Hello, everyone! I’m Linda, the atmospheric chemist for the 41st overwintering at the Neumayer Station III. Just as a few of my fellow overwinterers have already shared glimpses into the work they do, I’d like to give you readers an impression of the world of atmospheric chemistry here at the station.
I’m mainly responsible for the air chemistry observatory (Spurenstoff-Observatorium), which we call the “spuso” for short. At the spuso, we measure various components of the Antarctic air with the aid of filters, particle counters, spectrometers and other methods. Valuable data that can tell us more about, say, aerosols, greenhouse gases, trace elements and how they change over time is gathered there round the clock. This data is very important, for climate analyses for example, and I’m responsible for managing it. In other words, I change the filters, gather samples, document results and make sure that everything is running smoothly – and if something isn’t, I fix it. Glaciological measurements are also part of my work. Here we have the “snow-depth fields”, which I can use to measure how much snowfall we have in the course of a year. I also assess the snow density and take samples of the fresh snow. All the data I gather is then analysed by researchers back in Germany, which gives us the opportunity to understand our world a little bit better.
The spuso is located 1.5 km south of the Neumayer Station III. That means my daily commute takes me through a bit of the Antarctic, which has so many different sides to it. I never would never dreamed that snow and ice could take on so many different forms. In theory, there’s really not much to see: a hand line leads from the station to the spuso, which can be very helpful for orientation in a storm, and from time to time I see a wild animal or two. Sometimes penguins cross my path or, in summer, birds fly above my head, capering in the turbulences that I make in the wind. But even the surface of the snow and the sky can offer a veritable natural spectacle. When the sun shines, the snow sparkles like a tapestry of diamonds; if there’s a light breeze, the snow drifts low over the ground, making you feel like you’re walking on clouds. If the wind really kicks up, there’s so much snow in the air that all you can see is white all around you; hence the term “white-out conditions”. If it happens to be dark at the same time, you can’t even see your hand in front of your face; that’s when you appreciate having the hand line for guidance.
Video: Snow whipping over the face of the spuso (Linda Ort)
Thanks to the wind, the surface of the snow is ever-changing. Drifts can be created by something as small as a boot print and constantly form new and fascinating structures and patterns. At dusk, everything is bathed in pastel shades and, if the cloud conditions are right, you can see beautiful optical phenomena like halos, sun dogs or sun pillars. Every sunset looks like a painting and on clear nights, you can see an endless sea of stars, spanning to just above the horizon. On nights like that, I always feel like I’m in a planetarium, but I know it’s the real sky above me. On days with no wind it’s so quiet you can hear your own heartbeat, while on stormy days you have to watch out that your pockets don’t all fill with snow.
As you can see, every day I get to see a different facet of the Antarctic, and I’m just as fascinated now as the first time I walked to the spuso. And once I have my wonderful commute behind me, I make a nice, hot tea and get down to work.
