As of this writing (mid-morning Wednesday our time) we are once again on the board for a flight- our first group aiming for CTAM is scheduled to depart mcmurdo for the airfield at 11:15, but we are a backup for a flight to pole.  Our second group isn’t listed anywhere.  The growing backlog of science flights may ease considerably if we’re lucky.  The weather here is decent, so the three LC-130 aircraft trying to come south from Christchurch (one has launched already, and one has a congressional delegation on it) may make it in today and ease the crunch.   So patience, my friends, patience.

A clumsily-stitched panoramic view of McMurdo from Vince’s Cross. The seals are on the ice behind me.

Which brings me to the subject of seals.  I am no expert on seals,  but having lived with dogs most of my life I am an expert on anthropomorphic fantasies about animals thoughts and behaviors.   This makes it very hard to be objective when observing the weddel seals now scattered across the ice in front of McMurdo Station, but in fact I have no shame-  I think we learn more about things when we try out our intuition on them, and carefully notice where things fit and where they don’t.

More importantly, my daughter Scout is also curious about the seals,  so I promised a blog post about them (I also promised a movie but it’s too big to upload over the tightly-constricted intertubes that connect us to the civilized world).

Seals on the ice near Vince’s Cross. The silvery one in front scratched his belly continously for 5 minutes.

Weddell seals are big- juveniles are roughly human-sized and adults several times bigger than the average human being.  We encounter them mostly (almost entirely) lying on the ice sunbathing.  At first glance they seem pretty immobile, but in fact there’s a lot of little movements going on- waving flippers, scratching, rolling, twisting, often accompanied by little cries.  One can only imagine that they’re trying to sleep but are subtly annoyed by little imperfections in the sun angle, the ice surface, a bit of snow in their fur, an itch on their belly, etc.  Occcasionally one will lift its head, open its eyes and look around with a  “Really, there really has to be an ice-chip right there?   Fine.” and the head goes back down and the snoring continues.

Why are they up here on the ice?   I’m not sure, but I can guess.  Seals are absurdly well-adapted to life in cold water, with thick blubber, waterproof fur, big eyes and an amazing streamlined shape.  They must feel utterly weightless and their freedom of movement underwater must give them a sense of 3D mobility we humans can’t understand.  But the ocean is noisy, and while there’s food there, a few predators are lurking nearby as well (such as killer whales).  So in the summer the seals will swim some distance under the ice shelf, and if they see a hole they’ll chew on it to enlarge it,  and climb on out.   It’s tempting to say they’re sunbathing like a cat in a sunbeam at home, but I don’t think it’s comparable. How long do you have to lay in the sun to feel it’s warmth through 6-8 inches of blubber?   Maybe that explains why they lay there for days at a time.  Even waiting through a day-long storm is worth it for the solar warmth.

They are really beautiful animals- their fur ranges from very dark black to mottled silver and white.  they are both fat and sleek this time of year, shaped like  big well-fed torpedo.  I think (but have no proof) that I  can tell the young from the old-  the young ones, not quite as good at hunting,  are nowhere near as fat as the older ones, and bear very few scars. typical youth,  sleek and pretty and maybe not so wise.

They also are not very fastidious. If a seal has come out of a hole recently you can often see a trail of muck leading to their resting place.  The blood is probably from scratches on the ice, from minor fights with other seals for breathing holes, and occasionally from the birth of young (though I think we’re past that season right now).  If the wind is right, you can definitely smell them- kind of a fishy barnyard smell.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who sometimes fantasizes having a nap with the seals,  but besides being a major violation of the Antarctic Conservation Act,  it’s probably not nearly as cuddly as you think.  Sure, a seal may seem like the perfect big warm furry pillow,  but more realistically it’s a stinky, wet, cold and sleepy bag of complaints likely to roll over and squish you thinking nothing more than  “oh great,  another lump.  Just my luck….”

-posted by rph from mcmurdo, 17Dec