So the stories that go with the pictures will have to come at a later date, but here are some of the photographs from the last few days:

A few shots of our working days in Cargo and the social mayhem of James Brown Bingo.

Pictures of Christmas dinner, Cargo White Elephant party, Disc Golf, dancing, the Race Around the World, MET Wine and Cheese Party.

Turns out I forgot to upload photos of the Airdrop, so I’ll catch those (and descriptions) when the next satellite pass hits.

Posted by noblehobo at 01:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Tonight is Christmas eve here at the South Pole, unique in that I’m going to sleep at 3 AM, and it is still early morning on the same day back home. It was a beautiful night, gathered with friends who have become family, great food, good wine, even better conversation, and a late-night dance shindig until the whee hours. Now that the satellite is up on station (solidifying our connection to the internet and the world), nearly every available phone is in use to call home to relatives back stateside. It’s what I’m off to do momentarily.

What catches me, though, as I walk to a phone, across the snowfield between Summer Camp and the new station, is the silence. There are no shifts working, no heavy equipment operating, no tools tearing at metal… There is only the gentle thrum of the generator that keeps us warm and the crunch of our footsteps in the snow.

Out there, in the near silence, if you listen carefully, you can hear the sound of the sky too.

Posted by noblehobo at 07:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Everyone likes packages in the mail. Some of us like them even better when they come from the sky on parachutes.

Yesterday, the Air National Guard, in cooperation with the National Science Foundation, air dropped a series of packages about two miles south of South Pole Station. As a member of the Cargo department, I had a front row seat for the event.

The weather was gorgeous, -15F with clear blue skies and very little wind.

as an aside, that is gorgeous, if you’ve been here for -60F with twenty knot winds

The drop was part of training in the event that a mid-winter airdrop is ever needed. Being that I’ll be one of the few members of Cargo here in July (even though I’ll be working for IT), I paid close attention. The Air Guard delivered twenty packages to us, each consisting of roughly one thousand pounds of food, a foot of honeycombed cardboard to cushion the landing, and a small, high-velocity parachute. The ‘chute, being high-velocity, doesn’t so much slow the package down as it orients it so that the honeycomb cardboard crashes into the ground first.

The packages were dropped from a height of one thousand feet in two passes of ten packages each. It was a beautiful sight to see, goodies from the sky falling from the bottom of a C-17 aircraft. No matter how old I get, aircraft will always enthrall me…

The sound, though, caught my attention. The rumble of the C-17s four jet engines was low and solid, a welcome signal like few others. I imagined what that might sound like in the dark of July, if supplies were needed for an emergency, where the lights of the plane might barely be visible against the stars. Pennies from heaven, with a roar.

After both passes had completed, our Cargo department, BK Grant, the South Pole Area Coordinator (big cheese, amazing woman), several photographers, and two Air Guard Officers (including the head of Operation Deepfreeze, the C-17 support group for Antarctica) proceeded out to the drop zone to investigate the carnage. With the exception of one package landing on another (only slight damage to some broccoli) and one chute not fully deploying (no visible damage, but the package had completely cratered into the snow, little sticking out), the drop was a complete success. The C-17 crew landed the first package within twenty feet of the drop zone target, and both passes strung out within one hundred yards of that.

Cleaning up the parachutes was a cinch, we twisted and bunched them up, packed them away, and wandered back to station to watch the C-17 do a fly-by at 300 feet. One day the plan is to have C-17s land here, but that is an additional Power Plant, several Rodwell water drills, a full Aircraft Rescue Fire Fighter team, and additional housing away (to provide the necessary support). Until then, overfly passes are all we get.

Later that night, Toby, Greg, and I went out to gather packages, but a piece of our equipment broke at the drop zone. After some toying around with a snowmobile to gather some resources (crossing the vast polar plains at high speeds and smiling like a jackass as I hopped drifts), we got our forklift working again. Working again, just in time to drive it back to the station. While we did get to sit in the sun and relax for a few minutes, waiting for our Heavy Shop mechanic to show up, we didn’t get any work done.

The packages are still out there, cratered in the snow two miles grid south of the station.

Pictures for this, Cargo operations, and some of random Polies (folks here) will be up soon.

Posted by noblehobo at 09:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The computer repair ambles slowly along but an update on the soon to be:

- a description (with photos) of the Cargo Handler job

- details (with photos, maybe video) of the airdrop tomorrow (20 thousand pound crates with parachutes and us to dig them out of the snow)

- stories and sordid tales of the upcoming MCI (Mass Casualty Incident) drill that we run annually.

Posted by noblehobo at 11:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Apologies for the delay in writing, my computer’s hardrive decided to spin itself into little metal bits. Well, not quite that severe, but I’ve put a number of hours into recovering my files and getting my laptop back up and running.

Updates soon, but I need a break from my irksome computer lest I throw it against a wall in frustration.

Posted by noblehobo at 10:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

In trade for the sundogs that we’ve had over the past several days, the wind has kicked up snow something fierce. Our skies vacillate between a partial blue and completely obscured. The horizon, to say nothing for the station a mere hundred yards from our Cargo office, fades in and out of view. With the visibility and ceiling height in flux, the incoming LC-130 flights from McMurdo are thrown into chaos.

As I type this, I am waiting for an extraordinarily late flight to arrive. With luck (assuming no weather delays due to visibility) the plane will be on the ground at 4:50 AM. We should be finished with our cargo offload and upload, shutting down equipment, checking cargo in, and delivery by 6 or 6:30 in the morning. On a normal day, we would have finished our ten hours of work by 1 AM.

We’re tired, a bit grumpy, and somewhat slow. But out the window? Two complete circle rainbows surrounding the sun as it traverses across the sky.

Posted by noblehobo at 08:41 AM | Permalink

The sundogs came out to play today for the first time this season. They’ve been around in the barest of hints previously but today, in grand fashion, they danced rainbows around the sun. There was a full circle, outward arcs, a second circle, a false sunset… Imagine a prism between you and the sun, cycle the reflections around, hold out your fist to block the hell star from blinding you, and marvel at the color in the sky.

Amazing what a few blowing ice crystals can do for your day!

Too bad the tradeoff is -45 F windchill…

______________________

Some photos of good sundogs, here and here.

Posted by noblehobo at 09:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

While writing an apology letter related to a certain infamous class reunion “incident”, I realized how thankful I was for a specific book resting on my shelf.

Of my entire collection of tomes buried stateside and the few that I have here at the South Pole, one continues to be used over and over again. I can’t recall who gave it to me any longer (I’m thinking a family member at some point in early high school) but it has been a damn fine resource for years. It’s a grammar book, “Basic English Revisited” filled with goofy cartoons and packed full of advice on proper written English, business letter formats, present and past tense, etc. Exactly the kind of gift not appropriately appreciated at the time of its giving, but dog-eared and well-used now.

So anyhow, here’s a thank-you to the ether for a goofy little reference book that has wandered with me to many locales and aided in the “professional” writing of my life.

Now if only I had mailed my dictionary down…

Posted by noblehobo at 10:39 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I had a goal, once upon a time, to write a letter or postcard each night to a friend or member of the family. Can you guess how many letters I’ve finished so far this year? I’ll give you a hint: if you multiply any number by zero, what do you get?

It’s a matter of both personal fortitude (somewhat lacking) and the brow-beating exhaustion that can be part of the life here. At the end of the day, you have only a set amount of energy to give (a couple of hours or so for me) before sleep comes crashing down upon you, eyes heavy with exhaustion. Setting that time aside for the world outside, for those not part of your present life, takes concerted effort.

In the past, I have been both successful and unsuccessful at providing the effort to stay in touch with the outside world. Each aspect has its rewards and consequences, though they basically boil down to this: concentrating on one world leaves the other to grow more distant. Some relationships bear this distance well, picking up quickly where they left off when they become present again, others do not. I am accustomed to the extremes of each way of life here. I have spent a season entirely here at the South Pole, mentally unavailable to the outside world, as well as having spent a season devoted to a past love eight-thousand miles away, distant to those who knew me here.

This season, all thirteen months of it, I’m striving to find a better balance than the edges of the spectrum. I am striving to stay in touch with the family and friends I have left behind stateside, and also working to grow with the friends that I have here. I don’t feel that there are any easy solutions, just more of the grey of a constantly fluctuating ideal.

So I haven’t yet written any letters…that I will correct soon. In the mean, I’ve written more frequently on this site in the past month than in the past two years. I’ve taken on a role with our Emergency Response teams that pushes my time and person in directions that challenge my skills at decision-making, leadership, trust, and organization. I’ve posted photo albums of the world at the bottom of the planet. I’ve slept and stayed healthy (for a change). I’ve learned a new job and am about to learn another. I’ve driven heavy equipment. I’ve met new friends and bothered (in a good way) old ones. I’ve pondered life some. I’ve toyed with letting love in again. I’ve been largely social and minutely social. I’ve kept balanced and feel that life, overall, is good. No extremes right now, but definitely above average.

So as for those of you who haven’t seen a letter, an email, or a phone call yet or as often as you like, please know that my thoughts are arcing your way and that, as I straighten out this thing I call a life, so to will words and an ear.

All the best of dreams in the mean.

Posted by noblehobo at 08:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)