Midwinter on Bird Island

Midwinter in the Antarctic is steeped with tradition, some starting with the early explorers who celebrated the shortest day which marks the slow return of the sun over the coming months. Nowadays winter isn't quite as extreme, we live in nice, comfortable heated bases with showers and internet that can even handle downloading pac-man via satellite. Despite these modern comforts, winter can take its toll on body and soul, so it is important to take some time off and midwinter is the perfect excuse. It is the main holiday for those South, as Christmas is the busiest time of year for our fieldwork, and personnel movements for those on the continent. This year midwinter fell on a Tuesday, so we took a week off, Saturday to Saturday. The only fieldwork that needs to be done at this stage is my leopard seal round, which others on base were kind enough to take on for the week, giving me some time off. I still had to go out when a seal is seen, but it is great to have a break from the daily 2-3 hour walk I do whilst looking for them.

Beach party
We started off the week with a beach party. On the icy beach outside we played frisbee, boules, did unconventional 'ice swimming', and hit a ball around. At the end of summer when we played french cricket, we had to chase down the ball to stop snowy sheathbills and skuas from stealing it, a problem which isn't as prevalent in winter. We moved inside to have dinner: a starter of vegetables and dips, followed by a very tasty sausage roll and chips in rolled up paper! For dessert we hopped in the outside hot tub and ate fruit juice ice lollies under the stars and an almost-full moon.

Ice-swimming is tiring...

Beach party games

You can't have a beach party without kicking a ball around

Hot-tubbing

Mid-winter Olympics
We returned to the beach on a foggy and windy day to play more games. This time we went curling (with 'stones' made from saucepan lids frozen into the top of a ball of coloured water), did welly whanging, bodger tossing, and a spot of 'archery'. Ian won, I came second, Tim followed, with Lucy taking the wooden spoon.

Curling stones and food colouring to paint a target on the ice

Ian showing us how it's done

Whanging a wellie

Tim expertly throwing a bodger

Mid-winter day
Most of us managed a lie-in whilst Lucy (winter station leader) got up early to make sure the generator hadn't grown unhappy overnight, and to start an amazing breakfast. It's tradition for the SL to make breakfast for the base, which can be a bit of an undertaking for larger bases like Rothera, and I think Lucy put in a similar amount of effort, creating some very tasty items. Over the preceding days, we had been receiving midwinter greetings cards from other bases, from many different countries. We even got an email from the Minister of Science in Japan, and Barrack Obama.

We spent the day cooking several courses. I was in charge of desserts, so had done the majority the day before, but had a few bits to finish so joined the others when there was space in the kitchen. We were all organized, and managed to sit down for a board game before dinner.

After dinner, we sat down and listened to the midwinter broadcast, where family record messages which are introduced by celebrities, specially for those wintering South. It was broadcast on BBC World Service, and is available on Iplayer. We also opened a surprise package from home, which was amazing to receive. I got a 'Marine Biologist because Badass isn't an official job title' t-shirt, and an 'I love counting seals' mug. Presents are always great, but even more so when South as there are no shops, and for some unbeknownst reason, Amazon doesn't deliver. <3 always="" amazon="" and="" are="" as="" but="" counting="" deliver="" doesn="" even="" it="" lovely="" more="" mug="" no="" options="" other="" p="" presents="" receive="" s="" seals="" shops="" so="" south="" t="" there="" to="" when=""><3 always="" amazon="" and="" are="" as="" br="" but="" counting="" deliver="" don="" for="" great="" more="" mug.="" no="" presents="" reason.="" seals="" shops="" so="" some="" south="" t="" there="" unbeknownst="" when="">

Pouring champagne for dinner

Appetizers

Starter accompanied by exchanging cards

Enjoying a feast which created leftovers for a week

I was happy with the outcome of the desserts

Happy with my new t-shirt

We also made presents for one other member of base, drawing the recipient out of a hat during our 'winterers night' at Fairy Point Hut in March, before the summer crew departed. Everyone has been working hard in the workshop, and all of the presents were wonderful, showing some very talented woodwork.

Ian made me a brilliant box, with fold-down front and a drawer

My present to Ian, a box / stand with a carving of BI on the top

Tim gave Lucy an Albatross coat hanger

Lucys' presents for Tim: A barometer, thermometer and clock

After dinner had settled, we danced the night away, spending a good 4 hours on the 'dancefloor'. We may not have a club, or a bar, but we do have a living room with a partially functional disco ball and strobe light, and no neighbours to annoy.

Group mid-winter photo

Listening to the broadcast

Wigs have a habit of coming out when dancing occurs

The day afterwards was spent huddled under duvets watching a variety of films, until I had to brave the elements and do the leopard seal round.

Fieldwork FIDS
Falkland Island Dependency Survey (FIDS) was the precursor to BAS. Earlier in the year we had a FIDS food night, sampling some of the old emergency field rations that had gone out of date (by 10 years in some cases) and had now been replaced with newfangled field food. Apparently punishing ourselves with camp food wasn't enough, so we decided to have a fieldwork FIDS day, wearing itchy flannel shirts in freezing winds. Ian and Tim went out to do the lep round together, and myself and Lucy headed up the ridge to check on the wanderers.

Apparently these are FID poses.

Shocked to see a wanderer chick, and feeling quite cold

Who needs a sledge when you can slide down a frozen stream on your bum?

It was a brilliant week, one that will keep us happy for a while. 

A brilliant four days: Whales, leopard seals and the sun!

The last few days have been simply amazing. Each day has consisted of the same central routine, with an additional added bonus.

Day 1: 
 I've started going out for the last hour of daylight before dinner, enjoying the pleasant light levels and hoping to see a leopard seal attempting to grab a penguin as they come ashore for the night. My favourite spot for this is called Iceberg point, an outcrop of rocks in the bay where base is situated. It presents decent views back into the bay, across to main bay, and also landing beach and beyond. I didn't see any leopard seals, so I spent my time taking photos of feeding terns in the slightly reddish light. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something big in the water, and then it was gone. I assumed this was a large rock being uncovered by an extreme low tide, until I saw the distinct blow and arching back of a whale. I called everyone out of base, and we spent half an hour watching it from ~15m away on the intertidal rocks, until we lost the light and had to make our way back to base before there was a chance we'd trip over seals and rocks in the dark. From the behaviour I think it may have been feeding, which is corroborated by hundreds of terns, giant petrels, gulls and pintail ducks feeding in the bay earlier that day, so clearly there was a lot of food around. This was the closest sighting of a whale to base, to my knowledge, since 1991. It was an amazing encounter, and rivals that of my Orca sighting from the Farallones last year (http://naturesfreedom.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/rounding-up-last-adventure-and-starting.html. ). It highlights the fact that you'll miss such encounters if you stay inside all the time. I was toying with the idea of watching an episode of walking dead (very kindly sent down on a USB by my parents in April), and I'm glad that I decided to sit out in the cold instead.

Day 2:
Sunlight is a rarity on Bird Island at the best of times, especially in winter when the sun doesn't hit base for several months.  I went on the lep round as soon as it was light to allow the other guys a chance to head out and enjoy the glorious weather when I got back. Jerry and Ian did a bit of winter climbing around the higher peaks on the island, armed with ice axes and crampons, and Tim went up the meadows to spend some time with his birds. Once the climbers came back (we have one person on base at all times to respond to any emergencies on-base or in the field), I headed out to Tonk, a hill that I hadn't been up before. It doesn't take long to get to the top, kicking steps into the snow and ice as I climbed, but the view was spectacular. It's always nice to see a place you live from a different perspective. As I was sitting on top, I got a radio call from Ian alerting me that two leps had been seen off SSB, so I started to make my way down. The easiest way back down the snow slope seemed to be bum sliding, stopping myself periodically so I didn't gain too much speed. It was also very fun!

It was sunny, but -6C, so grease ice formed into pancake ice in the bay.

Having a chat with a wanderer chick on the way up the hill

The view from Tonk.

The same panorama, in spherical form. I quite like this one.

Day 3: 
The weather turned, returning to the standard BI foggy slush. The day continued as normal, until I got a call from Ian once again reporting a sighting of a leopard seal off SSB. I went to meet him, expecting the usual mid-distance sighting where the seal shows her back and her upper face above the water. I climbed out onto the intertidal rocks once more to get some close-up shots, when she swam towards me, coming within a few metres and making full eye-contact. I've made eye contact with them before on land, but they are in their element in the water, and seem a lot more powerful when they're swimming about with ease. It was great to have such a close encounter with an inquisitive seal.

There are usually terns feeding in the bays, which I see daily on the lep round

Adult female leopard seal says hello

I also somehow managed to upload a video over our limited internet!

Day 4:
I was working on my mid-winters present in the workshop, and had just finished and was leaving to go have another look for leps around iceberg point and SSB, when I saw a big splash next to iceberg point itself. I've seen a few leopard seal kills already, and instantly recognized the splash as they throw their prey from side-to-side, ripping chunks of flesh off with their powerful jaws. I sprinted to the rocks, with a quick detour to grab my camera, running through ankle deep slush whilst counting the number of thrashes and splashes. I got to the rocks, and was perhaps 5 or 6 metres from the lep as it continued its post-mortem processing of a fur seal. It was the longest processing I've witnessed, totaling 24 minutes, allowing us to take hundreds of photos and several minutes of video. It may sound odd if you aren't a field biologist, but we are constantly surrounded by life and death, so it's not odd to find watching a predator rip apart its previously cute and furry prey, very very cool. The raw power they exhibit is really impressive.

Winter: An average day

We're now a month and a half into winter, and it is less than a month until 'midwinter' arrives. I've gotten into a nice routine, covering several aspects of my job.

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.

Measuring the first leopard seal of the winter whilst he sleeps. He was 3.30m, and my excuse for the horrible winter attire is that I was excited to work with my first lep, I threw whatever I could find on.

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).

Sea leopards amongst the ice

Winter hit us two weeks ago. The ZFAs we have shared the island with for the summer departed, and were replaced by tonnes of ice floating around (and denting) the jetty, and becoming grounded on the beach. The island itself has frozen, streams stand still and bogs are hard. It has been snowing almost daily, alternating between blizzards blowing through, to calmly falling powder. As a result, holes between the tussock hide beneath a level layer of snow, and snowdrifts can be as deep as my waist. The frustration of slipping around in the muddy bogs of summer has abated, and is replaced with the fun of flailing around in the snow, until the flailing results in shins hitting against frozen tussock lumps, now balls of ice. I've switched my bodger for a walking pole, and attached chains to the bottom of my boots.

Photo by Jerry Gillham

The fur seals appear to love the snow, and can often be seen sliding around on their belly, digging their nose into snow drifts and rolling around. These playful animals have mostly departed, leaving behind small but dense pockets of seals, usually angry to be disturbed from playing in the snow. The majority have left to forage at sea, due to return in the summer, but it is also a good idea in order to avoid a bigger seal which hunts fur seals : Leopard seals.

Meet Chris.

We had our first leopard seal of winter haul out on the 14th, which means that I have started my daily work until November, walking a 7 km coastal route looking for leopard seals. When I find one, I take photos to identify the individual from distinctive pelage markings. I also collect any scats, and record behaviour including kills.

Checking out a resting leopard seal near base.

It's not all about the seals however, so to finish off here are a few miscellaneous photos.

Giant petrels fight over scraps of a fur seal left by a leopard seal, with cape petrels picking bits off the water.

Gentoos under a rare clear sky

When there was a lot less snow, but still ice

A fur seal braves the surf on a stormy day

Antarctic tern