Santa Claus and the Bull…

Santa Claus in front of Neumayer III
Weihnachtsmann2

Hello, everyone!

First of all, a big thank-you goes to Ina for her great blog entry on “A day as a geophysicist at the Neumayer III station”. December is now nearly over, and we have news from the southern tip of the world for you … (though, given the holidays and vacation, our colleagues back home probably won’t post the entry until early January).

In late November, and a bit later than expected, a little Basler BT-67 stopped by on its way to Novo. But once it had refuelled, the weather conditions deteriorated, which meant it couldn’t continue on as planned. Instead, we hosted the crew (three Canadians) in an orange housing container at the edge of the airstrip for two days.

Forschungsflugzeug Basler
The freshly landed Basler in the midnight sun, together with the orange housing container near the airstrip (Klaus Guba)

After they got out of the plane, greeting the Canadian crew – in facemasks, at a safe distance, and in English – was quite an experience. They were the first new faces we’d seen in months … but thanks to the masks we only had a vague impression of what our guests actually looked like. After that, our contact with the crew was limited to talking with them over the radio in the housing container. Our chef Wanderson cooked them meals, but had to place the food at the front door of the container and leave before the crew could bring it inside. All in all, it was a very strange feeling for us, after nine months in isolation. Since then, no more aircraft have landed to refuel … we’re on our own again. Most likely our next contact with the outside world won’t be until 19 January, when the Polarstern reaches the ice shelf in Atka Bay. The ship’s crew, and the researchers and technicians on board, began individual quarantine on 12 December before departing from Bremerhaven on 20 December, bound for Antarctica … and despite the first coronavirus infections on the Antarctic Peninsula being reported on 20 December, thanks to the measures put in place by the AWI, we feel safe and ready for any new developments.

In early December we had fierce snowstorms with wind speeds up to 75 knots, so once again, the station began swaying and groaning under the strain. And once again large snowdrifts, so-called sastrugi, formed near the station, and our airstrip, which Mario had done such a great job of preparing, could only be recognised by the bamboo poles marking the strip every hundred metres on both sides. Antarctica showed its harsh side in full force, and the preparations for the new season, which we had already begun, were all undone.

The white dot represents Neumayer III; the darker the colour, the higher the wind speed …Klaus Guba)

Between the storm fronts there were always a few days of improved weather, which gave us a chance to take care of pressing tasks like repairing our antennas, clearing away snow, etc. On these days we were able to refill the snowmelt, and everyone did their laundry. With storm fronts that can take several days to pass over, in Antarctica we have to use our water sparingly …

Then, from 10 December, the summer began – the Polar Day, with 24-hour daylight, definitely has its charms. The storm petrels began soaring over the station for hours every night in the evening sun, performing the most amazing aerobatic manoeuvres. It almost seemed to me like the manoeuvres were part of their mating ritual. And they’re very curious, too. Once, when I went to inspect the airstrip, a petrel was my constant companion, flying around me for half an hour and getting within just two metres of me. Most likely it wanted to challenge me to a flying contest … but I made sure to keep my feet planted firmly on the ground …

Buntfuß-Sturmschwalbe
Storm petrel (Klaus Guba)

What’s more, we began increasingly seeing individual penguins roaming near the station; on this particular day, one was very interested in the airstrip …

Penguin inspecting the airstrip (Klaus Guba)
Pinguinküken bei Gewächshaus EDEN-
Penguin chicks near EDEN (taken from a safe distance with a telephoto lens) (Klaus Guba)

Finally we could work outside again. And there was plenty to do … like clearing away snowdrifts; using the snowcat to dig out containers and move them from the winter camp five kilometres away, to the summer camp (500 metres west of the station); preparing empty sledges for the planned unloading of cargo from the Polarstern in late January; and jacking up the monitoring stations that had sunk into the ice …

Containers at the winter camp, drifted over (Klaus Guba)
Zugedriftete Kabause im Winterlager
Emergency shelter at the winter camp, drifted over (Klaus Guba)
Sledge with snow-digging equipment (Klaus Guba)
Shovelling snow in the name of science (Klaus Guba)
Digging out the entrance to the library in the ice (Klaus Guba)

Moreover, I could finally mark our three trails – to the penguin ramp, sea-ice ramp and northern shore – with new bamboo flags … they add up to ca. 38 kilometres of ‘road’, with a hole for the flag being drilled into the ice every 100 metres. But as a trauma surgeon, I don’t mind a bit of drilling … and then working outside all day at a pleasant minus 5 degrees, sometimes with beautiful sunshine, with the chance to observe and enjoy the icy landscape, complete with local fauna … those are the days I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. One-of-a kind days … days where everything seems easy, out in the crisp air, surrounded by glittering ice and snow. Days where the smell of the sun blocker makes you think of vacation on the beach …

Flag container at the winter camp (Klaus Guba)
Loading up bamboo canes (Klaus Guba)
Flagging the trails (Klaus Guba)

Thanks to the work, the time passed quickly; Saint Nicholas Day seemed to just fly by, and Christmas was soon drawing near. While I was busy preparing our official and unofficial Christmas greetings to the rest of the world and gave a few over-the-phone interviews on “how we celebrate Christmas at Neumayer III”, Wanderson was hard at work on the Christmas supper. Some of our colleagues took care of the Christmas decorations, while others baked cookies.

Table for St Nicholas Day (Noah Trumpik)
Making Christmas stars (Noah Trumpik)
Christmas tree in the Antarctic snow (Noah Trumpik)
The Christmas tree is on its way (Noah Trumpik)

On our house music night, we rehearsed a few Christmas songs (including the classic “Silent Night, Holy Night”, but also some with a bit more kick).

 

On one cloudless night, after our work was done we had a photo session with Santa Claus, an elk (that looks more like a bull but feels like an elk when you touch it, and is actually meant to be a reindeer), two elves, a photographer, plenty of props, and a host of birds that circled above, very curious about what we were up to …

Santa Claus 1 (Anna-Marie Jörss)
Santa Claus 2 (Anna-Marie Jörss)
Santa Claus 3 (Anna-Marie Jörss)
Santa Claus with storm petrel (Anna-Marie Jörss)
Christmas elves (Anna-Marie Jörss)
German Christmas greetings (in engl. “Merry Christmas and a happy New Year from the overwintering team 20/21 at the Neumayer Station III”) (Anna-Marie Jörss)

On 20 December we got the news that the Polarstern had just weighed anchor in Bremerhaven and was on her way to us: yet another step toward the ‘end of the overwintering’ … with mixed feelings. On the one hand, I was looking forward to seeing my family and friends in Germany; on the other, I could already sense how I would miss Antarctica and my life at Neumayer III.

On 24 December the time had come: we all tried to keep our workloads to a minimum, and to take a break in the afternoon. To catch our breath, send warm wishes to our families and friends, and to rummage in our closets for our good festive clothes … just like celebrating Christmas back home, but with the tiny difference that our families and friends were roughly 13,500 kilometres away, for the second year in a row. Our Christmas supper was scheduled for 6 pm, and our chef kept the specifics a surprise. Wanderson served us a mouth-watering menu of salad, pureed onion soup with roast cod, a main course of turkey with German-style dumplings and red cabbage, and a choice of tiramisu or caramel cream for dessert. We also enjoyed fine wines from the crate sent to the Neumayer III every year from Neustadt an der Weinstraße (the German city where Georg von Neumayer spent his final years). After a lovely meal, around 9 pm we all went up on the roof of the station to sing Christmas songs with trumpet accompaniment, in brilliant sunshine. Even though we can always be sure to enjoy a white Christmas here, singing “Silent Night, Holy Night” in the non-stop sunlight of the Polar Day felt a bit strange. Later that evening, there was a brief speech, after which we exchanged and unwrapped small gifts. Though we all made the most of it, you could see in our eyes that some part of us wished we were celebrating with our families …

On 25 December I went on a six-hour sea-ice measurement-gathering trip with Anna and Noah that took us all around Atka Bay. One the one hand, this meant working on Christmas Day; but on the other, it meant a very special Christmas outing. Soon the sea ice will be off limits, because there is normally extensive breakup in the course of January. So these days were most likely our last chance to see the eastern part of the bay again. On the way back, we took care of the readings, then had a short break in the eastern part of the bay and observed a few seals, before heading back to the station along the ice shelf edge on our Skidoos. In the western part of the bay, the shelf’s edge was often softened by drifting snow, but in the eastern and southern parts, it could be seen in all its glory as a sheer wall of ice. We also passed by large icebergs, which were most likely grounded and encircled by the sea ice.

Break time with a seal (Klaus Guba)
Baby seal (Klaus Guba)
Seal panorama (Klaus Guba)
Small family of seals (Klaus Guba)
Ice shelf edge in the east of the bay (Klaus Guba)
Schelfeiskante im Südosten
Ice shelf edge in the southeast of the bay (Klaus Guba)

Finally we drove by a smaller iceberg with a number of blackish-brownish patches below the outer layers of snow and ice. The explanation could be that at some point it tipped over, before flipping upright again; we surmised that the darker patches were parts of the seafloor that had clung to the underside of the iceberg … at least, that’s what seemed most logical to us. We didn’t try to take a closer look … it was too dangerous: too many crevasses nearby, plus I had no desire to be standing on an iceberg when it decided to flip over again …

Iceberg with dark patches (Klaus Guba)

On 26 December Roman, Anna and I went on a ‘digging tour’ in the western part of the bay. On 23 November, Roman had installed a prototype penguin-counting station, where the chipped penguins would automatically be counted every time they crossed over a cable buried in the ground … using basically the same principle as anti-shoplifting gates at department stores. Within the team, we spontaneously dubbed the project the ‘penguin gate’ …

The penguin gate (Klaus Guba)
Pinguine vor Schneemobil
The penguin gate in action (Klaus Guba)

Unfortunately the penguin gate station’s three modules, together with its three solar panels, had been completely buried by the snowstorm in December. Though we’d searched for it intensively with avalanche sensors just before Christmas, we hadn’t had any luck finding the station. This time, Anna tried using her GEM sledge, which she also uses for ice-thickness measurements, to scan the vicinity of the GPS coordinates where the station was deployed. Despite a few difficulties at first, she managed to generally locate the station under the snow, and then used avalanche sensors to find its precise location. After that, it was up to us to dig the station back out of the snow … which took us a loooooooong time (like so many things do in Antarctica). A variety of penguins and skuas looked on with interest while we toiled away. Having retrieved the penguin gate, we loaded it on our sledge and hauled it back to home base … mission accomplished!

Pay dirt! (Roman Ackle)
Digging out the cable (Roman Ackle)
Cable retrieved (Roman Ackle)
Filling the hole back in (Roman Ackle)
Penguins enjoying the show (Klaus Guba)

There was and is plenty of other work to do. Right now we’re doing the spring cleaning in the EDEN greenhouse, and our two technicians, Mario and Andreas, are getting the vehicle pool back in tip-top shape and gathering the return cargo in the garage.

Vehicle pool (Klaus Guba)

On 28 December Noah and I went on another ‘egg hunt’ at the emperor penguin colony for the Umweltbundesamt. We parked our Skidoos ca. 300 metres from the colony, which had since split up into several smaller colonies. Proceeding on foot, we looked for penguin eggs in the snow, which in some patches had been softened by the dark penguin droppings. We were far away from the colony’s current location, at spots we knew the penguins frequently visited … and where, of course, they had also left behind the most droppings. Due to the mild temperatures, the droppings were fairly fragrant … but it was nevertheless a wonderful feeling to see the penguins. The chicks had grown quite large, and some were already moulting, which made them look like little punk rockers with mohawks. And they constantly approached the nearby adult penguins, begging for food with their incessant chirping.

Emperor penguin colony with chicks (taken from a safe distance with a telephoto lens) (Klaus Guba)

Though we didn’t find any eggs on our search just before New Year’s, it was still a great experience. And when we headed back to our Skidoos, we discovered an adult penguin that had been so kind as to keep an eye on them for us …

The parking lot guard (Klaus Guba)

Unfortunately our chance encounter kept us from returning to the station right away, since we had to wait for our curious new friend to leave so we could get to the vehicles. But when it comes to delays like this one, all you can do is smile and be grateful …

And so, now we’re rapidly heading for 2021, while the Polarstern draws closer to us every day. We’re looking forward to seeing her … and, with our Christmas greetings, belatedly wish our blog readers all the best (the photo was taken by Anna-Marie Jörss on 6 October 2020, but it seemed to be a better fit for Christmas than taking one in the sunlight of the Polar Day).

For our families and friends, and for all our blog readers: have a Happy New Year; we wish you a happy and healthy 2021 …

 

Readers comments (4)

  1. Ola Eriksson

    Just found your blog.

    Fun to read about your overwintering and se all the nice pictures!

    Best wishes from Ola Eriksson, Swedish Polar Research, visited Neumayer last christmas :) (and 2016/17)

    1. Klaus Guba

      Hello Ola,
      I´m very pleased to read your comment. This year it was a very quiet Christmas party. Hope to see you again somewhere and sometime.
      Best wishes,
      Klaus

  2. Shmuel Rubens

    how fascinating, and how important is your mission.
    happy new year and thanks for the sharing.
    especially I liked the photo of the ever lasting DC3 Dakota service airplane, and the wonderful AWI crew, and of course the Pinguine.

  3. Carol Woodhouse

    Really enjoyed reading your blog and seeing the pictures. It must be a wonderful experience to spend the ‘winter months’ in Antarctica.

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