The wind is gusting well over forty knots as I write. Although I’m indoors (obviously), walking between buildings is unpleasant, though not cold. That’s because, unusually for April in Antarctica, the temperature is 4ºC. Precipitation — usually snow — was forecast, but we were treated to a night of heavy rain.
The wind is due to drop off later in the day, then is forecast to vacillate between windy and calm through the week. This kind of forecast has always been my least favourite; the lingering uncertainty of marginal boating weather suspends everything in tedious stasis. We can’t start any big jobs just in case they aren’t finished in time for the next (improbable) weather window, and the frequency of this kind of weather means we’ve done nearly all of the small stuff.
Despite the shortening weather windows, we’re still spending a lot of time afloat. Collecting species for the transport aquarium is currently our top priority. The aquarium (inside a shipping container) leaves Rothera in mid-May on the Sir David Attenborough. Before then, divers have to hand collect a punishingly long list of sub-surface critters, such as urchins, starfish and worms. Once they reach the UK (a long journey on the ship), they’ll be distributed to research institutes for analysis.
That means we’re visiting lots of different dive sites. Many of these are on the local islands, a several minute drive even at high speeds. I really feel the cold by the time we’ve done a thirty minute marine mammal watch (to ensure there aren’t any Leopard Seals or Orca in the area), the divers have gone in twice, and finally got the kit all sorted for the return journey. I bring two sets of gloves (one rated to -30ºC) as well as glove liners and thick socks on every trip nowadays. Despite this, I’m shivering at the end of some of the longer trips.
There are lots of days when we just can’t get out on the water. Usually that’s because of the wind, but increasingly we’re getting significant swell and ice in our launch area. We had enough wave action the other day to throw beer bottle sized blocks of ice into the boat! When that’s the case, I’m usually catching up on maintenance and improvement tasks.
Most of my Saturday was spent patching various knocks and holes in one of our Island RIBs. I find few things more humbling than attempting to neatly patch fibreglass and gelcoat. Especially in Antarctica, trying to maintain the precise conditions for each part of cure properly is a real challenge — one made considerably more frustrating by repeated power cuts shutting down the boatshed’s heater. Antarctica works hard to kill perfectionist inclinations, meaning that most repairs are completed in a ‘good enough’ state, far short of most professional jobs.
I’ve also had a run of splicing days. One of the mooring lines for the Sir David Attenborough needed work doing on two worn-through sections. Before coming to Rothera, I’d never touched a line that large, and in honesty, though splicing it was pretty novel, I won’t be devastated if I never have to do it again. Getting the working strands lost on eight strand is incredibly depressing, and fighting my way through rope twice the width of my arm has given me mild tennis elbow (splicer’s elbow?). It’s an invisible battle scar I’ll wear with pride for the next week or so.
Anyway… apart from the more dynamic weather, life remains very much the same as ever. An abundance of whales remain in Ryder Bay, now with Minkes and at least one Humpback calf in the mix. Somewhere between thirty and sixty Orca were seen recently seeming to trouble a group of humpbacks. I understand that this isn’t normal — certainly I have only ever seen groups of a dozen or so previously. Most days, avoiding the whales in the boats is like dodging the cracks on a pavement.
In under a week I’ll be away on my winter trip. As ever, we’ll be beholden to the Antarctic weather, but if all goes to plan, it’ll be a great opportunity to get off station, see some mountains and (hopefully) explore some crevasses. I’m not sure what’s scarier: abseiling down a crevasses, getting stuck in a tent for a week, or having no WiFi…
Fantastic words & images, thanks again Ollie. Splicing mooring lines sounds like a forfeit...
Enjoy your winter trip. I suspect you won't miss the WiFi.