It’s a harsh continent

Scott’s first expedition leaving Lyttleton NZ for Antarctica aboard the Discovery in 1901. They had delays too. (Image courtesy of the Canterbury Regional Council Collection, Archives New Zealand, Creative Commons License).

Even when you’re not even there yet. Like many expeditions that have set out for the great white continent, the ANSMET team is currently facing a delay right where it’s hurts the most – before we’ve even left civilization. We are currently counting day 5 of being delayed in Christchurch due to the weather and runway conditions down at McMurdo sound.

This is a subtle reminder for us that what we’re planning to do is not going to be a walk in the park. That despite years of operational experience at McMurdo sound, on the comparatively mild climate on the coast of Antarctica, the weather is the all-determining factor in this adventure. And that our final destination, the Davis Ward area on the Polar Plateau, at an altitude of 2700 meters, a mere 500 km from the South Pole, is one of the loneliest places on planet Earth. At times, it will be inaccessible for several weeks. Within a radius of about 800 km, there will be no sign of natural biological life apart from a few lonely frozen bacteria, which makes this place more remote than even the international Space Station, which orbits at an altitude of 400 km above Earth’s surface.

While Christchurch in spring is really a lovely city, and doesn’t seem like a bad place to get stuck in, our minds are already on another continent. During my daily run around the lush greens of Hagley Park, my mind is somewhere between hauling 35 kg of polar clothing, performing survival training, and the logistics of choosing food for a 6 week autonomous existence in a yellow tent at -40°C in the most lonely place on the planet. And in that mindset we pack our bags every night in our hotel rooms, to be ready for an early morning flight out to “the continent”, as polar explorers call it.

So far, 5 times, we got a last minute call that told us that we can’t fly today. Checking back in the hotel, another 24 hours of waiting. The only thing we can do is wait for that next call with a Zen attitude. The comforting part of this is knowing that pretty much every polar explorer was in a very similar situation – in this very town, itching to follow their minds to one of the most fascinating places on Earth. In this spirit, I will finish this blog post with a quote by the Red Hot Chili Peppers: it’s time to leave this town…

Alexander Gerst, Dec 8 2019, Christchurch

BONUS:  some updates from John and a note from Ralph.

From Friday:   “Fat chance that the rest of the team is arriving today.  Right now anyway the visibilty is about a quarter mile and snow.  So unless the weather improves quickly they will have another day in CHCH.  The other two flights that were supposed to come down today have already be put off to tomorrow”.

From Saturday:  “Part of the logistical problem here stems from the fact that one of the USAP twin otters was down out at WAIS and was awaiting a “part” from Canada.  Turns out the “part” was a new engine.  They finally got that down and I think out to WAIS.  But things are so backed up out there that they may need both twin otters that are out there to work during the rare weather windows”.

NOTE from RPH- Paradoxically, this information makes me feel a little better about the delays. The weather and broken aircraft are things completely out of anyone’s control and can’t be scheduled.  It’s a reminder that no matter how much we get frustrated by delays, in many situations kicking up a fuss, no matter how insightful or well-reasoned, isn’t going to help.  Sometimes all we can do is sit quietly, ready to spring into action, and wait for our chance to make progress.  

And it could be worse. Scott and crew, in the picture above, are underway but are already a month behind schedule, completely inexperienced with no idea what they’re getting into. They’ve already lost lives (a seaman fell from the mainmast while trying to return the applause of the crowd on the pier).   We’ve got 40+ years of successful expeditions behind us and hopefully many ahead of us.  No heroism needed or wanted,  frankly; just patience.