Antarctica

by Kristen Green, Ichthyology Lab

I’m adjusting to this new and strange reality in Antarctica, and luckily we have been incredibly busy. The work we are doing is dynamic and interesting. Right now we are monitoring the reproductive success of penguin species here on the island. The Gentoo penguins were already starting to lay eggs, and another species, the Adelies, were getting ready to lay eggs.

We spent the first few days setting up sites, checking for eggs, and banding penguins for future monitoring. We each have our own colonies to monitor, and it takes about 4-6 hours to make your ’rounds.’  Our schedule can be erratic, with some nights we work until dusk (which is at 10 pm right now) and others we are done earlier, or have data or other hut chores to do. Our weather forecast system is as simple as looking at the window: if it’s nice outside GO!

If you are wondering how showering and laundry get done in this remote place, this provides an excellent segue to a description of my Saturday night at the Polish research station. Arctowski is a few miles away and we go there once a week. Getting there on this particular Saturday was quite a process. We first carried a canoe ¾ mile to the edge of the bay, where we will keep it for the rest of the season (thank goodness!). Then we navigated a dicey canoe crossing in front of a glacier with four people, four heavy packs, and a little bit of swell. We made it across safely, but with only a few inches of freeboard above the water and some wind and swell – it was an exciting trip. We then hiked another mile or so to Arctowski.

I was looking forward to hot showers and laundry, which we got, but the showers are set up in what looks like a Russian engine room from the Cold War era. Conveniently, though, after you wash your clothes, you hang them in front of one of the huge generators in the room which create about a 15 mph hot wind. Needless to say my clothes dried quickly, albeit crunchily.

The next day was long; we had to weigh 50 struggling penguins the next day at a site near the Polish station, and then after we returned home, we had to do the rest of our penguin rounds near our field station. We didn’t finish until dark  We’re getting ready for dinner right now, and it is a little stormy outside. I can hear the penguins from my room and I’m starting to not even notice their noisy cries – I guess penguins can’t tell themselves apart either, so they recognize their mates by voice, which means a lot of “communicating!”

by Kristen Green, Ichthyology Lab

Punta Arenas, Chile, is a windy, lonely, port town, at the very tip of South America, where I arrived October 12th.  Tourists arrive here to board expensive luxury cruises to Antarctica, wandering backpackers flag down buses to the Patagonia region, and stray dogs roam the streets everywhere.

Another group of ephemeral travelers haunts the city: folks frantically packing boxes at the port, making last minute shopping trips for approximately 6 months worth of toiletries, hoarding email time at the internet cafes, and in the evening, engaging in serious rounds of pisco sours, the national Chilean cocktail. These are the scientists with the US Antarctic Program, and this is how I spent my few days in Punta Arenas.

There were about 25 scientists all waiting to embark for the Antarctic aboard the Research Vessel (R/V) Laurence M. Gould.  This is a large ice-strengthened ship that transports scientists and staff to several US field camps and research stations on the Antarctic Peninsula.  The trip takes 5 days, including a few days in the much talked about (and often hazardous) Drake Passage, but we had pretty good weather. The ship arrived in Admiralty Bay, on King George Island October 18th.  While there are enormous, permanent glaciers on the island, there was actually not very much ice and snow around the station, which is right on the shores of Admiralty Bay.

It is very strange to observe the small structure where you will be living for the next few months slowly to come into view, yet, not look all that much bigger the closer you get!  The field station has a main room with a kitchen and pantry, and bunk room. There is also a small lab with another bunk room attached. Three of us will be working here continuously for the next five months:  Myself, and Dave and Amy, a couple from Alaska.  Sue, along with her husband Wayne, are in charge of the project and have been working here since 1981. Sue is starting the season with us, but will be replaced by another researcher in 5 weeks, who will in turn be replaced by her husband Wayne.

The Copacabana station relies on wind and solar power for our energy, with a generator for backup. Our drinking supply comes from a “sophisticated” rain catchment system: snow melt is collected off the roof into barrels. Water and energy conservation are critical. Our toilet is even more sophisticated: a five gallon bucket that is emptied and buried in the intertidal area when full. Communication consists of VHF radio, satellite phone, and the slowest internet connection you can imagine, through the satellite phone. It is much, much slower than dial up, and very temperamental!

There was a lot to do to get ready for the season; and everyone on the ship came ashore to help with the major offload of all the dry, fresh, and frozen food that will sustain us for the next five months. We won’t get another shipment of fresh food until January, and already some of our fresh vegetables are getting moldy. I miss fresh produce in Santa Cruz already!

Imagine waking up, stepping outside, and being surrounded by nothing but snow, ice – and lots of penguins.  Such an opportunity is enough for even the most dedicated grad student to put a thesis on hold and hop a flight to Antarctica.  For the next five months, Kristen Green of the Ichthyology Lab is switching gears from studying fish to their feathered counterparts: the penguins.  What will this glamorous field work at the ends of the Earth entail?

Kristen writes:

“It’s hard to write an email describing what you are going to be doing for the next five months, but I leave Saturday, October 11th to conduct research on penguins on a small field station in the Antarctic. I will be working with four other scientists on King George Island [at the tip of the Antarctic peninsula], at a field station known as “Copacabana.” Not the tropical resort you might have had in mind…instead, the temperatures might reach a balmy 5 degrees C (40 degrees F) in the height of summer.  Minimum temperatures can reach -5 degrees C (22 degrees F). We will be there from mid-October to mid-March. This photo of the station is taken during the Antarctic summer, and as you can see, much of the snow has melted.  But when we arrive, the island will still be covered in snow and ice.

Penguin research began at King George Island in 1976. It’s pretty amazing to be part of a research group that has been studying the ecology and demography (population characteristics) of the region’s penguin and flying bird populations for over 30 years. Briefly, the main two scientific objectives of the study are to: 1) quantify the reproductive success and survival of penguin populations in the area, and 2) to investigate these population dynamics in response to prey-predator relationships and environmental variability. Some of this involves simply stepping out the door to get to work, while other penguin colonies are as far as 12 miles away.

Our closest neighbor is the Polish Research Station, Arctowski, which we visit every week, for showers (yeah!), laundry, & socializing. Copa also receives visitors from other research ships passing through the bay, as well as cruise ships carrying tourists. We also coordinate with these ships to get re-supplied with food and other necessities.”

Wish Kristen luck and stay tuned for more of her chilly escapades!