when I get ahold of them.
For the most part, the city fared well, though some structures did come tumbling down. We watched video of storefronts burning in Cathedral Square near where we usually stay. We're still waiting to hear if Bailie's survived. We're hopeful.
The real reason you're getting this one at all is the fact that I'm covering the overnight dispatch this morning and need to do something that will keep me awake.
It's quiet in here. For starters, it's a Saturday night, but it's also a lovely con two night. With this combination, it's making for a very boring evening.
Also, we had some news that hit pretty close to home for those of us in Mactown. Christchurch, New Zealand was hit by a 7.1 earthquake yesterday morning. Luckily, there are no reported deaths and only two people with serious injuries. We were all grateful to hear that as many of us consider Cheech to be another one of our "homes".
Most of the city was without power and much of it had no water as of last night. I happened to know a couple of people who worked here and were vacationing in Cheech before heading off to other destinations. They're all fine, but I'm sure they'll have a story to tell when I get ahold of them.
For the most part, the city fared well, though some structures did come tumbling down. We watched video of storefronts burning in Cathedral Square near where we usually stay. We're still waiting to hear if Bailie's survived. We're hopeful.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Planeless
There are no more planes. None at all. Nothing scheduled until September 23rd.
It's wonderful.
Sure, we don't have any mail or freshies or neat toys that come down as cargo, but we get to sleep. Our off days are actually off days again. No more having to come in to sit at Pegasus waiting for a plane to drop off more beakers and slowly go crazy from boredom.
Also, the break gives us some time to put our fire trucks back into some state of functional usage. This winfly has been hard on them. We've had issues with four out of six crash trucks. Red 1 got plugged into a three phase outlet when it's built for two phase (toasted the heater package in the back), Red 2 doesn't have a working generator (which prevents us from keeping the package warm when on the move), Red 3 decided it didn't like having a transmission anymore, Red 4 thought it would be fun to not discharge foam when needed (more on this later), and Red 6 doesn't like keeping glycol in it's engine.
Also, one of the perks of not having flights means I don't have to unexpectedly take Red 2 out to Pegasus in the middle of the night when another truck blows its transmission.
Red 2 is a long, slow ride no matter how you look at it. Even with me racing out there last minute with an hour before the flight is due, I still didn't make it in time. I tried, at least, at all four miles per hour.
Driving the ice roads at night is pretty cool, though. There isn't much to see to start with, but at night there's even less. Aside from the tracks from other vehicles and the marker flags, there isn't anything else to look at. At one point, since I was the only one on the road, I turned off all of my lights for a moment to see what it would look like. I was a little surprised to see that when I turned the lights off, a green glow covered everything. I thought it was my eyes playing tricks on me, but in reality, it was the Aurora Australis. While I didn't get to enjoy them then, I did get to see them later in the evening, though less intense than before.
No more looking at C-17s through the fog emanating from a score of tailpipes. As cool as that is, it's still cold and boring. I did get some cool pictures, though. Just wait until I get them downloaded.
Oh, so we had a fire the other day. B shift had the pleasure of enjoying it this time. The fuelie's Ford stakebody truck caught fire out on the sea ice the other day, just shy of town. It's suspected that they burned up the transmission and just kept going until it caught fire, though this is officially unconfirmed.
B shift went out with Red 4 to go put it out. They made it out there without it being completely on fire, so they were off to a good start. The bad news came, however, when they went to charge the system and the foam refused to discharge. While the purple k dry chemical discharged just fine, it is not typically enough by itself to fully extinguish a fire.
The fire was however finally controlled when shovels were put into action and snow was discharged on the remnants of the fire. It's a harsh continent. Creative solutions work.
Unfortunately, this only went to further reinforce the poor image of our current Renegade fleet. It's a one of a kind system that's had more than it's share of teething problems. We thought we had all of the big bugs worked out of it last season, but it looks like we have more work to do.
Drifting onto another topic now, I would like to touch on nacreous clouds. They are an incredible and rare sight in the world. Only a few places down here in Antarctica really only get them. They resemble something of a beautiful, oily smear on the sky and show with every color imaginable. I have a few pictures of the sky looking like it's on fire. It's incredible. Words don't really do it justice in the least. I suggest all of you come down here and investigate it for yourself.
As for the winfly town life, it has been good. The town population is large for a winfly, with it pushing 600 people. A normal winfly would only add about another hundred people or so. We're running at more than double the normal population and that's created its own set of problems.
The housing situation has been interesting. Due to a last minute change by the NSF, 203 turned into a beaker only dorm. This forced the opening of other dorms that tend not to fare as well in the colder months as the others.
I happen to be in one of these chilly dorms. 211 is a great dorm for the most part, but parts of it are not that well insulated. We've had problems with our toilets freezing up and ice forming the bottoms of all the showers. My room gets a little chilly sometimes, too, though it's not bad when you consider it's often -30F outside.
If you're wondering about the weather, it's chilly. If the wind is blowing, it's miserable. We had wind chills exceeding -74F the other day. I'm glad that's fairly infrequent this time of year. South Pole has been hitting new records lately. Just prior to our arrival, they reached a new record low of -104F. Glad I'm not there right now.
If you think that's cold, I hate to disappoint you, but Vostock Station gets even colder...
As for here and now, we're probably around -25F with zero wind. Definitely sweatshirt weather today. I'm going to live it up.
That's all for now. Time for a safety nap.
It's wonderful.
Sure, we don't have any mail or freshies or neat toys that come down as cargo, but we get to sleep. Our off days are actually off days again. No more having to come in to sit at Pegasus waiting for a plane to drop off more beakers and slowly go crazy from boredom.
Also, the break gives us some time to put our fire trucks back into some state of functional usage. This winfly has been hard on them. We've had issues with four out of six crash trucks. Red 1 got plugged into a three phase outlet when it's built for two phase (toasted the heater package in the back), Red 2 doesn't have a working generator (which prevents us from keeping the package warm when on the move), Red 3 decided it didn't like having a transmission anymore, Red 4 thought it would be fun to not discharge foam when needed (more on this later), and Red 6 doesn't like keeping glycol in it's engine.
Also, one of the perks of not having flights means I don't have to unexpectedly take Red 2 out to Pegasus in the middle of the night when another truck blows its transmission.
Red 2 is a long, slow ride no matter how you look at it. Even with me racing out there last minute with an hour before the flight is due, I still didn't make it in time. I tried, at least, at all four miles per hour.
Driving the ice roads at night is pretty cool, though. There isn't much to see to start with, but at night there's even less. Aside from the tracks from other vehicles and the marker flags, there isn't anything else to look at. At one point, since I was the only one on the road, I turned off all of my lights for a moment to see what it would look like. I was a little surprised to see that when I turned the lights off, a green glow covered everything. I thought it was my eyes playing tricks on me, but in reality, it was the Aurora Australis. While I didn't get to enjoy them then, I did get to see them later in the evening, though less intense than before.
No more looking at C-17s through the fog emanating from a score of tailpipes. As cool as that is, it's still cold and boring. I did get some cool pictures, though. Just wait until I get them downloaded.
Oh, so we had a fire the other day. B shift had the pleasure of enjoying it this time. The fuelie's Ford stakebody truck caught fire out on the sea ice the other day, just shy of town. It's suspected that they burned up the transmission and just kept going until it caught fire, though this is officially unconfirmed.
B shift went out with Red 4 to go put it out. They made it out there without it being completely on fire, so they were off to a good start. The bad news came, however, when they went to charge the system and the foam refused to discharge. While the purple k dry chemical discharged just fine, it is not typically enough by itself to fully extinguish a fire.
The fire was however finally controlled when shovels were put into action and snow was discharged on the remnants of the fire. It's a harsh continent. Creative solutions work.
Unfortunately, this only went to further reinforce the poor image of our current Renegade fleet. It's a one of a kind system that's had more than it's share of teething problems. We thought we had all of the big bugs worked out of it last season, but it looks like we have more work to do.
Drifting onto another topic now, I would like to touch on nacreous clouds. They are an incredible and rare sight in the world. Only a few places down here in Antarctica really only get them. They resemble something of a beautiful, oily smear on the sky and show with every color imaginable. I have a few pictures of the sky looking like it's on fire. It's incredible. Words don't really do it justice in the least. I suggest all of you come down here and investigate it for yourself.
As for the winfly town life, it has been good. The town population is large for a winfly, with it pushing 600 people. A normal winfly would only add about another hundred people or so. We're running at more than double the normal population and that's created its own set of problems.
The housing situation has been interesting. Due to a last minute change by the NSF, 203 turned into a beaker only dorm. This forced the opening of other dorms that tend not to fare as well in the colder months as the others.
I happen to be in one of these chilly dorms. 211 is a great dorm for the most part, but parts of it are not that well insulated. We've had problems with our toilets freezing up and ice forming the bottoms of all the showers. My room gets a little chilly sometimes, too, though it's not bad when you consider it's often -30F outside.
If you're wondering about the weather, it's chilly. If the wind is blowing, it's miserable. We had wind chills exceeding -74F the other day. I'm glad that's fairly infrequent this time of year. South Pole has been hitting new records lately. Just prior to our arrival, they reached a new record low of -104F. Glad I'm not there right now.
If you think that's cold, I hate to disappoint you, but Vostock Station gets even colder...
As for here and now, we're probably around -25F with zero wind. Definitely sweatshirt weather today. I'm going to live it up.
That's all for now. Time for a safety nap.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Condition One
The weather outside is frightful, which is making life for us as on duty firefighters delightful.
We've been having a pretty decent storm blow through today. Town is officially at condition two due to a lack of visibility, though it has been easily been dropping down to condition one (really bad) levels. At times, it's been getting hard to see the building next to us about thirty feet away. This is a little unusual for Mactown, as we tend to be fairly well protected by Ob hill from the blowing and drifting.
As a result of this less than superb weather, we've been staying in today. Aside from a few house chores, we're all just taking it easy. This has allowed me to come up with some time to actually post something.
Most of you may have thought I had abandoned you, but you'd be mistaken. A recent lack of technology and a serious lack of free time has delayed me in keeping you up to date with my Antarctic antics, but I shall hopefully make amends for that now.
After finally leaving Denver for orientation and training, we wandered our way down to New Zealand again. A short hop to Los Angeles, a 13.5 hour flight to Auckland, and another hour flight to Christchurch later, I was reunited with my old haunts in Cheech. Instead of staying in the Hotel So this time around, I went next door and enjoyed the significantly bigger rooms in the four star Grand Chancellor.
After settling in, the first order of business was to take a nap (which was readily achieved after my travels) and then to get a pint of Kilkenny over at the officially unofficial Ice bar Bailies.
My primary objectives for Christchurch accomplished, we proceeded to get on with work.
They did something a little different for us this year in Cheech. Normally we have a couple of days of training once we hit the Ice, but they tried to get it in to us before we left, so I had the honor of spending the morning over at the Clothing Distribution Center learning how to operate a forklift and finding a big red that fit.
Exciting, right?
Anyways, that completed, I spent a relatively quiet evening in Cheech hanging out and catching up with people.
We were supposed to fly the next morning, but due to a mechanical issue, our flight was canceled. We had already bag dragged, gotten in our ECW gear, and just about to go through the metal detectors when we saw our boomerang bags coming back on the pallet. A cheer erupted with the announcement of cancellation.
Getting canceled was not as much fun as it was last time. They had us strung along all day with two hour delays which meant that we couldn't wander too far from Cheech. Also, since we were making a later flight, it also meant that we didn't have hotel rooms anymore. All of this led to a lot of grumpy Americans sitting around in hotel lobbies.
After finally getting canceled, we received our new hotel accommodations. I was bumped over to the five star Crown Plaza. Life is tough sometimes.
Another night in Cheech later, we finally left.
Flying on a C-17 is still one of my favorite methods of travel. It's loud, cold, and spacious. I can deal with the first two quite easily and relish the third item.
Five hours later, we became the first flight to touch down on the Ice since March. As an item of note, we were also the first ever passenger flight to ever make a night vision goggle landing in Antarctica. The crews that were working stated that it was the eeriest thing seeing only pitch black and hearing the plane whoosh by and land.
Moving forward a bit, we went through another briefing and received our room assignments. Out of some strange, twisted bit of bureaucratic luck, I ended up in building 211. 211 is typically reserved for people with two or three years on the Ice, so I'm presently enjoying a large room that doesn't stay warm. Not bad as long as I remember to not use the shower on the end that forms ice in the bottom of the stall.
I also managed to end up with another firefighter as a roommate who is on the opposite shift. I basically have my own room again. Good deal.
Getting back on shift hasn't been that difficult. The crews over the winter have been small, and we're only making up for some of the losses due to the winter overs leaving. Hopefully this means we can skip out on having to go to day work and do "training" and just complete it during normal shifts.
We have been working a lot, though. Due to the Winfly flights, most of our off days are spent doing standbys at Pegasus airfield for about six hours. It really wears on you after about a week. With our current weather, though, we're getting a much appreciated break.
As a last note about the firehouse, is there anyone out there that wants to be chief? Ours is resigning and moving onto another job somewhere. While this leaves us a bit rudderless, I'm sure we'll keep to the fine Antarctic tradition of illogic and chaos.
That's it for now. Apologies to you all if it's a little rough as I'm just not motivated enough to proofread it. Maybe I'll get around to cleaning it up later.
Cheers,
Sunny Southern Guy
Addendum:
It's getting nasty out. I've almost been blown over more than a few times. The wind has literally sent me sliding on my heels across the ice. Opening doors is hazardous. They'll come swinging back at you and hard.
The Maineiac and myself had the honor of putting up the guide ropes. The guide ropes are placed up between buildings right before conditions officially go con one. It is not really a fun task stumbling through a blinding icy sandblaster to string ropes between buildings. The results consist of looking like a snow cone and having a dripping wet face from the snow melting on it.
We've also run two calls so far today. That's fairly impressive for us since we tend to average none.
The first was for an odor of smoke that turned out to have wafted away by the time we got there. Driving back was interesting since we literally couldn't see anything and the driver worked from memory to get around.
The second call of the evening was for a halon alarm over at VMF. I don't like halon. At all. Allow me to repeat this; I do not like halon.
Now that I'm clear on that subject, I'll explain. Halon is a wonderful though slightly antiquated fire suppressing agent. It works by being inert and displacing oxygen. It's also invisible and odorless, so it's a great candidate for knocking out firefighters.
So, after wandering around VMF and checking all four systems while on air, we finally figured out that it was a panel malfunction from the snow getting into it.
Picking up, I came back to the engine and tried to get in. A slight complication arose, however. The door had frozen shut. Funny how that works in Antarctica. So, I climbed into the other bucket with Kiwi Chris. It was a little tight in there, but it worked. Another blind ride back, we thawed out the wagon and got back to sitting.
Now to see if the bells keep ringing tonight. The heat detectors here are notorious for tripping in bad weather, so I may not sleep too much this night.
We've been having a pretty decent storm blow through today. Town is officially at condition two due to a lack of visibility, though it has been easily been dropping down to condition one (really bad) levels. At times, it's been getting hard to see the building next to us about thirty feet away. This is a little unusual for Mactown, as we tend to be fairly well protected by Ob hill from the blowing and drifting.
As a result of this less than superb weather, we've been staying in today. Aside from a few house chores, we're all just taking it easy. This has allowed me to come up with some time to actually post something.
Most of you may have thought I had abandoned you, but you'd be mistaken. A recent lack of technology and a serious lack of free time has delayed me in keeping you up to date with my Antarctic antics, but I shall hopefully make amends for that now.
After finally leaving Denver for orientation and training, we wandered our way down to New Zealand again. A short hop to Los Angeles, a 13.5 hour flight to Auckland, and another hour flight to Christchurch later, I was reunited with my old haunts in Cheech. Instead of staying in the Hotel So this time around, I went next door and enjoyed the significantly bigger rooms in the four star Grand Chancellor.
After settling in, the first order of business was to take a nap (which was readily achieved after my travels) and then to get a pint of Kilkenny over at the officially unofficial Ice bar Bailies.
My primary objectives for Christchurch accomplished, we proceeded to get on with work.
They did something a little different for us this year in Cheech. Normally we have a couple of days of training once we hit the Ice, but they tried to get it in to us before we left, so I had the honor of spending the morning over at the Clothing Distribution Center learning how to operate a forklift and finding a big red that fit.
Exciting, right?
Anyways, that completed, I spent a relatively quiet evening in Cheech hanging out and catching up with people.
We were supposed to fly the next morning, but due to a mechanical issue, our flight was canceled. We had already bag dragged, gotten in our ECW gear, and just about to go through the metal detectors when we saw our boomerang bags coming back on the pallet. A cheer erupted with the announcement of cancellation.
Getting canceled was not as much fun as it was last time. They had us strung along all day with two hour delays which meant that we couldn't wander too far from Cheech. Also, since we were making a later flight, it also meant that we didn't have hotel rooms anymore. All of this led to a lot of grumpy Americans sitting around in hotel lobbies.
After finally getting canceled, we received our new hotel accommodations. I was bumped over to the five star Crown Plaza. Life is tough sometimes.
Another night in Cheech later, we finally left.
Flying on a C-17 is still one of my favorite methods of travel. It's loud, cold, and spacious. I can deal with the first two quite easily and relish the third item.
Five hours later, we became the first flight to touch down on the Ice since March. As an item of note, we were also the first ever passenger flight to ever make a night vision goggle landing in Antarctica. The crews that were working stated that it was the eeriest thing seeing only pitch black and hearing the plane whoosh by and land.
Moving forward a bit, we went through another briefing and received our room assignments. Out of some strange, twisted bit of bureaucratic luck, I ended up in building 211. 211 is typically reserved for people with two or three years on the Ice, so I'm presently enjoying a large room that doesn't stay warm. Not bad as long as I remember to not use the shower on the end that forms ice in the bottom of the stall.
I also managed to end up with another firefighter as a roommate who is on the opposite shift. I basically have my own room again. Good deal.
Getting back on shift hasn't been that difficult. The crews over the winter have been small, and we're only making up for some of the losses due to the winter overs leaving. Hopefully this means we can skip out on having to go to day work and do "training" and just complete it during normal shifts.
We have been working a lot, though. Due to the Winfly flights, most of our off days are spent doing standbys at Pegasus airfield for about six hours. It really wears on you after about a week. With our current weather, though, we're getting a much appreciated break.
As a last note about the firehouse, is there anyone out there that wants to be chief? Ours is resigning and moving onto another job somewhere. While this leaves us a bit rudderless, I'm sure we'll keep to the fine Antarctic tradition of illogic and chaos.
That's it for now. Apologies to you all if it's a little rough as I'm just not motivated enough to proofread it. Maybe I'll get around to cleaning it up later.
Cheers,
Sunny Southern Guy
Addendum:
It's getting nasty out. I've almost been blown over more than a few times. The wind has literally sent me sliding on my heels across the ice. Opening doors is hazardous. They'll come swinging back at you and hard.
The Maineiac and myself had the honor of putting up the guide ropes. The guide ropes are placed up between buildings right before conditions officially go con one. It is not really a fun task stumbling through a blinding icy sandblaster to string ropes between buildings. The results consist of looking like a snow cone and having a dripping wet face from the snow melting on it.
We've also run two calls so far today. That's fairly impressive for us since we tend to average none.
The first was for an odor of smoke that turned out to have wafted away by the time we got there. Driving back was interesting since we literally couldn't see anything and the driver worked from memory to get around.
The second call of the evening was for a halon alarm over at VMF. I don't like halon. At all. Allow me to repeat this; I do not like halon.
Now that I'm clear on that subject, I'll explain. Halon is a wonderful though slightly antiquated fire suppressing agent. It works by being inert and displacing oxygen. It's also invisible and odorless, so it's a great candidate for knocking out firefighters.
So, after wandering around VMF and checking all four systems while on air, we finally figured out that it was a panel malfunction from the snow getting into it.
Picking up, I came back to the engine and tried to get in. A slight complication arose, however. The door had frozen shut. Funny how that works in Antarctica. So, I climbed into the other bucket with Kiwi Chris. It was a little tight in there, but it worked. Another blind ride back, we thawed out the wagon and got back to sitting.
Now to see if the bells keep ringing tonight. The heat detectors here are notorious for tripping in bad weather, so I may not sleep too much this night.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Back for More?
Due to popular demand, Sunny Southern Beach will publishing a new season of Antarctic exploits and antics.
The reason? I'm crazy enough to go back for more.
Just to help you fill in the gaps, I'll give a quick rundown of my life for the last few months.
After leaving the Ice, I went wandering through New Zealand for a couple of weeks. It was easily one of the best trips of my life. For anyone who thinks they'd like to visit NZ, I will gladly give you a thousand and one reasons why.
Following that, I came back stateside. After scrounging around a couple of months to find any kind of job, a friend of mine was able to get me a job selling and delivering HVAC equipment. As an amusing side note, the air conditioning in the store did not work, even though we had access to a large supply of parts and new units.
While I did have fun at that job and was learning new things, the money wasn't really there. I had been offered another contract to return to the Ice, and seeing little in the way of better options (along with a strong personal interest in returning), I decided to accept the offer and come back. I will be working again as a firefighter this year.
That pretty much brings everything up to date. I am currently sitting in my hotel room in Denver recovering from a long day at orientation (and a long night out on the town catching up with some old "A" shifters who live locally and aren't coming back)
Yesterday, we had our annual recertification burn for our Airport Rescue Firefighter training. Myself and seven other returnees ran through multiple scenarios with the aircraft crash simulator. Though we were a little bit rusty, we actually did pretty well, with only a few relatively minor things needed to improve on.
I was actually paid a fairly high compliment yesterday as well. During the first burn, I actually got to run the line. A fairly rare event for someone who has spent most of his time on a ladder truck. Anyway, one of the instructors mentioned at the end of the day that the guy running the pipe on the first burn made a very aggressive attack on the fire.
Not bad for someone who doesn't really do the hose thing that much. Also, amusingly enough, that instructor was also a truckie. I wonder if that detracts from the compliment? Anyway, I'm done tooting my own horn. For now.
If you're wondering why I seem to be leaving much earlier than last year, you're right. I'm coming down to the Ice for Winfly this year, about a full month and a half earlier than last time. I'll be on the first flight to McMurdo since early March, which will be interesting. I'm sure our sight will be a welcome relief to many of the winterovers who are starting to get a little crunchy.
Anyways, that pretty much fills you in up to right now. Tomorrow I have one more day of orientation training and then we fly out to New Zealand again. I have to get busy packing and getting ready to go again, so I'll end it here.
One last thing; it's been great hanging out with all my Ice friends again.
The reason? I'm crazy enough to go back for more.
Just to help you fill in the gaps, I'll give a quick rundown of my life for the last few months.
After leaving the Ice, I went wandering through New Zealand for a couple of weeks. It was easily one of the best trips of my life. For anyone who thinks they'd like to visit NZ, I will gladly give you a thousand and one reasons why.
Following that, I came back stateside. After scrounging around a couple of months to find any kind of job, a friend of mine was able to get me a job selling and delivering HVAC equipment. As an amusing side note, the air conditioning in the store did not work, even though we had access to a large supply of parts and new units.
While I did have fun at that job and was learning new things, the money wasn't really there. I had been offered another contract to return to the Ice, and seeing little in the way of better options (along with a strong personal interest in returning), I decided to accept the offer and come back. I will be working again as a firefighter this year.
That pretty much brings everything up to date. I am currently sitting in my hotel room in Denver recovering from a long day at orientation (and a long night out on the town catching up with some old "A" shifters who live locally and aren't coming back)
Yesterday, we had our annual recertification burn for our Airport Rescue Firefighter training. Myself and seven other returnees ran through multiple scenarios with the aircraft crash simulator. Though we were a little bit rusty, we actually did pretty well, with only a few relatively minor things needed to improve on.
I was actually paid a fairly high compliment yesterday as well. During the first burn, I actually got to run the line. A fairly rare event for someone who has spent most of his time on a ladder truck. Anyway, one of the instructors mentioned at the end of the day that the guy running the pipe on the first burn made a very aggressive attack on the fire.
Not bad for someone who doesn't really do the hose thing that much. Also, amusingly enough, that instructor was also a truckie. I wonder if that detracts from the compliment? Anyway, I'm done tooting my own horn. For now.
If you're wondering why I seem to be leaving much earlier than last year, you're right. I'm coming down to the Ice for Winfly this year, about a full month and a half earlier than last time. I'll be on the first flight to McMurdo since early March, which will be interesting. I'm sure our sight will be a welcome relief to many of the winterovers who are starting to get a little crunchy.
Anyways, that pretty much fills you in up to right now. Tomorrow I have one more day of orientation training and then we fly out to New Zealand again. I have to get busy packing and getting ready to go again, so I'll end it here.
One last thing; it's been great hanging out with all my Ice friends again.
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