King penguin huddles down during a blizzard. |
Although we don't experience 24 hour darkness like those on the continent, we do have reduced light, and that's not just because of the constant dark clouds overhead. It gets light at 11am at the moment, and for the next two and a bit months, the sun won't rise above the hills behind base, meaning you have to go for a walk to bask in the rare sunlight. Despite the dark mornings, I aim to be up at 8am, or earlier if I'm cooking that day and have to do 'earlies' which means checking the generators are happy and the boilers are keeping the base warm. There are of course days (especially weekends and days when you can hear snow blowing against the windows at 40 knots) when I have a lie in. After lie-ins being virtually impossible in the summer, it's something to make the most of in winter.
'Chris' showing spots on his palette which aid in individual identification. Also his canines (for killing and ripping apart penguins and seals), and post-canines (for sieving krill.) |
Once I'm up and have had breakfast, I'll do an hour of data entry whilst I wait for it to get light, followed by tea and toast with the crossword which we print out every day to accompany our remote newspaper. Once it is light enough, I'll start getting ready to head out on the leopard seal round - a 7 km coastal route searching for leps, which I'll take ID photos of and measurements once found.
Obviously winter brings colder weather, and layering is essential. My lep round attire includes: thermals, wool socks, boots with chains attached, salopettes with dual waterproof layers (good for keeping you dry when you fall through a partially frozen bog or pond), a wind-breaker jacket under my waterproof paramo jacket, thick waterproof gloves, a buff, hat, snow goggles and sometimes a balaclava.
If I see a new lep, or interesting behaviour such as a kill, I'll often radio the other 3 guys on base to see if they want to head out and have a look too. Leopard seals really are amazing animals, and most people are happy to brave a blizzard to see these animals that can be as long as 4 m. After walking the route and collecting the necessary data, I'll often sit and enjoy the view, watching seals play in the surf, or Antarctic terns and cape petrels feeding in the bays.
On the way home, I often take a slight detour to slide down a snow-drift into a frozen stream bed, which is much more fun and easier going than falling into holes between tussock lumps, covered by a layer of snow.
Sliding head-first down a lovely powdery snow-drift. |
Back at base, I'll process any ID photos I've taken, ready to transfer back to Cambridge overnight, have lunch and often read for awhile. If I have lab work to do, I'll spend an hour or two chipping away at that, then head into the workshop. For midwinter, there is a whole week of celebrations, starting with a huge meal on midwinters day, followed by gift-giving. We've all picked a name out of a hat, so we focus all our efforts on making a present for one person. These vary from paintings, to craft projects and woodwork. Most of us have been spending a lot of time in the workshop, sharing the space to begin with whilst our presents are still planks of wood which are impossible to guess the recipients of. As the weeks have gone by, there are more instances where the 'No Entry' sign is hung on the workshop door. It will be great to see the outcome of the projects as everyone has put a lot of effort in.
Tim and I walking across to molly meadows after looking for dead chicks at a molly albatross colony. |
In the evenings, we have swapped eating at the table with 6 other people for more tv-dinners. We cook every 4 nights now, meaning there is more experimentation, and less reliance on a few staples that are proven to work. We still stick to Wednesday and Sunday as film nights, with weekends sat around the table, having a 3 course meal (often in fancy dress) on Saturday, and a roast on Sunday.
Nintendo night: (Mario, King boo, Bowser Jr., and Rosalina). |