penguins and pink boots

2008-03-31T19:01:00.001+13:00

leap of faith.

aloha from hawaii! (I blame the long period of silence since my last blog entry on polynesian paralysis.)

D and I left the ice on 17 february -- our first trip on the same C-17. we had always deployed and redeployed on separate flights, so it was fun to experience it together for once. our flight left right on time and we were in christchurch by early evening. the flights after ours, scheduled for the 19th, 21st, and 23rd, weren't so lucky. they were victims of various weather delays, and the final summer pax didn't depart pegasus field until the 25th.

on this trip to NZ, I was determined to see more of the south island than I had before, so D and I rented the world’s cutest hatchback (painted a lovely sinus-infection color) and headed north to maruia springs, a japanese-style hot springs resort nestled in a green valley.

next stop was nelson, where we set up D’s tent in a hostel’s backyard. we spent the next few days lazing around, exploring abel tasman and farewell spit, knitting, watching movies on the laptop, and generally recovering from six-day workweeks.

D did most of the driving, which I was thankful for – I can drive on the left side if I have to, but I was nervous that I would forget and go barreling into the wrong lane, which would probably be cause for at the very least a dirty look and maybe a rotten kiwifruit lobbed in my direction. I kept turning on the windshield wipers instead of the turn indicator, which was embarrassing. on the way back to christchurch we stopped in punakaiki to see the famed pancake rocks, curious geologic formations that resemble stacks and stacks of pancakes piled onto each other. I started to think about breakfast foods and of course then I got hungry, so we had to leave.

after my first season on the ice, I hiked the banks peninsula track, a 35-km trail that originates and ends in akaroa on the south island. the track can be hiked in either two or four days, and in the interest of time I had done the two-day option. it was pleasantly rigorous and the two huts I stayed at were quaint and comfortable, but I made up my mind to someday return and do the four-day option to take in the stunning views at a more leisurely pace and to stay in all four huts. D hadn’t hiked it before (not properly, anyway – he had hiked most of the peninsula’s roads but hadn’t seen a lot of the coastline), so we signed up to do the track from 25 – 28 february.

it could not have been a more perfect hike. the weather was absolutely gorgeous, the views were just as ridiculously breathtaking as I’d remembered, the other two huts were something out of a dream, and our fellow hikers (five older kiwis from the north island) provided great conversation and company in the evenings.

being middle-aged, they would start out early in the mornings to get a head start, but D and I would inevitably pass them by 9:30 or so. there was lots of good-natured ribbing about this and also the fact that D was diligently working on a knitting project during the downtimes. one of the kiwi blokes, a guy named ross, took every opportunity to poke fun at D (in a chummy way) about his feminine qualities. D took no heed and produced a very respectable hat knit in stockinette stitch with a one-inch, 2x2 ribbed trim at the bottom and a pom-pom on top.

in the evenings, we would settle into our huts, cook up a simple meal and open a bottle of wine (available on an honor basis from the tiny stores that also sold staples like bread, milk, eggs, meat and canned goods). there were tree swings and bathtubs under the stars, dips in the cold southern ocean and hunting for clams on the beach. it was a perfect four days.

upon reaching akaroa, we said goodbye to our new friends and headed back to christchurch to meet up with megan and susie, who had just come off the ice. the four of us flew up to auckland and checked into a seaside cabin at orewa beach, a holiday community north of the city.

the weather was marginal for the next few days, but not to worry – we located the town’s one yarn store and went crazy. the four of us could not have been happier stuck inside the tiny cabin, drinking endless cups of tea, eating biscuits and working on our respective projects. the ducks that frequented the holiday park would waddle up onto the deck and even into the cabin looking for a handout, and ducks are inherently funny creatures, so we were never at a loss for cheap entertainment.

the real reason we were killing time in auckland was because – thanks to my friend benny, who plays bass guitar for santana – we had guest passes to the santana show on 4 march! as if this wasn’t enough, benny treated us all to thai food the night before, where I presented him with some proper antarctic schwag in return – a hat from the south pole and an icestock t-shirt. he was very excited and promised to wear the shirt on stage the following night. sure enough, when we showed up at the vector arena for the concert, he walked onstage sporting his antarctic finery.

it was an amazing show – full of blistering solos by benny and his bandmates, infectious afro-caribbean rhythms, and the unbelievable musicianship of carlos santana himself – but the icing on the cake was backstage access after the show. benny graciously introduced us around, and we were properly starstruck – but the band members were acting like WE were the celebrities, having just come from antarctica!

here we are, L-R:
drummer dennis chambers
susie
delaney
bassist benny rietveld (www.bennyworld.com)
me
megan

the band manager even expressed interest in getting the band down to the ice for a concert. perhaps I will have to go back for another season after all.

here is benny modeling the latest in antarctic concert t-shirt fashion.

coming down off the santana concert high, we then took off for three days on the coromandel peninsula east of auckland, an area reputed to have the best beaches in the southern hemisphere. some family friends, john and juanita, maintain a holiday home (or ‘bach,’ as they are called in NZ) there and had invited us to come check out these beaches for ourselves. we were only too happy to oblige.

john and juanita proved the consummate hosts, stuffing us full of food and wine, introducing us around their holiday community, pointing out such essentials as the hammock and the lounge chairs, taking us to a private beach accessible only by a fifteen-minute hike, and providing scintillating conversation. in return, we duly told them more than they had ever wanted to know about life on the ice.

all too soon, the three days were over, and as we packed up our car to leave, john mournfully said We didn’t know what we were going to do with you before you got here, and now we can’t imagine what we’re going to do without you.

truly some of the best people I know.

back in auckland, we said goodbye to susie and megan and flew off to sydney for a week and a half in australia. D attended ‘uni’ in wollongong for a semester and still has a number of good friends in the area, so we crashed with some mates of his before flying off to perth. a highlight of our time was a rugby game at aussie stadium – my first! D’s friend cameron is the strength and conditioning trainer for the sydney warratahs, and we were able to get tickets through his connections. I found rugby much more exciting than regular old american gridiron football, and more complicated than soccer. a very entertaining evening.

the next day we flew to perth to visit with my friends marilyn and allen, as well as marilyn’s son scottie, a chef who is staying with them while looking for work in australia. marilyn was feeling stronger and looking better than a year ago, when she had recently completed several months’ worth of cancer treatments, and it was a joy to see her back to her old vibrant self.

the three of them treated us to a week of gourmet meals, leisurely beach time (they live two blocks from the indian ocean, which was much warmer than the water in NZ), knitting tips for me and D, and day trips to nearby sights.

we picnicked at serpentine falls and made friends with the local kangaroos; and took in a sculpture exhibition at cottesloe beach; but the highlight of the week was a visit to penguin island, a nature reserve where marilyn volunteers.

penguin island is home to several orphaned fairy (or little) penguins, the smallest penguins in the world. we got to see them being fed and then strolled around the island viewing the other wildlife. it was clear to us that this was a very dear place to marilyn, and it was truly magical – a refuge from the hustle and bustle of the real world, where the birds would practically eat out of your hand.

our time in perth at a much-too-soon end, we flew back to sydney and took a day trip to kiama, a lovely little seaside town south of wollongong (where D had attended a semester of uni). we spent several hours dipping our feet in the salt-water swimming pool, strolling around the quaint downtown area, and soaking up the local ambience (mostly in the form of meat pies).

as the crowning touch to a great trip, we were able to get an audience with one of the world’s newest people, my friends doug and belinda's six-day-old son finn. he was charming, debonair, well-versed in the various nutritional properties and benefits of breast milk, and only pooped once (to my knowledge) while I was holding him. what an absolute cutie.

on the 19th, it was off to hawaii for a few weeks with my family. today is the 31st, and it’s been nothing but mellow good times with friends and rellies (including susie, who stayed with us for four days), swimming adventures with tate, house-sitting for my sister’s boss high above honolulu in st. louis heights, catching up with pals (old for me, new for D), lots of potlucks, and – now for something completely different – my first skydiving experience.

as an end-of-season thank you gift, myrna and christina had gifted me with a skydive. I was touched and suspicious all at the same time. what does it mean when your co-workers tell you to jump out of an airplane? anyway, I didn’t want to read too far into the gesture, so we set up the appointment for monday the 24th. christina and her boyfriend brian would be meet us there. susie didn’t want to jump (she had done it once before) and so she would be the event’s documentarian.

we met out at dillingham airfield, on the western point of o'ahu, bright and early. it was perfect weather -- clear and sunny with very little wind. we checked in, signed about sixteen pages of legal waivers, and met our tandem instructors to get into our harnesses. after a short briefing, we walked out to the strip.

our airplane was a tiny twin-otter-like craft, with two benches and a rolling door. all four of us went tandem, so there were eight of us in the airplane. we trundled fast down the airstrip with the door open. my instructor, jason, rolled it shut just before takeoff, placing himself precariously close to the opening. I didn't know whether to be terrified or relieved that this was such a casual affair.

D and his instructor jumped out first. they went to the door of the plane and -- POOF -- they were gone! christina had warned me that it would be weird to see a friend there one moment and gone the next, and it was. it wasn't like they had just stepped around the corner and were hiding -- they were gone! next it was my turn. for some reason, I wasn't nervous, just very focused. they don't give you time to think or to be scared -- it's very streamlined and efficient.

maybe I wasn't nervous because jason was a very laid-back dude wearing shorts and chaco sandals. he had done over nine thousand jumps, so I figured he knew what he was doing. and if something went wrong and our chute didn't open, well...at least my death would be quick.

jason gave me a few brief pointers, we went to the door, he counted one two three and out we went. I thought I would go mad for the first few seconds when I felt like I was falling. I REALLY hate that feeling. but very soon we reached terminal velocity and it didn't feel like falling anymore, just like we were in a wind tunnel. I kept trying to breathe normally and relish the freefall because I knew it would be over too soon, and of course it was.

jason tapped me on the shoulder twice, a signal that he was going to open the chute, and then we SCREECHED to a halt and started floating. it was much calmer and easier to take in our surroundings once the chute went up, and very peaceful. he did a few turns so that we could get a 360-degree view of mokuleia, and then it was time to land. he maneuvered us perfectly onto the landing field and we trotted to a stop.

sorry it’s taken me so long to update the blog – thanks for reading this far! I hope this finds everyone well and enjoying either spring or fall. D and I will be back in seattle on 9 april and are looking forward to catching up with that contingency.

until the next entry,
parachute love,
c.

2008-02-08T11:41:00.000+13:00

eclipse craziness.

the christchurch airport has been closed due to an attempted hijacking. this means our C-17 will certainly not launch on time -- it was scheduled to off-deck in CHC at 1000 this morning.

what complicates matters is that there are 15 pax coming out of the south pole station via LC-130 this morning as well. they were destined to land at pegasus airfield at around the same time as the C-17, get off one aircraft, and get on the other -- and head straight on to CHC. they are what we call 'straight-thrus.'

if the C-17 isn't there to meet them, this complicates matters. do we have enough beds in mcmurdo (our maximum bed space is 1100)? do we have shuttle operations to support transporting them from the airfield back to town? if we're going to keep them at the airfield and have them wait for the eventual arrival of the C-17, do we have meals for them at the airfield galley? what about their baggage, if they do come into town -- does it stay on the baggage pallets or come off?

the whole business of sending people off the continent (redeploying them), whether from mcmurdo or south pole or a field camp, is a tricky one. at the end of any given season, there are a finite number of flights that have been agreed-upon, long before, by the military and the NSF. with each flight costing hundreds of thousands of dollars of USAP money, these numbers are not taken lightly. the aircraft have finite numbers of seat pallets on them. this year, in contrast to previous years in which a C-17 held 140 seats, we only have 126 seats per C-17...as there is a shortage of usable seat pallets due to the war in iraq.

this means that each space is even more coveted, and flight manifests are even harder to build. hundreds of people have to redeploy over a three-week time period, and every single one of those people believes wholeheartedly that their redeployment date is a sacred, untouchable thing.

there's a definite science to manifesting people according to their priority level. top-level priority is any medevac. this brings its own set of problems. a medevac usually requires an attendant in the form of a flight nurse or flight surgeon. and if the patient is on a litter, that takes up the space of four seats. so a total of five people can potentially be bumped if a medevac needs to get out.

the next-top level of priority is someone who has been terminated. for obvious reasons, a recent termination is a potentially dangerous (at the worst) or mischievous (at the least) person. for this reasons, terminations have to be timed carefully, especially in light of possible weather or mechanical delays.

next in line is a patient transport, which is someone who is being sent north for medical reasons that are not dire. for example: earlier in the season, delaney took a soccer ball in the eye at close range. a week later, the pain was gone, but his vision was still blurry, so he went north to get a second opinion from an opthalmologist there.

next would be someone who has not been terminated, but has resigned voluntarily. getting this type of person off-continent is still a priority -- the longer they're around, the more resources they use (to put it in a mildly heartless way), without being productive community members in return. supposedly, several seasons ago, someone quit during winter but, due to flight schedules, remained on-station. he walked down the main hallway, borrowed a hammer from the housing office, returned to the galley, and attacked a co-worker with it. he was later apprehended back in the main hallway swinging the hammer and whistling 'mary had a little lamb.' ever since, resignations have been sent away as quickly as possible.

as far as those who rank at the bottom of the totem pole, there's a science to that too. when planning redeployment, everyone is asked to designate themselves as one of the following categories of traveler:

first available (FAA), which means just that -- put me on the next available flight home.
actual with flight priority -- I know what date I want to travel home, but it's not immediate. and in case of a delay in getting to christchurch, I want the actual flight to take precedence over total time spent in christchurch.
actual with hotel priority -- I know what date I want to travel home, and in case of a delay, I want the number of nights in the hotel to take precedence over the flight date.
open -- I have no idea what I'm going to do yet. I'll figure it out once I get to new zealand.

the most bumpable pax are those who work for the contractor -- raytheon polar services, as opposed to a grantee or someone who works for the NSF -- and who have designated themselves in open status. by definition, they're undecided, and so are the most expendable.

due to the fact that one can be bumped at any time due to pax prioritization, mechanical difficulties with the aircraft, or the threat of bad weather, USAP participants are urged from day one not to make any kind of expensive or hard-to-change onward travel plans. nevertheless, someone always does. a woman in the supply department was told by her supervisor upon signing her contract not to do this. she was told again repeatedly over the course of the season. so what did she do? once she learned of her redeployment date, she booked a flight from christchurch back to the states and then on to frankfurt, germany. for the next day. predictably enough, she got bumped to a later flight due to overcrowding -- and now has to eat the cost of making changes. silly woman!

yesterday afternoon we had a partial solar eclipse. the moon slid in front of the sun for several minutes. the skies and the water in winter quarters bay darkened, everyone rushed to a window or door to look, and I think I heard a dog howl.

coincidence?

http://www.nzherald.co.nz/section/1/story.cfm?c_id=1&objectid=10491291

2008-02-08T09:21:00.000+13:00

knitting pretty.

I've been making pompom hats for people now that the craft fair is over and I can devote more time to individual projects. here's michelle, one of our dining attendants, wearing one of my recent creations.

and a week after I got to go to the south pole, D got to go too -- on a morale trip! never one to sit idly, he made sure to take his current knitting project with him on the plane -- a scarf knit on the diagonal.

2008-02-05T14:39:00.000+13:00

the swedish are coming!

last month, the swedish icebreaker Oden steamed into the ross sea en route to mcmurdo station. for the last two years, the swedes have been hired by the NSF as the primary icebreakers, whose job is to open a channel in the seasonal sea ice surrounding mcmurdo so that the annual fuel tanker and resupply vessel can get to the station. this job used to be filled by the US coast guard with one of their two icebreakers - the Polar Sea and the Polar Star. however, there are myriad costs built into the price of hiring the coast guard vessels -- for example, upkeep and maintenance of the gargantuan ships (compared to the small Oden) and training costs for the crew members, who are required to participate in things like homeland security training. the price of hiring the swedes is but a fraction of renting the coast guard. like shopping for furniture at IKEA, getting the Oden to break ice is a good deal -- neat, stylish and practical.

on board the ship, along with approximately twenty salty crew members, were about twenty-five scientists. these scientists were along for the ride to perform 'science of opportunity' on the way to mcmurdo, and once they got within helo distance of our station, the plan was to helicopter them off and send them north with their scientific samples and data via C-17.

because these grantees (and one cook who had a medical condition) would be coming off the ship and spending some time in mcmurdo prior to the flight north, they needed to be briefed on certain information, just like any other arriving pax. every arrival brief needs to contain the following USAP tidbits:

what number to call in an emergency (911, just like in the states)
touching or harassing the wildife is a big no-no
no smoking indoors unless you're in a designated smoking area
you must have your laptop screened by the IT department for viruses before you plug in
don't download copyrighted information or anything offensive once you do
don't be a poopyhands -- please wash your hands before going into the galley

etc., etc.

I must have been living right, because the day before the Oden was to burp its scientists out onto our shores, I got a phone call that I was headed to the ship via helicopter to perform their arrival briefing.

I hurriedly doctored my existing powerpoint presentation (weeding out a lot of the stuff that is only pertinent if you're staying at mcmurdo for an extended length of time) and ran home to put on my ECW gear and grab D's camera. the NSF station manager had asked me to get some shots of the ice channel from the air, and delaney has a sweet pentax that would be just the thing.

the Oden had already broken a channel about ten miles into the sea ice and had stopped to let us board. there were several of us -- the point of contact for vessel operations, two guys from the science cargo department, two guys from the hazardous waste department, a helitech, and me. in addition to scientists, the ship would be offloading scientific samples, waste and lots of gear. mark and doug would ensure that the haz waste was properly contained and labeled. same for michael and keith with the scientific cargo. jena would weigh all the passengers and calculate the flight load of each helo trip. and once my arrival brief was delivered, I was cheap labor along for the ride.

we whup-whupped out to where it sat perched on the edge of the channel and touched down delicately next to it. they had set out a little ladder for us to climb up to the deck.

we got out of the helicopter, walked over frozen sea ice and clambered up in our bunny boots. a blond middle-aged woman welcomed us aboard and showed us where to stash our snowy boots and hang up our coats. the floor was smooth parquet and the lighting was warm and homey. there were still christmas decorations up, including a christmas tree in the galley. the floor felt smooth and clean under our stocking feet and there were good smells coming from the kitchen. we would be there for lunch, and were informed that today was spaghetti day.

some of the framed prints -- of leaves and flowers and trees -- hanging on the walls looked vaguely familiar. I realized that I had seen them on sale at IKEA in seattle.

a few minutes later, all the scientists had been mustered in the galley. I introduced myself and the reason I was about to make them sit through a short presentation, and launched right into it.

my spiel only took thirty minutes, but it would be several hours before I could board a helicopter back to mcmurdo. there were only two helicopters allocated to shuttle scientists, all their gear and baggage, and us back to mcmurdo, and they were going to have to make several trips. so we relaxed, ate some spaghetti, marveled at the cleanliness of the ship (the kitchen was so clean you could walk around in it barefoot), helped schlep baggage out to the deck so it could be lowered over the side with a net and crane, and took photos.

by mid-afternoon, everyone but the mcmurdoites had been ferried back to mcmurdo. we climbed aboard, strapped on our helmets, plugged in our radios, and lifted off. the pilot let me sit up front this time, and dipped this way and that so I could get views of the seals lounging on the sea ice.

just another day at work.

2008-02-02T10:29:00.000+13:00

playing in the snow.

a few pictures from this year's icestock, the annual outdoor music festival.

2008-02-01T17:58:00.001+13:00

a fun picture of our bike rack from a snowstorm a couple of weeks ago.

2008-01-31T18:21:00.000+13:00

international cooperation.

this is one of those stories that I get to hear because of the nature of my job, and I think it's both funny (except for the poor guy's thumb) and a good illustration of the international nature of the seventh continent.

yesterday we got word of a chilean crew member aboard a spanish ship near the french antarctic station cutting off his thumb in an industrial accident. he will be picked up by an italian twin otter aircraft, which is piloted by canadians, and brought to the american station, where he will be evaluated by medical staff before being flown to new zealand and on home.

2008-01-30T18:21:00.000+13:00

finally.

after almost three complete summer seasons, I was given the chance to go to 90 degrees south – scott-amundsen south pole station.

the station is named after first two men to reach the south pole on foot – the brit robert falcon scott, and norwegian roald amundsen. scott reached the pole frozen and half-starved only to see a norwegian flag stuck in the snow – it had been there for two weeks. oh, and he died on the way back to the coast, along with most of his men. that’s gotta suck.

this has been a busy season for the south pole station. a new elevated building has recently been completed and dedicated – a state-of-the-art facility that includes housing, offices, the cafeteria, a greenhouse, gymnasium facilities, a communications center, and lots of other things – all in a massive building on stilts that allows for snow to blow underneath instead of piling up alongside.

in stark contrast to the old dome (the original south pole station facility), which used to house most of the station’s facilities and which is half-buried, emptied these days of everything except pallets of frozen food, and slated for destruction in the next year or so, the elevated station is perched proudly atop snow piled two miles deep. earlier this month, a huge gaggle of distinguished visitors was flown to the station for a day trip that included a dedication ceremony, where they were given antarctic schwag and shown around the facility before boarding the planes that brought them back to mcmurdo and then took them on to christchurch.

it's really astounding to think that everything that went into building the new elevated south pole station was flown there on LC-130 - on approximately 925 separate missions.

anyway, back to my trip. for the second time this season, one of my chaladies (myrna this time) connived behind my back and, in cahoots with station management both here and at pole, got me manifested on a day trip last week. I really need to start cracking down on myrna and christina. they are sooooooooo sneaky.

the day prior, I went to the medical clinic and got a packet of diamox. the docs urge southbound pax to start diamox the day prior to going to pole to pre-empt altitude sickness. the altitude at pole is not quite 10,000 feet, but due to a phenomenon called physiological altitude, it feels much higher – somewhere in the neighborhood of 12,000 feet. and you get there in a single LC-130 flight from sea level, which doesn’t leave much time at all for acclimatization. in contrast to nepal, where we had several days to get used to the idea of summiting at 18,000 feet, my body had three hours to adjust. every season, someone at pole is medevacked due to acute altitude sickness of either the pulmonary or cerebral variety (which cause such pleasant things as hacking up pink froth from the lungs or projectile-vomiting, not to mention coma and death), and more often than not, it turns out that the victim refused their diamox on the way through mcmurdo. altitude sickness can plague those who have never before had problems with altitude, even if they’re in relatively good health, so the docs here push those little white pills on people for good reason.

properly drugged and along with one of my best girlfriends, susie, I reported at 0700 for transport to the plane. we were driven out to williams field to catch the first line (mission) of the day, along with about twenty others. in the group was a team from CBS news and also one from NPR, here from the states to capture footage for specials that will be edited, produced and aired in the near future.

we were given earplugs, a box of flight snacks, and a safety briefing on what to do in the event of a crash (muster 300 feet from the nose of the aircraft and wait for further instructions from crew). then, with the props starting to whirr, we climbed aboard and strapped ourselves into the webbed nylon seats that lined each side of the LC-130. a member of the crew pointed out the toilet facilities – a urinal at the front of the aircraft for the men, and a toilet at the rear for the ladies (shielded by an olive-green shower curtain). classy.

and we were off!

the flight took roughly three hours, putting us on the ground by 1130. we stepped off into the roar of the propellers and hauled ourselves and our ECW bags off the skiway and toward the elevated station. it was freezing cold and sunny and clear and OH MY GOD I WAS AT THE SOUTH POLE!

susie’s brother tim works on a science project at the south pole called ice cube. the project, which is so huge it constitutes its own line item separate from the NSF yearly budget, involves drilling kilometer-deep holes into the packed snow and ice under the south pole. into these holes, which are roughly three feet in diameter, are lowered cables onto which are strung sixty basketball-sized objects called digital optical modules (DOMs, for short). each DOM costs thousands of dollars and holds sophisticated equipment that can detect the collision of subatomic particles called neutrinos with ice molecules, which release a spark of energy. data from these collisions is sent up huge cables (see pic), collected and analyzed to give the scientists clues into the timeless mysteries such as age and size of the universe, cosmic happenings many worlds away, and why it’s impossible to say ‘expedia’ without adding on the little sing-song ‘dot-com’ at the end.

tim was standing at the skiway to meet us. he suggested we dump our stuff in his room (everyone at pole gets their own room, in contrast to mcmurdo, where rooms are shared by anywhere from two to six people). we climbed the stairs to the first floor of the station, where beth, the station support manager, greeted us and welcomed us to the pole, and then we were free to wander at will.

first item was of course to get our hero shots at the geographic and ceremonial south poles. the geographic south pole consists of a metal marker that is moved every year due to the fact that the snow piled on top of the continent moves several feet in a year’s time. the ceremonial pole, a few feet away, is surrounded by the flags of the countries that signed the original antarctic treaty and consists of a larger pole topped with a shiny metal ball. it’s the prettier of the two markers and is a popular spot for folks to take pictures of themselves. not until much later did I realize that I had been standing at the southernmost point of the entire planet. at the time, I was concentrating on squinting so that my retinas wouldn’t combust (the sunlight and snow made it very, very bright there) and on keeping all my extremities covered (even with no wind, the ambient temperature of -40F kept us on our toes).

after the hero shots, tim and our friend bear took us around the various facilities. bear picked us up on a people-sled rigged to a skidoo and off we zoomed.

led by another friend, sven, we toured the icecube facility and saw them drilling the final hole of the season - #18 of 18. the project will eventually drill so many of these holes that they will take up an entire square kilometer – and since they go down a kilometer in depth, the entire thing will resemble a cube – hence the name. we were not only lucky enough to see the drilling in action (done with a high-pressure hose that uses two engines totalling roughly 6700 horsepower to shoot hot water into the hole, then pump out the resulting meltwater, heat it, and pump it back in to continue drilling) – we got to sign one of the DOMs with a sharpie – something that only DVs are allowed to do! our DOM, named ‘wolf’ (each one has a name, like ‘ear’ or ‘tube top’ or ‘jerusalem’) will be lowered into the hole along with 59 others and frozen into the hole, where it will watch neutrinos colliding with ice molecules for the rest of time.

here is sven, explaining the finer points of icecube to a captivated susie.

next we visited the NOAA (national oceanic and atmospheric administration) facility, a separate building in a wedge-shaped plot of snow called the clean air sector. basically, the air in this area, due to the lack of winds carrying pollution or other contaminants into it, is the cleanest in the world. the scientists showed us the vials they use to capture the air and test it for carbon dioxide levels. then they gave each of us a little glass vial in which to capture our own ‘cleanest air on earth.’ on the side they wrote the date and the carbon dioxide level for that day, which (incidentally) was off the given chart. if anyone tells you that climate change is a myth, send ‘em over to me – I’ve got the evidence in a little glass jar on my desk.

due to the length of our visit (nine hours on the ground), we were allowed to eat both lunch and dinner in the south pole galley, where the cooks had dished up sloppy joes for lunch and beef bourgignone for dinner – fabulous! my buddy keith, who cooks at mcmurdo, was there too, working in the kitchen as a replacement for a SP cook who had gone to mcmurdo for the week on R&R. (anyone who is slated to do a summer-winter contract at pole gets to spend a week in mcmurdo on R&R prior to winter. the polies usually spend this week lounging in the coffeehouse during the day, hiking our trails, looking at the wildlife, and running around in shirt-sleeves – all things they are unable to do at pole even in the summer.)

after dinner, beth took us down into the tunnels dug into the snow under the station. these tunnels are roughly ten feet tall and five feet wide, and they contain the sewage and water lines that run between the disparate sections of the station. parts of them have inevitably burst from the cold, so the tunnels, even at the cozy temperature of -60F, smell faintly of poo.

they were lit by what looked like hanging miners’ lamps, and the walls were smooth packed snow, the ceilings fuzzy with frost. side tunnels snaked off in different directions, and some of these held interesting offerings and art installations, such as a real pig’s head that had been stolen out of food waste and mounted on a plaque and adorned with a pair of sunglasses. another tunnel held a two-foot-long sturgeon, displayed in a window cut out of the snow wall. in a plastic sleeve tacked to the wall was a typewritten account of how the sturgeon had come to rest in a snow tunnel under the south pole. apparently it had come off a food shipment headed to vostok (the russian station in east antarctica), spent a winter atop a food container at williams field, and been hand-carried to the pole under one of the pax seats on an LC-130. it was therefore much more well-traveled than the average mililani resident.

I would have many, many more pictures from my day trip to the pole, but delaney’s camera battery kept freezing. I had it under my jacket, sheltered from the wind, and would pop it out to take a quick photo before it succumbed to the cold. in the snow tunnels, I couldn’t take more than a couple – and due to the poor lighting, they didn’t come out anyway. here is one of me, however, upon emerging from the tunnels.

all too soon, it was time to head back to the skiway to board our return flight. susie, a firefighter named will, and myself were the only pax on the aircraft this time. dehydration and altitude, as well as sheer exhaustion, had taken their toll on me, and even though I had fully planned to try to sit up in the cockpit on the way home, all I could do was sink into a supine position on the webbed nylon seat and lie in a little red-parka pile all the way back. we got into mcmurdo at 1:00 am.

I had been to the south pole and back in one day. I had taken my hero shot, shopped at the store, eaten two hot meals, marveled at a pig’s head stuck to a wall, toured science facilities, and all without having to eat seal blubber or amputate a frozen limb. roald amundsen and robert falcon scott would have been jealous.

2008-01-18T17:15:00.000+13:00

the toughest job we ever loved.

the mcmurdo station RPCVs (returned peace corps volunteers) had a little get-together at the chalet last month. here we are!

L-R:

sharona (cameroon), shuttle driver
neoma (honduras), shuttle driver
vince (nicagarua), janitor
me (mongolia), admin coordinator
myrna (chile), admin coordinator
jenny (mongolia, but she left a year before I arrived), dining attendant
mike (cape verde), housing supervisor
travis (peru), supply materialsperson
lindsay (peru), admin coordinator

and here is the text of an article I wrote up about our gathering for the peace corps online magazine:

A remote location with strange cultural phenomena.
Exotic foods and the accompanying gastrointestinal distress.
Homesickness, frequent e-mails, language lessons, cross-cultural sharing, and occasional frustration with bureaucratic red tape.
The opportunity to make a small, but very real, difference.

Sound familiar?

To the Returned Peace Corps Volunteers at Antarctica’s McMurdo Station, they sure do.

In what was probably the southernmost gathering of RPCVs in history (77° S), nine of us came together in December to share our Peace Corps experiences and stories with each other, friends and co-workers. All of us are employed at McMurdo Station as contract workers during the austral summer season, which lasts October to February, and which sees a flurry of activity all designed to support scientific research and exploration of the Seventh Continent.

The United States Antarctic Program, which is funded by the National Science Foundation, has three year-round stations on the continent – McMurdo, Palmer, and Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station. McMurdo is the largest of these, with over 1100 people in the austral summer season. Roughly three to four hundred of these are scientists who have secured funding from the NSF to gather data for various scientific projects, ranging from atmospheric and ozone studies to antifreeze properties in fish and penguin blood. The rest of McMurdo’s residents are the support staff that help to operate and manage the station 24 hours a day. The sun doesn’t set in the austral summer, which (coupled with the short five-month field season) means operations continue around the clock to get everything ready for the next long, cold winter.

McMurdo has everything that a small town or college campus or remote mining camp would have – an airport (actually three), a harbor and pier, a cafeteria, a library, a store (complete with video rental), a chapel, three gymnasiums, a craft and ceramics room, a state-of-the-art laboratory, warm and cold storage facilities, a power plant, staff berthing, a heavy shop to repair vehicles, a Wells Fargo ATM, and even a tiny greenhouse. Supplies are flown in via military aircraft on a regular schedule during the austral summer (no flights arrive over the winter), and a resupply vessel steams into port late in the season to carry away a year’s worth of waste.

The support staff at McMurdo is made up almost universally of adventurous, well-read and well-traveled people that leave friends and family behind for several months a year to deploy to Antarctica and support scientific research and exploration in our individual roles. It’s the perfect place for an RPCV to feel right at home.

For more information about the USAP, go to www.usap.gov.

2007-12-27T13:37:00.000+13:00

sleigh ride.

as I mentioned in a previous posting, this season I was selected with five others to be a harbinger of good cheer as a santa's elf. we were on weather delay friday and saturday, but sunday dawned clear and calm, and by 11:50 am we were aloft -- with packages of goodies, lots of spare camera batteries, and enough babbling, childlike excitement to power a small country.

we got dressed in our santa 'n' elf garb at the helo pax terminal. there were enough santa jackets, hats, and pants for most of us -- and a cute little mrs. santa dress for me. putting this stuff on over our ECW gear (which is required for all helicopter flights) was a bit of a challenge -- thank god most of it was generously oversized.

here I am with larry, the operations manager, who went as santa in place of terry, the NSF representative. terry was busy that day, so larry (who is more santa-like in appearance anyway) got to go.

we were to deliver boxes of goodies to each field camp, along with any post that had arrived for them. the boxes contained wheels of brie, sausages, and fresh-baked pastries and cookies from our hardworking galley staff. the boxes were loaded into the 'meat wagon' for transport to the helicopter.

once we were all dressed and had selected our helmets, weighed in and given our hand-carry bags to the helitech, we got a safety briefing. as in my experience a couple of weeks ago, when I accompanied the DVs to the historic huts, I learned how to use the radio embedded in the helmet, how to use the four-point harness seat belt, and what position to assume in case of a hard landing. here's jena pointing out our six destinations on a ross island region map. we would be visiting lake hoare, lake fryxell, marble piont, minna bluff, mt. morning, and black island.

we all posed in front of the helo pax terminal for a pre-flight photo. L - R: don the airfield operations manager, jim the heavy shop supervisor, kathy the postmistress (in the background), gerald the fleet ops supervisor, larry the operations manager, and mike the crary laboratory utility technician. most of these folks have several seasons of ice time under their belts -- gerald alone has nearly twenty-five -- so I was very surprised to be selected as their fellow elf.

first stop: lake hoare in the dry valleys, a field camp located smack dab next to canada glacier. (in case any of you are wondering, a glacier is basically a river of ice. it moves a lot slower than a river made of water, but it still moves. chunks fall, or 'calve,' off a glacier's front, which can make it an exciting place to be.) there is a permanent camp staff of two people, and various science groups use the camp as their base on and off throughout the season. the primary group at the moment is studying ecosystem processes and biodiversity in a cold desert environment.

we were greeted by rae, the camp manager, who escorted us into the kitchen hut and gave us tea and cookies. we might as well have been visiting a mining camp on the moon. there were tents scattered about, as well as huts containing various pieces of scientific equipment. and right there, looming next to the camp, was the unearthly white glacier.

then rae took us on a short nature walk around camp. first stop: the desiccated skeleton of a long-dead penguin. the dry valleys are a long way from the sea ice, but occasionally a confused or disoriented seabird or -mammal will wander up, away from its family and friends, to die a lonely death in total isolation. scientists have pondered what would make an animal do this -- perhaps a virus that attacks the part of the brain that enables navigation or orienteering, or an innate instinct that tells a sick animal to leave and not endanger the others.

here's rae, standing next to the six-year-old carcass of a seal that met the same sad, confused fate. what would possess a seal, so graceful underwater but ungainly and awkward on land, to haul itself miles and miles over gravel and scree to starve to death in the dry valleys? poor guy.

here's one of the grantees, a woman named andrea, standing next to a scott tent anchored by rocks. as if we needed anything to further cement the whole 'I'm on the moon' feeling.

here's another gorgeous view of a glacier. these sights were a dime a dozen. I had to pinch myself repeatedly.

we landed at minna bluff at the same time as another helicopter. an environmental crew was there to do some documentation and recovery, so it was an exciting time for the minna bluff camp. two helos in their front yard.

we lined up for another group shot. yes, it was kind of windy.

I took about a hundred and fifty pictures over the course of the flight, way too many to post here, but these were the highlights. it truly was one of the best days of my life. a chance to see the beautiful ross sea and environs from the air, with a experienced pilot and picture-perfect weather...and all while wearing a red poofy dress with cotton balls glued onto it. it doesn't get any better.

2007-12-27T12:04:00.000+13:00

christmas in the mcmurdo ski lodge.

merry merry!

and back to work, the day after christmas.

2007-12-23T09:57:00.000+13:00

crafty.

here's a pic of me at this year's arts & crafts show, which was held on 9 december. this year I decided to crochet flower pins (like the one ann curry was wearing in the picture earlier in my blog). the freshie hats were a big hit last year, but they were pretty labor-intensive; it took me about three hours to make one hat. I can make a flower pin in less than thirty minutes. so I was able to make forty-five of them. and most of them sold during the two-hour show. I keep seeing them pop up around station -- at least four made appearances on performers' outfits during the women's soiree, which took place the following saturday.

2007-12-21T09:30:00.000+13:00

I'm running on 3.5 hours of sleep. a nap is in order very shortly.

this week has been anything but uneventful. two nights ago, a DC-3 aircraft carrying ten souls departed a remote field camp called mt. patterson. due to some mechanical difficulties, the pilot decided to turn around shortly after takeoff and try to land. the landing damaged the plane, rendering it unfly-able, but amazingly, none of the passengers suffered any serious injuries.

my boss and the NSF representative were summoned by pager shortly thereafter, around 9:30 pm, to a 'war room' of sorts called the EOC - the emergency operations center. the EOC is set up lightning-quick in a conference room normally used for interminable supervisors' meetings and teleconferences, with a bank of telephone lines, radios, key personnel, and a whiteboard. it becomes the command center for dealing with whatever emergency is at hand -- a late check-in by a party traveling off the established roads, an injured hiker, or something like this.

christina, my co-worker, takes the meeting minutes for an EOC callout. the command team determined that she was needed starting at 2:30 am. she got up, reported to the EOC, and started taking notes.

by the time I got to work yesterday morning, david and terry had been up all night and christina had been working since 2:30 am.

the passengers were eventually pulled out yesterday afternoon using two smaller Twin Otter aircraft, brought to mcmurdo, and evaluated for emotional, mental and physical soundness. some were sent north on the C-17 this morning, and one reportedly has an injured ankle, but word is that all fared amazingly well for having just crash-landed in an aircraft that is over sixty years old.

that was yesterday. last night, delaney and I reported to Hut 10, a small building used to house distinguished visitors and that is available to 'rent' per night the rest of the season by anyone with a $50 deposit. Hut 10 is a popular spot to host parties or dinners or sleepovers, especially on weekends, because it contains a stereo system, a large-screen TV, three bedrooms, and -- most importantly -- a functioning kitchen. because all our meals at mcmurdo are prepared by the galley staff and cooking in dorm rooms is forbidden, many people rent Hut 10 simply to prepare meals, bake cookies, or host parties -- in short, to feel somewhat human again -- which is a nice escape from the ordinary in a town that resembles a cross between a mining camp on the moon and a beer-scented college campus.

delaney's roommate matt is the sous chef for the long duration balloon (LDB) complex, a field camp about thirty minutes from mcmurdo that exists to help a large and disparate group of scientists launch huge plastic balloons into the atmosphere to collect weather and atmospheric data. matt has thursdays off, so as a christmas present to me and delaney, he offered to cook us a real meal at Hut 10 last night.

we showed up at 6:00 pm to tantalizing smells wafting out of the kitchen, an open bottle of pinot on the dining table, and james taylor and moby on the sound system. we knew matt had spent the day preparing a lavish five-course meal, but we had no idea what was on the menu -- except for the fact that it would not contain mushrooms (per my request).

check this out.

first course: a buttery, perfect avocado half sprinkled with gray sea salt from matt's own stash, cracked black pepper, and minced parsley and adorned with a lemon wedge. I've never tasted anything so amazing. (keep in mind that we go for days, sometimes weeks, without freshies -- even during the summer season -- and the winter-overs can go for months. matt had appropriated these freshies through his galley connections, and I only felt guilty for a second -- then I was too busy eating.)

soup course: cream of cauliflower soup drizzled with white truffle oil (also from matt's personal larder) and handmade croutons. we tore into this before we could get a proper photo, but trust me, it was real pretty until we demolished it.

pasta course: fresh angel hair pasta made from semolina flour matt had brought down himself, and hand-cranked through a pasta machine he had sent ahead of him. served over roasted eggplant and asparagus and topped with a shaving of creamy emmenthaler. heavenly.

entree: pan-seared sea scallops over melted leeks, pan-fried potato cakes, and steamed green beans, and finished with a yellow pepper coulis. almost -- but not quite -- too pretty to eat. the scallops, despite being the only frozen ingredient in the entire dish, were tender and sweet and melted in the mouth.

dessert: homemade orange-zest shortbread in an apple, pear, and blueberry compote. at this point I was too full to breathe or think, but somehow found room to put most of the dessert away.

went to bed at around 11:00 pm. got up with my alarm at 2:30 am to check the ETA for the C-17 that had launched at 2100 from christchurch. yup, according to the flight info scroll, it had landed at 0237. I got dressed and headed down to the chalet, expecting to host an arrival brief at about 0330 and go back to bed. unfortunately, I wasn't counting on ivan the terrabus getting stuck in the snow halfway back to mcmurdo, containing the 45 or so pax that were headed to the chalet. two smaller vehicles had to be dispatched to rescue the pax while fleet ops labored mightily to dislodge ivan. at 5:15, the last of the pax straggled through the door and we started the arrival brief.

I finished up at 6:00 am, had breakfast, changed into my ECW gear for my santa flight, and came back to work, only to find that my santa-and-elf helo flight has been cancelled for the day due to weather. it's not terribly stormy out, just breezy and overcast and threatening to snow. we'll see if it's on for tomorrow. right now, I'm headed back to bed.

2007-12-15T12:38:00.000+13:00

the holidaze are upon us.

this is how I spent the night before thanksgiving: emitting roughly three gallons of sweat at the Berg Field Center (BFC) party. the theme was cheesy 1980s. the music was awesome. the air was sultry. the costumes were tacky. (think day-glo, ripped sweatshirts, leg warmers, members only jackets, side ponytails, tight-rolled jeans, and eye shadow.)

thanksgiving dinner this season was a lovely affair as usual. here I am with delaney and jared. not sure what exactly was going through my mind at the moment, but I seem to be mulling it over carefully.

my co-worker christina had a surprise birthday party on november 14, thrown by her scheming boyfriend bryan. I love christina. she's my personal trainer, relationship coach, common-sense sounding board, and cat herder rolled into one ridiculously fit body. watching her play volleyball is like listening to 'hitch a ride' by boston or eating nine flavor beef at lee's asian restaurant in west seattle: pure perfection.

here's my other lovely co-worker myrna and me at thanksgiving dinner. myrna is one of those people I never, ever have to worry about. she's a self-contained dynamo who can assist dozens of grantees at a time with redeployment travel arrangements, donate a gazillion grains of rice every week to the UN Food Program at www.freerice.com, and still find the time to assist with the christmas choir or create lovely centerpieces for the holiday tables in the galley. we've been sitting four feet away from each other for months and haven't tired of it yet.

thanksgiving, it seems, was just yesterday. and christmas is a week and a half away.

I've somehow found myself in the position of holiday choir coordinator this season. as of a couple of weeks ago, no one had stepped forward to take up the reins, so my friend martin convinced me to jump in. having been involved with (and emotionally scarred by) the choir effort two seasons ago made me a bit wary, but the response has been more than enough to assure me that it was the right move -- lots and lots of people who love to sing have showed up at rehearsal, and have tackled the old favorites with gusto.

we're holding regular practices and are slated to perform in at least two venues over the long holiday weekend: the heavy shop party and caroling at mac ops. I alluded to these two years ago during my first season on the ice. the heavy shop hosts the big bash of the season, for which they degrease the floors, put up decorations, clear a space for dancing, set up a snowmobile on which guests can pose for pictures with santa, and load tables with all kinds of delectable goodies. there are usually one or two fistfights during the course of the evening, to make things interesting. always a good time. and caroling at mac ops to the field camps and south pole over the radio, and hearing them sing back, is enough to make even sometimes-scroogy me feel the holiday spirit.

one thing that will definitely help to put me in the holiday spirit is the fact that I have been selected, with five others, to be a santa's elf this season. every christmas the NSF representative dresses up as santa, takes half a dozen people from the community as his elves, and flies out to the field camps in a helicopter to deliver gifts and holiday cheer. my co-worker christina coordinates the selection process, in which supervisors nominate their employees for the honor, and the final decision is made by the NSF rep. I was informed three days ago that christina and david (my boss) were in cahoots to get me on the list. I'm still in shock. weather permitting, we'll go next thursday or friday. one of the destinations is the dry valleys, a specially protected area of great environmental interest, that receives almost no moisture or precipitation of any kind. this, coupled with extremely low temperatures and relatively high salt accumulation, produces a unique ecosystem in which scientists can research geological formations and processes in a virtually untouched setting.

off to lunch. some sort of lentil loaf is on the menu. I believe I'll be visiting the sandwich bar.

elfin love,
cindy

2007-11-17T12:25:00.000+13:00

all in a day's work.

I went on my first helicopter ride on thursday.

support forces antarctica (SFA), the joint military command that assists the USAP with cargo airlift logistics, was hosting two DVs (distinguished visitors) this week -- a couple of major (two-star) generals. as part of their visit, they were scheduled to visit the kiwi base, south pole station...and the historic huts of the ross island region -- robert falcon scott's discovery hut (just down the road from mcmurdo), his cape evans terra nova hut, and ernest shackleton's nimrod hut at cape royds. cape evans and cape royds are accessible by mattrack, delta, snowmobile, or helicopter. DVs get to go by helicopter. I, as a trained hut guide, got to go along for the ride.

we met up at the helicopter pax terminal at 1215 on thursday. off-deck was scheduled for 1300. in addition to the two DV generals, there were a major and two colonels acting as their handlers -- all wearing olive-green flight suits under their windpants and parkas. (the military parkas are made by the same company that makes Big Red -- but theirs are Big Olive.) the two DVs, who asked me to call them al and fred, were shortish, older men, very uncle-like and friendly. fred in particular was a real cutie pie. they were based out of hickam AFB in honolulu, so we talked a bit about hawaii and about their recent visits to iraq. they were excited to be in antarctica and had been having a great visit so far. my fears about accompanying two stiff, stilted, stuffy, high-and-tight-sporting officers were quickly allayed.

nick, the helitech who would be flying with us, gave us a safety briefing in the terminal. we were to choose helmets from the rack containing rows and rows of them -- sized S thru XL. I suspected that I would be wearing a small, but nick said most people wear an XL -- and he was right. the S was extremely so, the XL snug but not stifling. he showed us how to fasten the chin straps and adjust the microphones. we all took turns standing on the scale in our ECW gear so nick could calculate our weights for the flight load. then nick explained crash positions, how and when to use the radios embedded in the helmets, and how to engage and disengage the four-point safety belts. we would be flying on a Bell A212, better known to those with military experience as a Huey. and it was a gorgeous day, clear and sunny, with minimal wind.

nick introduced us to scott, our pilot. the helitechs and pilots at mcmurdo work for a contractor called PHI - petroleum helicopters, inc. they are known to run an extremely tight operation, and the pilots are some of the best in the business. we need only look out our chalet window on a stormy day to witness them delicately maneuvering a monstrous machine and touching down on a pad about the size of a lunch tray to know that we're in good hands.

we squeezed in and strapped up, nick shut the doors, and scott started up the engines. scott gave us a little heads-up over the radio and we took off. after a brief hesitation, the helicopter rose a few feet off the ground, banked to the left, and shot up and out over the ice runway. mcmurdo got smaller and smaller to our right. I was seated next to one of the generals, fred, and we oohed and ahhed as mount erebus rose up with its plume of steam. we buzzed further and further north, gaining altitude. it was fantastic, a tiny dragonfly-shaped canister containing seven men and excited little me.

fred had a little stuffed Penky the Penguin doll in his backpack. he took it out during the flight and set it up on the windowsill and snapped a photo of it. this impressed me no end and I developed an even bigger platonic crush on him. here's a picture of us in the helicopter.

we landed at cape royds, our first destination, about fifteen minutes later. scott brought us down a few hundred feet from the hut and the ASPA (antarctic specially protected area) containing the adelie penguin rookery, where thousands of the little birds were lounging in the sun, trumpeting and flapping their wings, sitting on their eggs, or running about after each other. skuas circled overhead. we walked out to the volcanic rocks where I had snapped the photo of werner herzog and his cameraman last season to get a closer look at the penguins. they couldn't have cared less that we were there and went about their usual penguiny business.

we could have stood there all day, but our pilot had to fly up to the summit of mt. erebus later in the afternoon, so eventually we made our way to the nimrod hut. this was the base for ernest shackleton's team of 15 men, ten ponies and nine dogs during their run for the south pole in 1908. they only made it to the magnetic south pole. the loss of their final pony, who was pulling a sled packed with food, forced them to turn around when a mere 97 miles from the geographic south pole in order to avoid starvation on the way home. shackleton and two of his men battled dysentery and weather on the way back, but were later rescued and the nimrod sailed north, a little over a year since it had first landed at royds, with all souls safely aboard.

after the guys had their fill of snapping pictures and examining the artifacts left in the hut, we went back out to the helicopter and took off for cape evans. we landed and encountered a small team at the terra nova hut -- folks from the Antarctic Heritage Trust out of NZ, who have been engaged in a several-year project to preserve the huts in the ross island region and the artifacts in them. they were about to break for lunch, but one of the team generously offered to take us through the hut and give us a brief tour. he showed us the stables, where the team had kept the mules and ponies, with bales of chaff still stacked against the walls and horse-sized snowshoes hung from the support beams. outside, he pointed out the huge anchor, half buried, from which the ship had ripped loose with tons of food and other supplies on board, leaving the men to winter with just what they had brought ashore.

to me, the most human and heartbreaking thing about the cape evans hut is some graffito scratched on the inside wall of one of the bunkbeds. it's impossible to see without craning your neck and using a flashlight, but written there by some miserable, frozen, stinky, half-starved crew member is a list entitled Losses to Date. a number of names follow, names of unfortunate fellows who had succumbed to starvation, illness or freezing. the very last name reads 'Shack?' ernest shackleton had not returned from his attempt on the south pole, and was feared lost and therefore dead. (he wasn't.)

on the way back to mcmurdo, the pilot took us up near an icefall at the foot of erebus. the results of massive, snails'-pace scrunchings and smashings of giant slabs of ice and snow were awesome to behold. some days I feel pretty jaded, after two and a half seasons on the ice. things like sunsets, views of the mountains, the endlessly changing weather lose a little bit of their magic. I find myself going through the vicious daily cycle of eat-work-gym-eat-sleep. and then I get to do something ultra-cool like this. and it really wakes me up to the fact that I'm doing something that most people will never, ever get the opportunity to do in their entire lives. and I feel pretty humbled and lucky.

helmety love,
cindy

2007-11-14T10:49:00.000+13:00

package mail joy.

we got 14,000 pounds of package mail yesterday -- there is much rejoicing on station.

one of my three packages was a mailing tube containing a copy of the film poster for Encounters at the End of the Earth. here we are.

and here's the web address of an MSNBC story on ann curry's return to the studio in new york, and an interview about her time on the ice. (for some reason, blogger isn't letting me turn it into a real hyperlink, so you'll have to copy and paste.)

http://allday.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2007/11/12/462133.aspx

and here's a picture of myrna and me at our desks in the chalet.

more soon!

2007-11-14T10:22:00.000+13:00

birds on deck.

because of bad weather most of last week, we've been flying C-17 missions all weekend to try to catch up. a C-17 arrived and departed saturday, carrying the Today Show crew with it north to christchurch. the same aircraft then took off at midnight on saturday and landed at 0500, carrying only cargo and no pax. it went back to christchurch and launched AGAIN at 1500, arriving at mcmurdo 2019 with thirty-three pax on board.

I was grabbing dinner in the galley on sunday night and ran into my friend sharona. she asked what I was up to that evening and I told her I had to work the incoming flight. she mentioned that she and her boyfriend had been talking earlier about how life in the mcmurdo community (really, every community on the continent) revolves around the flight schedule. every intercontinental flight brings either pax, cargo or some combination of the two, and the effect ripples out through the station like shredded carrots in a lime jell-o mold.

as soon as a plane is in the air, a departure message goes out to a select distribution list, containing information on departure and arrival times (to the minute), weight and contents of cargo, names and affiliations of pax, and names and rank of crew members. I take the information in that e-mail and forward it in turn to another distribution list, but not before I change the subject line to Arrival Brief for AZM-019: Dining Hall at 1445 / Meet 'n' Greet at 1530. this lets pertinent parties know where and when to show up to meet their wide-eyed new folks.

the flurry of activity set in motion by an incoming flight affects:

fuelies (who need to be at the airfield to fuel the plane before it takes off again)

cargo handlers (who will be unloading and then loading the plane)

air pax service representatives (who are in charge of the passenger manifests)

loadplanners (who are responsible for tracking every piece of cargo on every flight)

surveyors (who measure the deflection of the sea ice when the aircraft lands on it and bends it out of shape)

aircraft ground equipment personnel (who haul 1,200-pound heating units out to the planes and hook them up to the engines to keep them warm while the planes are on the ground)

firefighters (who are on standby at station 2, the airfield station, in the event of an airplane engine going out or other unlikely snafu)

shuttle drivers (who transport outgoing pax and crew to the apron and pick up incoming pax to bring to town)

chalet staff (who conduct the arrival briefing for incoming pax)

crary lab staff (who prepare office spaces and key cards for incoming grantees)

housing and janitorial staff (who plot dorm room assignments, notify existing roommates, and leave packets of bed linens on beds)

galley employees (who have to plan down to the single individual how many meals to prepare)

all this activity, and probably more, caused by one little airplane.

2007-11-08T11:27:00.000+13:00

chasing ann.

this morning I called ann curry and woke her up so she could take a phone call from the states. she had been out late with the crew and sounded very groggy, but was nonetheless cheery and professional.

later this morning I went over to the coffeehouse, where she was hanging out waiting for word on whether they would fly to the pole today (ultimate answer: still TBD). I had been charged with two small boxes containing gifts from a couple of guys in FEMC -- an erebus crystal from bobby the sheet metal worker, and a silver pendant made by harry the pipefitter, containing a smaller crystal. I gave her the boxes and explained the significance of the erebus crystals -- they are produced by only two volcanoes in the world -- mt. erebus here in antarctica, and mt. kenya in africa -- and their proper nomenclature is anorthoclase crystals. she was very touched and exclaimed over how pretty they were.

I also gave her one of my crocheted flower corsages and she said she would wear it on TV. here's a picture of her in her new finery.

ann and the rest of her crew are stuck here until at least tomorrow, when the first C-17 of the week is scheduled to launch. we don't mind much having them around. her crew is a bunch of cool, laid-back guys that give us little NBC and Today Show gifts and marvel over what a fun, unique place mcmurdo is. check out this GREAT article, written by their sound engineer bobby:

Where'd all the Ph.D's go? Antarctica

Posted: Monday, November 05, 2007 7:39 AM by Jen Brown
Filed Under: Ends of the Earth
(From Bob Lapp, TODAY engineer/audio operator)

We have a saying in the freelance world, “stupid people make us money” and “the dumber they are, the more money we make”. The examples are endless; athletes and dog fighting, racist disc jockeys, the majority of Hollywood under 25 and OJ. You also find that most people you meet want to be famous, by talent or by sheer ignorance, it does not matter, whatever gives them their 15mins of fame. Just take a look at the explosion of “Reality TV”, You Tube, or any of the web based “video garbage cans”, somehow peoples lives will never be complete if they are not part of some massive download, or talked about on cable news.

Michael Jackson paid for my master bathroom remodel and The Enron trial paid my mortgage for 6 months…(tragic yes, but they still make the stupid list for thinking they could get away with it!), and the everyday criminal puts food on my table…..yes it is the moron money train.

Don’t get me wrong, Idiots have been keeping me busy for 20 years and I got two kids to put through college. But I often wonder what happened to all those people who actually paid attention in college? Where are all those selfless folks who wanted to save the world, not own it?

I only had to travel to the bottom of the earth to find them.

The brain drain went to Antarctica. You can’t swing a drunken celebrity and not hit a Ph.D at McMurdo Station. It is not just the folks who are doing the science that have a pedigree, but people with Master degrees are driving the vans, cooking the food and doing the dishes.

These are all the people who ruined the curve for me in science class. When I hoped they would all “drop off the face of the earth”….who knew it would happen? I think the only marginally educated people at McMurdo are on our TV crew. (I speak for myself as only a BA degree holder.) Yes, I think the collective IQ dropped when my feet hit the ice. When these guys name drop, it isn’t “Brangelina”, Speilberg or Streisand, but rather MIT, Harvard and Air Force Academy. I think you have every top 20 university that threw out my application, represented here. These are incredible educated people working on enormously important projects in some really tough conditions. I don’t know what these guys are pulling down a year but I haven’t seen much Prada at the dinner table. I actually think these men and women do this for the betterment of mankind?

I hate to tell them but you’re never getting on “Inside Edition” with that kind of attitude!

All kidding aside, get down to Antarctica and recharge your faith in what mankind can do. This is the place where the frontier spirit is alive and well, and you see the type of drive, determination and grit that once made all of us proud to be an American. (Please insert, Kiwi, Aussie, Brit, Italian and other where applicable)

There are three undeniable truths about my trip to Antarctica:
1. These are some of the finest people I have had the privilege to work around.
2. None of these people will make it on TMZ.COM
3. I couldn’t make a dime in TV at McMurdo.

here's the link to the article on the Today Show's blog:

http://allday.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2007/11/05/447798.aspx

and this, from their wrangler and POC, a guy named peter, who is obviously impressed with the treatment and reception they got from the mcmurdo community this week:

Not to trivialize, but as I said last night (actually early this morning) it's a heck of a world we live in when someone in Greenland or Ecuador can dance in real time on national TV to a band playing on the Chalet deck in McMurdo.

Much more importantly, in the context of public awareness of the International Polar Year and NSF's / Raytheon's mission in Antarctica, this is a "slam-dunk", "a home-run," choose your metaphor for excellence.

I never, at any time, encountered a single moment's hesitation on anyone's part to do what I asked them to do (no matter how seemingly absurd the task) from the creating a breakfast plate in the galley to enduring blasting cold in the Chalet offices to make the Nightly News live shot a success, to the folks in Crary who cobbled together a weather station -- and this goes without saying in the television business -- on short notice.

And without the support of Joe and his team on phones and networking, this could have easily been as big a PR bust as a boon.

Speaking from personal experience, it is easy to say in an office at NSF: "Wouldn't it be great to be part of a global broadcast." It's quite another to actually make it work.

I will not take a chance and name names too many names for fear of accidentally forgetting someone who played a key role; but I will say that it is not possible to thank the community enough.

I was also very personally satisfied--and I strongly hope that this was a result of a bug or two dropped in key ears--that in addition to focusing on the science that drives the mission, the producers and "talent" saw fit to include the community in the broadcast as so many expected...and surely deserved.

Words fail me. I am proud and exceedingly fortunate to be a small part of something--and I don't limit this to this broadcast specifically--so very, very fine.

peter and his group had pretty much taken over our offices for a couple of days, since the filming you saw on the Today Show and the Nightly News took place on our deck. the chalet was full of cables, boxes of sound and video equipment, fancy monitors and mics. they were very apologetic about all the stuff they'd strewn everywhere, which was nice of them, and we in turn made an effort to make them feel at home too. the reference to the 'blasting cold in the Chalet offices' in his e-mail was because the doorway to the deck was so full of cables being run through it it wouldn't close properly and cold air was coming into the room where myrna and I sit. I was there, eating a tuna-fish sandwich I'd picked up from the galley, and peter (knowing I'd just gotten over the flu) told me to go into his temporary office in the back of the chalet to eat so I wouldn't have a relapse.

the weather has been absolute crap this week. hardly any flights north- or southbound. a herc containing 39 pax took off for pole this past monday, circled and attempted several landings, and ultimately had to boomerang back to mcmurdo -- but not before fully half of the passengers had gotten airsick. people were puking in their GoPicnic box lunches and in their hats. there were jokes about cleaning the aircraft out with a fire hose.

but I'm influenza-free, and everything's pretty great!
more soon.

low visibility love,
cindy

2007-11-03T12:22:00.000+13:00

rosie lives.

as promised.

here's another pic, of me and my friend skippy. skippy is a pal of my ice sistah amber, who is in grad school this season and not on the ice *sniff*. skippy is an operations GA (general assistant), which means that he's on the bottom rung of the pay scale and has to shovel lots of snow, but gets to go all kinds of cool places in order to do the shoveling. he's already spent a couple of weeks out at WAIS (western antarctic ice sheet). lucky guy!

and here's a picture of rosie herself, in all her WWII-era glory. I love rosie because even though she's a badass mama jama working in a munitions factory, she obviously cares enough about her appearance to apply false eyelashes before heading to her job. we can do it indeed!

2007-11-01T15:35:00.000+13:00

broadcast times

monday, 5 november, Today Show
tuesday, 6 november, Today Show
tuesday, 6 november, NBC Nightly News

all dates are US, not NZ.

turn on that Tivo and enjoy!

quarantine love,
chalet cindy

2007-10-30T12:14:00.000+13:00

licking doorknobs: a big no-no.

this blog entry is being written from my bed. yesterday I tested positive for not one, but two strains of the flu: types A AND B. in spite of the fact that I diligently submitted my upper right arm for a flu shot two weeks ago, the shot only provides about 70% coverage in the face of the onslaught -- which this season is considerable. there are reportedly five strains of influenza in NZ alone, and the shot protects only against three of them.

in a community as small, interdependent and insular as mcmurdo, public health is everyone's concern. we are urged from well before we step foot onto the continent to wash our hands, use hand sanitizer, report to medical at the first sign of sickness for treatment, and so on. this season the flu has been sweeping through our ranks, decimating (or at least adversely affecting) every department from Logistics to Science Support to Station Services...and now, Area Directorate (where I work). folks have been holed up in their dorm rooms for five or six days, under pain of death (or at least a brisk scolding) if they dare emerge to so much as get their own food from the galley or check their e-mails at the computer kiosk. last night I thought I could sneak inconspicuously downstairs to return my tray and dishes to the dish window. as I was scraping leftovers into the food waste bin, I turned and saw Doc Harry, the kindly, white-haired, portly lead physician, storming his way up the stairs toward me. you're supposed to be in quarantine, young lady, he said. that means you do not leave your room.

oh, the guilt! I slunk back upstairs with my tail between my pajama'd legs.

so, I am confined to my room for the next couple of days, hacking and coughing and generally evoking lots of sympathy. friends must bring me my meals, and whatever work I want to accomplish has to be done on a loaner laptop from IT with the magic of dial-up internet (which is a privilege doled out to a few supervisors and managers so they can access their MS Outlook accounts and the network drives from their dorm rooms, and which, as you can see, I am taking full advantage of for the purpose of updating my blog). yesterday I watched movies and knitted. friends stopped by to wish me well or drop off treats. right now I'm waiting for keith and zach, two cook friends, to bring me a big pot of chicken soup that they're making on the sly in the kitchen.

the flu test itself was like medieval torture. first, the lab tech, a no-nonsense, squat middle-aged woman named sherry, swabbed the back of my throat with one of those long Q-tips, which always makes me want to yak. I came THIS close to barfing all over her no-nonsense bosom. and then -- oh the horror! it makes me want to weep just to recall it -- she took another Q-tip and shoved it all the way up each nostril and swabbed it around somewhere in my brain cavity. I swear it was like she was probing the back of my eyeballs. invasive! disgusting! painful! getting my nose pierced by a large, completely tattooed man in capitol hill was less traumatic.

but the test yields near-instant results. five minutes later, the flight surgeon walked in and pronounced me positive for -- impressively -- strains A and B. which is something, in all of sherry's years of being a lab tech, she had never seen before -- until this season at mcmurdo.

the biggest disappointment with this downturn of events is that today Ann Curry and the crew of the Today Show arrive at mcmurdo. they are in the air somewhere between NZ and here on a C-17 as I type, and are scheduled to touch down at 1357. they have been filming their adventures in NZ, which we only know from watching www.msnbc.com (we don't get NBC or any other network channel down here), and they are to be let off the plane first at the ice runway in order to film the pax emerging. they will certainly also film the arrival brief, which falls within my normal course of duties to organize and run -- but today, my co-worker melanie will have to conduct the brief, as me exhaling virus particles in a room full of people -- namely, the Dining Hall, and bigwigs such as Ms. Curry & Co. -- would certainly bode disaster. I can just see the headlines now --

Today Show's Ann Curry Sickened by Exposure to Influenza Type A and B

"I didn't realize how contagious I was," explained the McMurdo staff member who has been pinpointed as the station's Typhoid Mary, whose name is not being released. "I wanted to appear on the Today Show, even in a marginal capacity, and I recklessly endangered these high-profile, really nice visitors to our corner of Antarctica by turning a routine briefing into a festering hotbed of morbidity."

people have been emailing me from the states, wanting to know when the antarctica segments are going to air on the show. to tell you the truth, anyone back home with a TV is going to be far more in the loop than we are. I would suggest watching the show itself for details of the upcoming broadcasts, probably every day from now until the 9th when they depart for NZ. but if I get any info on this end, I will most certainly post it here as well. the current plan is for them to fly to pole on the 1st (the 31st for you all) but to be back in time to broadcast live from here on the 5th or 6th, and return to NZ on the 9th.

here's the current posting from the Today Show website:

http://allday.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2007/10/29/436528.aspx

I started feeling achy and a bit feverish this past saturday at the seasonal halloween party, where I was dressed as Rosie the Riveter and circulating amongst hundreds of other people drinking cheap NZ beer and taking pictures of each other. my costume, which I had planned and executed with razor-sharp focus, included a denim work shirt with campaign pins attached to the collar and a red-and-white nametag reading 'rosie' above the left chest pocket; brown work pants borrowed from a female carpenter; brown work boots borrowed from a friend who enjoys diving the skua bins; a black thermos lunchbox I had picked up in a value village in seattle; a red headkerchief borrowed from keith the cook; and an actual handheld riveter on loan from a friend who works in the heavy shop. rosie was a big hit. I walked around pretending to rivet people and flexing my considerable biceps, on which had been drawn with a sharpie a stylized american flag and a bald eagle.

well, back to coughing and hacking. pics coming as soon as I'm back at a computer that has a connection fast enough to upload them.

2007-10-22T12:18:00.000+13:00

in the interest of keeping up foreign relations...

one of my job duties is to make sure that a set of twelve flags is flown every weekend off the chalet deck. the countries represented by these flags are the twelve original signatories to the antarctic treaty:

argentina
australia
belgium
chile
france
japan
new zealand
norway
russia
south africa
united kingdom
usa

the flags are usually flown over the weekend, so that folks can take advantage for photo ops, and taken down on monday morning so as to save them as much as possible from fraying in the whippy antarctic wind.

on some summer days, taking the flags down or putting them up is a pleasure. I get to be outside in the fresh air, with the whup-whup-whup of helicopter rotors coming from the helo pad below and planes coming and going off the ice runway. and then there are days like today, when mcmurdo is fading in and out of condition I, the winds have us at -15F and I can barely see crary lab next door. after a couple of minutes, I can't feel my fingers, and I can only take two or three flags down at a time before I have to come in and defrost my face.

here's a screen shot of the latest flight schedule, with multiple weather-related delays:

we have a bunch of polies stuck in mcmurdo waiting to head to the south pole. these poor people are chomping at the bit to get down there and start their turnover with the outgoing winter folks. but we're at the mercy of momma nature for the time being.

I can't believe it's the last week of october. this saturday is the big halloween bash in the gym. I'm gathering the last bits of my halloween costume, begging, borrowing and stealing from friends to complete the look. this time next week I'll have photos of the halloween debacle.

off to lunch, which today is pizza -- happiness!

2007-10-20T12:47:00.000+13:00

getting (re)schooled.

this morning I attended light vehicle training, a prerequisite for anyone who needs to drive one of the fleet of ford vans and trucks for work here. the chalet has a red pickup parked out front, and we're allowed to use it to go to the food room to pick up boxes of vittles or haul stuff to the dorms. myrna, christina and I have also been known to take it over to scott base on 'official' USAP business, which of course usually includes a trip to their gift shop.

it's been a couple of years since I was a shuttle driver and spending ten hours a day behind the wheel, so a refresher course was well in order. it covered basic safety things like wearing seat belts, sticking to the 15-mph speed limit in town, maneuvering around groups of red-parka-clad pedestrians, and not opening the door into a high wind. it also covers antarctica-specific goodies such as how to drive on a packed-snow road (key words: slowly and 4WD), giving way to heavy equipment like loaders and cranes, how to brake on a gravelly volcanic-soil slope (the mico brake is your friend), sitting out blizzards while stuck in the vehicle, and how to avoid embarrassing gaffes like driving away while the engine heater is still plugged into the building or driving over your chock.

a fellow shuttle driver and I commiserated after that first season about having to re-learn how to drive in the states. we had tremendous urges to honk twice before backing up and to wave at everyone we passed on foot, and were scared witless to go faster than about 30 mph.

here's a picture of our VMF - vehicle maintenance facility, known in local parlance as the heavy shop. this is the facility that fixes and maintains all vehicles on station, from ivan the terrabus to the tiniest little golf-cart. at christmastime, the heavy shop hosts a holiday shindig, where people eat fancy hors d'oeuvres, dance to live music, watch a slide show of pictures of peoples' families and pets sent from home, and pose for snapshots with santa claus atop a skidoo snowmobile.

speaking of posing for pictures, last week my niece Tate took her first school photos. the photographer had come to the preschool armed with a box of toys for the kids to hold in the pictures. most of the girls picked Hello Kitty, Barbie, or Dora the Explorer dolls. not Tate. she insisted on carrying a helicopter.

my sister tells me that one night while putting her down for the night, Tate asked mommy to go back to the dining room and put away the CandyLand game they'd been playing earlier. when my sister said she would do it later, Tate insisted she do it immediately -- because she didn't want the ants to get to it.

Tate has learned how to say the pledge of allegiance at preschool. my sister took her to grandpa garcia's grave (steve's dad, who died before Tate was born). they laid some flowers, and Tate proceeded to perform the pledge of allegiance at the gravesite. at which point she stood still, listened, and said, "I think he's clapping."

okay, back to work. problem du jour: finding office spaces for transient south pole management, technical event personnel, and sundry grantees in the two buildings controlled by the chalet. here's the spreadsheet I use to plot this joyous task.

vroom vroom,
chalet cindy

2007-10-16T11:34:00.000+13:00

up, up and away...in my beautiful balloon...

here are a couple of pics of me in the cockpit of the C-17, en route from christchurch to mcmurdo on the 6th.

the crew chief was a local boy from kauai!

2007-10-11T18:30:00.000+13:00

a revolution in the girl world.

so. unbeknownst to most people I encounter, I've been wearing a little rubber accoutrement somewhere on my person for the last couple of days. you can't see it. it set me back about thirty bucks. and it's a little early to tell, but this tiny device may turn out to be life- (and planet-) changing. it's called The Keeper.

I first heard about The Keeper last season on the ice. a flier went up in the girls' restrooms on station that erin p., a recreation coordinator, was going to give a talk on a new kind of feminine hygiene product. the name of the talk was 'A New Surfboard for the Crimson Wave.' (oh - hey - guys, if you're the type that likes to leave the room when girls start talking about their periods, you may want to wait for the next blog entry. although being knowledgeable about womens' bodies and what happens to them between puberty and menopause is actually a good thing, especially if you plan on ever having a girlfriend or wife.)

so, intrigued, I went to the talk. erin is possibly the world's peppiest person. she's about as tall as I am, with curly blond hair and a megawatt smile, and has the energy of a hummingbird on speed. she gave the talk in the back room of the coffeehouse, where there are comfy chairs and sofas, and there were about fifteen girls gathered in them, waiting to hear what she had to say about this new surfboard.

she started out by saying that decades and decades of women using traditional feminine hygiene products has caused tons and tons of decaying garbage in landfills around the world. in addition, some of those products cause health problems -- toxic shock syndrome, anyone? but for several years now, she's been using something different, something that doesn't produce the same amount of waste, that pays for itself after a couple of months, and is easy and convenient to use and carry. it's called the Keeper.

the Keeper, as she explained, is a simple device -- a rubber or silicone menstrual cup -- that looks like a little funnel. it is designed to catch, not absorb, menstrual fluid, thereby eliminating the need for tampons or pads. instead of being thrown away like other kinds of feminine hygiene products (or FHPs, as I refer to them), it is simply emptied, cleaned and re-used -- for up to ten years if cared for properly. it's great for the environment. but not only that, it's great for active girls who find leakage to be a problem with traditional FHPs (like me), as it fits snugly under the cervix. AND it's perfect for girls who like to travel (again, like me), especially in foreign or developing countries where finding 'your' brand of FHP is a real problem. (I wish we had known about this when I was in the peace corps in mongolia. russian-made FHPs are sorely lacking in variety and quality.) but the implications, especially in antarctica, where all used FHPs have to be specially handled (because they contain biohazard) and shipped off the continent for disposal, are mind-blowing! instead of producing thousands of pounds of hazardous medical-grade waste, Keeper users can Do Their Part for the earth -- just by substituting this ingenious little cup.

now, if you're the squeamish type (guy OR girl), you may be grossed out by the prospect of handling something that catches blood. yes, it can be a little messy. you ARE dealing with a bodily fluid, and you need to be careful not to get stuff everywhere. I've been using it for a couple of days now, and I admit my expertise could use a little finessing. insertion and removal can be tricky, especially when the Keeper is full. I found this out this morning after wearing it all night. but the wonderful manufacturers of the Keeper suggest in their literature that you take a couple of damp paper towels into the stall with you to clean up any wayward spills, and this advice has proven invaluable. and the more I practice, the more I find that it's really not that hard. to insert: squeeze the top and fold it over on itself, then -- SPROING -- let 'er go! wear it around for a few hours, smiling serenely at the fact that nobody knows you're dealing with your period creatively AND saving the earth at the same time. to remove: well, kind of the opposite of what you did for insertion. empty and wipe. repeat. in between periods, wash with soap and water and store in the cute little calico cloth bag it was shipped to you in.

of course, there are few private bathrooms here on station. in my dorm, I use a bathroom down the hall that has three stalls and four sinks in it, as well as a shower. so I've learned that I need to practice in order to deal with the Keeper silently, as rubbery suction noises could prove extremely disconcerting to the girl in the next stall. I also have nightmares of squeezing the thing and having it shoot out of my fingers, over the wall, and onto the girl in the next toilet. at which point I would probably hear one of three things -- (1) screams of laughter (2) screams of horror or -- the absolute worst possibility -- (3) complete silence.

you can read more about the keeper here:

www.thekeeperstore.com

it's so cool! I've run into a couple of other girls that use it, and all of them say that they can't imagine ever going back to other FHPs. the Keeper is just too convenient, easy, environmentally sound, and cost-effective.

anyway, it's 6:25 pm and I'm still at the chalet. I need to get my butt over to the galley for some dinner. the menu says tonight it's chicken marbella, grilled pork loin, and seitan bouruignonne, whatever the heck that is.

serenely,
cindy