Pack Ice
December 13, 2008
The ice goes out, the ice comes in. Ever since the frozen sea ice broke into pieces, those pieces have been roaming around the Ross Sea in a grinding pack, driven before changing winds. This morning, about 50% of our ocean view was covered by pack ice, but, by afternoon, ice covered 97% of that same view.
The penguins seem to enjoy the pack ice. They perch on the mini icebergs, dive off them, hop from floe to floe, swim under them, and scramble across thin spots. When the penguins decide to exit the water, they swim rapidly toward the surface and arc five or six feet in the air, falling in a heap on the adjacent raised ice edge. I was lying on my stomach this afternoon, angling for a good camera view, when a very wet penguin shot out of the water next to me and landed squarely on my back! I’m not sure which of us was more surprised.
Penguins On An Ice Floe
Penguins In The Pack Ice
A Penguin Hops Across A Crack
Penguins Diving From A Mini Iceberg
Penguin Wrangling
December 12, 2008
We picked up our first two returning satellite tags today. Small transmitters are taped to the feathers on a penguin’s back, bouncing its position off satellites which relay the information to our email. It’s a pretty fancy system that documents the penguins as they swim out to sea and return with food.
Retrieving the transmitters is not so fancy. You’ve got to catch the penguin, and he remembers you from when you first put the transmitter on a couple days before. Still, he will stick by his nest, and, to capture him, all you need to do is walk over and pick him up. Then, you’ve got one very angry penguin on your hands, and getting the tag off his back is a matter of pinning his head in your armpit, holding his feet with one hand, and undoing the tape with the other. Meanwhile, the chicks in the nest are exposed, so we throw a warm hat over them to protect against skuas marauding from the sky. The soft, wriggling hat with penguin fluffballs underneath always brings a smile.
I wrangled my first penguins today. Retrieving the satellite tags was easy enough. Then, we spotted a young bird wandering around a snowfield with a misplaced band which could cause damage, and had to catch it to bend the metal tag back into place. Without a nest to defend, the penguin was as wily as could be. Kirsten and I came at him from both sides, but, on the icy hill, he ran circles around us as we slipped and slid. This called for a net, and Kirsten finally sprinted with a flat-out dive, sweep, and snatch to end the chase. The penguin’s band was easy to mend, and he was a little miffed, but none the worse for wear.
Standing Room Only On This Iceberg
Porpoising
December 11, 2008
Penguins may swim well, but they’re still birds, and they breathe air. So, like whales and dolphins, they surface every once in a while, arcing from the water to take a quick breath. This is called “porpoising”, and, as more open water appears close to shore, we’ve been seeing it a lot. Groups of penguins will suddenly shoot out of the water, then, just as quickly, disappear back to the land of fishes and krill.
We deployed three satellite tags on adult penguins today, which was a very cold experience, as taping the tags onto feathers requires the dexterity of bare fingers (no gloves). As they swim out to sea to gather food, we now get constant updates on the penguins’ positions via email. When they return in a couple days, we’ll take the tags off and put them on different birds, to lessen the load on any given individual.
Porpoising Penguins
A Penguin Leaps From The Water
A Typical Day
December 10, 2008
9:30am: Wake Up.
10:00am: Summon courage to leave sleeping bag, pull on snow boots, exit tent, hit the outhouse, go into hut.
10:15am: Breakfast. Pour two cups granola, one cup dry oatmeal, and two tablespoons powdered soy milk into a bowl, add melted snow water, stir, garnish with one spoonful honey and two spoons of yogurt, enjoy.
11:00am: Wipe dirty dishes with paper towels and water (no soap).
11:15am: Morning constitutional.
11:30am: Enter data from previous afternoon, tally season’s results, and update whiteboard (today’s total: 466 penguin bands resighted, 369 on nests, and 14 originally banded at other colonies).
12:30pm: Lunch. Leftover veggie burger patties from last night’s dinner.
1:15pm: Pack gear to take into the field. Field checklist: Databook, binoculars, radio, GPS, extra batteries, sharpie, nest markers, Leatherman, water bottle, Balance Bars, goggles, extra changes of clothes, extra glasses, sunglasses, satellite phone, handwarmers, sunscreen, and camera.
1:30pm: Dress for the field. Clothing: Two pairs long underwear, T-shirt, sweatshirt, fleece sweater, coverall pants, radio chest harness, heavy socks, gloves, hat, neck gaiter, sunglasses, heavy jacket and windbreaker, boots, crampons.
1:45pm: Out the door, walk 1 mile down ice slope to penguin colony.
2:30pm: Wander among penguins, searching for banded birds, monitor known nests of banded birds, collect eggshell samples, other data gathering.
7:30pm: Daily check-in by radio with McMurdo Station. Start scrambling up the side of Pat’s Peak.
8:15pm: Summit of Pat’s Peak (1,200′), watch ocean with binculars and scope for 1 hour, record whale activity.
9:15pm: Hike back to hut.
9:30pm: Dinner. Pitas, beef, yogurt, hummus, made by Michelle.
10:00pm: Maintenence (tighten ropes on tents, organize hut, chores).
11:00pm: Check email.
Midnight: Sleep.
Penguins Running Toward The Camera
Penguins On The Ice
Kirsten Hikes Home
Michelle Among The Penguins
Heat Wave
December 9, 2008
It is warm at Cape Crozier. Today was just above freezing most of the day, no clouds, and no wind!
Warm temperatures are nice for working in the penguin colony. We discarded heavy jackets and walked around in two layers of fleece. Thawing does make things smell, though, and all the old penguin carcasses and piles of guano were noticeable this afternoon. Back at the hut, the roof leaks are dripping and our frozen dinners and human waste buckets are thawing. Cold may be cold, but at least it is clean torture.
The surprise of the day was a new bird species for the season. My heart skipped when I spotted a tiny bird zigzagging across the penguin colony: a Wilson’s Storm-Petrel, unusual but not unheard of at Cape Crozier. Apparently you can attract them with sardines and crackers (only unintentionally, of course). That makes seven species for the season so far: Adelie Penguin, Emperor Penguin, South Polar Skua, Snow Petrel, Antarctic Petrel, Southern Fulmar, and Wilson’s Storm-Petrel. We aren’t likely to add any more this year, but something rare could show up. In the past 13 seasons, Chinstrap Pengin and Long-tailed Jaeger have both been recorded once, and that’s pretty much it for the Cape Crozier bird list.
Enemies: An Adelie Penguin Eyes A South Polar Skua
Adelie Penguins In The Pack Ice
Mount Terror Dominates Eastern Ross Island
Snow Petrels
December 8, 2008
Snow Petrels, ghostly birds of pack ice in southern latitudes, have become increasingly common at Cape Crozier as the sea ice breaks up this spring. We are seeing so many, in fact, that they may be nesting somewhere nearby. Breeding has never been confirmed on Ross Island, so the game is on: we must find a nest!
Easier said than done, of course. Snow Petrels lay their eggs in crevices on inaccessible cliffs. There are plenty of cliffs around here. Each day, we scramble to the summit of a nearby 1,200-foot peak to watch the ocean for whale activity, and, more often than not, a Snow Petrel starts dive-bombing your head during an hour-long vigil (swooping within five feet of your face). But, that bird appears and departs as sneakily as a ghost (a white bird is tough to track against white snowfields), and we can’t figure out where it’s coming from. I have a feeling we’re gonna find a nest somewhere, though. Stay tuned!
Snow Petrel
Snow Petrel And Water
Snow Petrel Strafes The Penguins
Human Waste
December 7, 2008
A lot of people have been asking about basic amenities in our field camp. One of the most basic systems is human waste, so I think it deserves a few words.
Nothing decomposes in Antarctica, so all waste is shipped out. Inside our outhouse is a foam seat over a plastic bucket. When the bucket fills up, you close it, put it outside to freeze, and start a new one. The frozen buckets go out on the next available helicopter to McMurdo Station, where they are put on a ship to Washington state for disposal. A funnel takes urine from the outhouse to a barrel, where it is stored with other gray water.
If you have to go #2 while you’re in the penguin colony, tough luck. Human waste can’t be left there, and it’s a 45-minute hike uphill back to the hut. In an emergency, we take poo bags to carry it home. The threat of such unpleasantness is great motivation for a regular bowel schedule. If you need to pee at night, we have “pee bottles” (a Nalgene with the letter P written on the side). Mistaking a pee bottle for your water bottle is one way to become legendary in Antarctica.
Today was sunny and calm, and, for the first time in nine days, I changed my underwear. I found a penguin nest with three eggs, which either means both parents are female (which happens quite regularly, actually), or one of the eggs was stolen from another nest. Kirsten saw a penguin with its leg missing, bleeding and limping around on the beach, no doubt a Leopard Seal victim. Chicks are hatching all over the place. Life continues.
Human Waste Bucket ...mmm...
Outhouse
Pee Bottle
Adelie Penguin In Late Afternoon Sun
Blondie And Blackie
December 6, 2008
It was too windy to go outside yesterday (but not a full gale), so we caught up on sleep, data entry, and eating. Three inches of snow fell today, and the last of the sea ice has blown offshore. A half-mile section of ice that we walked over to reach the Emperor Penguin colony two days ago was open water this morning; a sobering realization. Michelle and I put up new tents after breakfast (in place of the ones that were destroyed by 90mph winds last week) and spent an hour securing them with ropes and rocks. With sun shining this afternoon, we got some time to work in the penguin colony.
There are bound to be some funky birds among a quarter million penguins. Two of the most interesting-looking individuals we’ve seen at Cape Crozier are Blondie and Blackie.
Blondie looks like a regular penguin, except where he should be black, he’s bleached blond. He’s missing some melanin pigments in his feathers, a similar condition to albinism. This is the seventh consecutive year that Blondie has returned to the same nest, but this season, for the first time, he’s incubating an egg. We think he found a mate, but haven’t seen her yet. So maybe he just stole someone else’s egg.
Blackie is a little different. Where she should be white, she is jet black—in fact, she is entirely black, beak to tail. Last time we checked, she was sitting happily on eggs. This year, we also found another black penguin near the top of the valley, building a gigantic nest, but he had no egg or mate. I hope the lady penguins look more than feather-deep, for his sake.
In past years, albino (all-white) penguin chicks have hatched at Cape Crozier, but none ever survived. Nobody has seen an albino penguin adult here—yet!
Blondie Sits On His Nest
Blackie On Her Nest
Another Black Penguin
A Normal Adelie Penguin
Penguins In The Snow
Emperor Penguins
December 4, 2008
I will never forget this day!
We visited an Emperor Penguin nesting area. With iceaxes and crampons, Michelle, Kirsten and I trekked a couple miles over sea ice, snowfields, and scree slopes to reach the colony, which is tucked into a sheltered cove in the edge of the Ross Ice Shelf. We counted how many Emperor Penguin chicks were present and took some photos for a census.
If you’ve ever watched “Happy Feet” or “March of the Penguins”, you’re familiar with Emperors. Few people ever see them firsthand, however, and fewer still experience a colony. Emperors incubate their eggs during the Antarctic winter (incredibly enough), so, now, in late spring, their chicks are as big as the adults and stand in fluffy groups on the ice. Soon, they will all head out to sea.
Emperor Penguins figure so prominently in popular media that they seem like a movie set in real life. The adults, black-and-white with splashes of orange, chest-high, are very deliberate, slow-moving creatures, unhurried in the face of Antarctic conditions. Most of them were out on feeding trips, so the colony was predominantly chicks: black and gray, fluffy in a warm coat of down, waiting around for their parents to return with food. Smaller Adelie Penguins also crisscrossed the area, on journeys of their own, and a couple Weddell Seals lounged next to holes in the ice.
With walls of the ice shelf rising sheer on one side, snow-covered mountains of Ross Island on the other, and alien-looking Emperor Penguins bunched all around, the scene was prehistoric and timeless. If you didn’t have a watch, you couldn’t be sure if you existed in this millennium, or the one before, or the one before that. Things haven’t changed too much for the Emperors in a long, long time.
Noah With Adelie Penguins
Two Emperor Penguin Adults
Emperor Penguin Colony
Emperor Penguin And Chick
Portrait Of An Emperor
Emperor And Chicks
Adelie Penguins On A Snow Cornice
Weddell Seal
First Chick
December 3, 2008
It took me by surprise this afternoon: a small, black, fuzzy head poked out from under a penguin on its nest, and chirped a couple times. The first hatched penguin chick of the season! Last year, the first chick was seen on December 6.
Meanwhile, the other 299,999 penguins at Cape Crozier are still sitting on eggs, but, within a week or two, there will be chicks hatching all over the place. I predict chaos will ensue, or the penguins will learn to recognize their offspring.
Yesterday’s four inches of new snow made the landscape pretty, and also pretty slippery. When you can’t see the rocks and ice beneath the frosting, it’s hard to navigate without losing balance on the one-mile hike (down almost 1,000 feet elevation) to reach the penguin colony from our hut. I wiped out on a sheet of hidden ice before seeing a snowy body-print where Kirsten had done exactly the same thing. Live and learn.
A helicopter dropped by this morning to pick up our broken tents and deliver us two new ones. More important, however, was the box of fresh tomatoes they also brought us. And the carton of hot cocoa mix—we were running low. Some things, money can’t buy… for everything else, there’s a good helo pilot funded by the National Science Foundation.
The First Adelie Penguin Chick Of 2008-09
Kirsten And Michelle On The Ice
Six Adelie Penguins
Kirsten Searching For Banded Penguins
Penguins In The Colony
Kirsten Hiking Home After A Day In The Penguin Colony
A Helicopter Creates A Snowstorm As It Takes Off
There Are Some Things Money Can't Buy...
Snow On Penguins
December 2, 2008
A surprise fell on us this morning: four inches of light, fluffy, sticky, fresh snow, leaving the landscape looking like a Christmas card. Minus the trees. Odd as it might seem, Antarctica is essentially a desert, and snow buildup is unusual. This was the first snow to accumulate since I’ve been here.
This snow must be among the lightest, driest powder on earth. Antarctica’s air is extremely dry. Walking through the fresh snow is surreal, since you can see it swirling around your boots, but can barely feel its touch. If it sticks around long enough, it might pack into compressed, icy snow, eventually to freeze into solid ice, but most of it will probably blow away in the next breeze (certain to be a whiteout when that happens).
We were supposed to have a helicopter touch down today and lift away our destroyed tents (see last post), but the snowstorm canceled the flight, put off to tomorrow. Instead, we tramped down to the penguin colony and continued tracking banded birds. The penguins took the weather’s latest mood under their wings, and were happily sitting on nests this afternoon as the sun broke out behind the clouds. In fact, they seemed to be enjoying the fresh powder as much as any skier. They sledded on their bellies down the snow, using their feet to steer, accelerate, and brake.
Our Hut In The Snow
Penguins Crossing An Ice Gap
Penguins And Fresh Snow On The Mountains
A Penguin Sledding Down The Snowfield
Penguin Tracks at Cape Crozier (Not Snowboard Tracks At Whistler)
Adelie Penguin Tracks On Fresh Snow
A Pair Of Penguins
Sunshine And Aftermath
November 30, 2008
For 30 hours, the wind stayed between 50 and 90mph, visibility was sometimes reduced to 10 feet, and three of us were stuck in our little hut. Going to the outhouse (which is attached to the hut on the outside) was an adventure, as it was difficult to walk outdoors without the door ripping off its hinges, and the plywood enclosure trembled and clanked like it was cleared for liftoff as you went about your business inside.
So, for two days we caught up on data entry, watched “Horatio Hornblower” on a laptop, read “The Worst Journey In The World” (about the winter expedition to Cape Crozier in the early 1900s which stretched human life to its limits), and watched the weather station display. Our highest gust reading was 92mph, and it should be noted that the gauge is on the sheltered side of the hut, and the hut is on the sheltered side of a ridge.
The frozen sea broke up, and now pack ice drifts back and forth across the horizon with long stretches of open water in between (photos below). The penguins are happily diving in from shore, instead of marching miles across the ice to reach water. They survived the storm just fine – we found a few intact eggs blown out of nests, but otherwise business is as usual.
Two of our three Scott tents were destroyed, including mine. They cost $3,000 each. The one-inch metal pole supports snapped clean in half, canvas ripped up the side, ropes parted, and the whole thing destructed in place, still tethered and rocked solidly to the ground. We are now sleeping on bunks in the hut, taking turns with the privacy of the one remaining tent. I am glad the hut is here.
Open Water And The Ross Ice Shelf (After The Storm)
Penguins And The Ice Shelf (Before The Storm)
My Scott Tent (After The Storm)
Penguins Enjoying The Open Water Access
Storm
November 28, 2008
The wind has not dropped below 50mph at Cape Crozier today, and gusts are exceeding hurricane force. When I awoke, my Scott tent walls were snapping and snow had drifted through gaps around the door. The sound of wind approached a roar outside. After pouring snow out of my boots, I climbed out and crawled to our hut.
Before breakfast, we spent an hour tightening ropes holding down our tents, a task that would usually take 10 minutes. While we were outside, our weather station recorded a 91mph gust, and average wind speeds were around 70mph [a hurricane is defined as 72mph and above]. Imagine sitting on the roof of a car speeding on the freeway and you get an idea of the forces involved. It was impossible to walk or stand, and, to reach our tents, we crawled over the rocks and ice.
Needless to say, we can’t observe the penguins today. While we are huddled next to the heater in our hut, they are sitting on their nests in the snow, comfortably streamlining themselves to the wind. Oh, to be a penguin…
Happy Thanksgiving to all in the U.S.
My Tent In The Storm
Thanksgiving In Antarctica
November 27, 2008
I spent this holiday counting penguins. Aerial photos taken of the colony two days ago will be used to make an exact census (someone has to count 300,000 dots on a photograph), but, today, our task was to ground-truth the imaging technique. We took four hours to quantify about 7,000 individual penguins in several subcolonies, ticking along with handheld tallywhackers. The totals will be compared to numbers from the same areas on aerial photos.
The real highlight of this Thanksgiving, though, was our first Orca (Killer Whale) sighting of the season. Fifty mile-per-hour winds yesterday broke up ice on the Ross Sea and blew much of it away, leaving ragged patches of open water, and we spotted more than 18 different whale spouts and dorsal fins along the new ice edge.
The three techs stranded here last night by bad weather (Cape Crozier storm video) were lifted away by helicopter after breakfast, still cheerful after their unplanned stay. One of the guys had called a favor over the radio, after listening to our food fantasies, and, unexpectedly, we received a small brown paper bag on the flight this morning, containing one fresh onion, which went straight into Thanksgiving stuffing.
I found a fresh dead penguin in the colony today, in excellent shape (somewhat unusual, not sure why it died), and collected it for a museum study specimen; this involved cradling the 10-pound body against my chest, like an infant, during the mile-long wind-blasted trek up-glacier back to our hut. Of course, it was Thanksgiving… We didn’t eat the bird, but our palates appreciated its irony.
Cape Crozier is on New Zealand time (a day ahead of the New World), so, although it’s not Thanksgiving yet in the U.S., we are already digesting dinner. Kirsten served Cornish game hens, stuffing, green beans, and mashed potatoes, and Michelle added a raspberry chocolate crisp dessert. All is well on a happy stomach.
A Group of Adelie Penguins On The Ice
Penguins And The Ross Ice Shelf
Unexpected Guests
November 26, 2008
A helicopter arrived this morning and dropped three guys from McMurdo Station. They fixed our internet and wind generator, which had both been working intermittently. Luckily, some wind started blowing to test the windmill.
Unfortunately, the wind kept getting stronger, and, by the time the helo returned a few hours later to take the guys back to McMurdo, it was 40mph and gusty, too risky to land. In an anxious moment, we watched the helicopter hover outside our kitchen window, visibly buffeted sideways by gusts, while its pilot apologized over the radio: “Sorry guys, I can’t shoot the approach. I’m heading back to station.”
So, we are battened down with six people in our tiny hut, including three unexpected guests. They’re stuck here until weather improves, probably at least overnight. It’s my turn to cook dinner today, and I’m suddenly feeding a lot of people! We can’t hike down to the penguin colony in this weather, so we’re sipping hot chocolate, entering data, dreaming of fresh onions, and catching up on email, waiting for the storm to pass. According to our anemometer (wind gauge), the highest gust so far was 54mph – enough to pin us inside, but not really ripping yet.
Michelle and Brian Battle the Weather
A Helo Hovers Outside Our Kitchen Window, But Can't Land
Inside The Hut
The Emperors Visit
November 24, 2008
I was high in penguin valley this morning, searching for banded birds on nests, when Michelle called tantalizingly on the radio: “There are four Emperor Penguins close to the beach!” The Emperors nest way out on sea ice, but occasionally wander close to Cape Crozier. I scrambled down rocky slopes and around an ice bluff to get closer to the visitors.
Sure enough, four Emperor Penguins plodded methodically next to our “beach” (a jumble of broken ice where ocean meets land). If Adelies are wind-up toys, then Emperors are tortoises of the penguin world. They shuffle slowly, hunch morosely, and just seem tired, like old men without their canes. Emperors starred in the movie, “March of the Penguins”, which was filmed not far from here. They have evolved to endure.
I am enduring just fine after a week at Cape Crozier, with just a few aches and pains. My lips are chapped to the point of bleeding. My thumb has a hangnail that is also bleeding. My heels have blisters (from walking with crampons), and Michelle and Kirsten were a bit concerned when they found two bloody socks warming above the heater. At least I’m not getting bloody noses (as others here do). Dry Antarctic air chaps and dehydrates quickly, and sun reflecting off snow burns twice as fast. I will soon have a balaclava tan! I scorched my finger on our oven yesterday, resulting in a large blister. I’m glad to be healthy. Help could be delayed for days should a serious injury occur.
Four Emperor Penguins
Adelies Charge Toward The Camera
Adelie Penguins Walk Out To Sea
Penguins At The "Beach"
Skua Eggs
November 23, 2008
Our internet has been down for the last three days (something to do with a broken charge controller at the repeater). Michelle spent the day on the radio with the comms guys at McMurdo Station, and finally got a shaky interim connection going.
Meanwhile, life is never dull at Cape Crozier! Penguins are engaged in an endless battle with South Polar Skuas, a predatory gull-like bird. Yesterday, I watched one swoop down on a nest while the penguin was distracted by a pesky neighbor. In mid-flight, the skua snapped up the penguin’s egg and flapped away with it. The penguin, in late realization, could only stand and stare, then it wandered from its nest, suddenly purposeless. Yesterday, we discovered the first skua egg of the season in a depression among the rocks, a dozen yards from the penguins. One egg is taken, and another is laid.
I am still waiting for a real storm to arrive. The weather has been uneventful, with temperatures between 10 and 20 degrees F and some light snow showers. The open water that appeared on the 21st has already refrozen solid enough for penguins to walk on it.
South Polar Skuas Eat An Adelie Penguin Egg
Open Water
November 21, 2008
I awoke this morning to an unfamiliar sound, and it took a minute to realize the walls of my tent were flapping. Wind! It was wind! After a calm week, the breeze kicked up today.
Michelle, Kirsten and I sat around our digital weather station display by the breakfast table and watched the wind speed number rise and fall. Do we go out today or not? Usually, if the wind is less than 20mph, it’s no problem. If it’s more than 20mph, you stay inside… a storm could be coming. Around 60mph you might have to crawl to make progress into the wind, and at 80mph you can’t really stand up. Much more than 100mph, and the air can actually pick you up and blow you away. A couple seasons ago, this hut withstood an average windspeed of more than 100mph for an entire day, and took one reading of 147mph. Rocks embedded in the south wall of the hut prove it.
This morning, though, the wind sustained right around 20mph, and we hemmed and hawed, and stayed inside. I read a book about penguins, and kept eyeing the weather station display – that thing is addicting, like watching TV. But, if I wanted a storm to materialize, I was disappointed; the gusts died out mid-afternoon, and our highest reading was 43mph: no more than a breath of fresh air. At 6:30pm, Michelle and I finally layered up and hiked down to do a couple hours of work in the penguin colony, while Kirsten cooked dinner to be ready when we got back in.
I was a bit surprised at the view from our kitchen window this afternoon. The frozen Ross Sea is no longer frozen! A couple miles out, the ice ends, and dark blue open water extends to the horizon. This morning, our little south breeze blew the pack ice out to sea. It is summer in Antarctica.
Open Water On The Horizon
Cape Crozier Camp
Noah's Tent
Inside Tent
Lifeline From Tent To Hut
Outhouse And Hut
A Rare Sighting
November 19, 2008
I don’t know where all the storms are. Despite its gnarly reputation, Antarctica delivered another clear, sunny, calm day (current temperature eight degrees F), perfect for recording penguin bands. After yesterday’s exhausting and freezing project, Kirsten, Michelle and I spent this afternoon wandering in the colony, dividing areas and searching for banded birds. Each nest with a tagged penguin is marked so we can keep track of their reproductive success this season.
Around five in the afternoon, Kirsten, who was out of earshot down the frozen beach, suddenly burst on the radio. “Noah! Look over your left shoulder! What’s that bird?” A streamlined gray and white seabird was gliding up and down the coastline. As it made two passes then landed on a rocky cliff, Michelle, Kirsten, and I (spread out over a quarter mile but in sight of each other) discussed it over the radio, directing each other on its movements. Eventually, we all had decent views, and the bird did a fly-by about eight feet in front of Michelle.
It was a Southern Fulmar (also called Antarctic Fulmar), the first one to be recorded at Cape Crozier in 13 years of field seasons, and the 10th bird species to be seen here in that time. They can be abundant in oceans surrounding Antarctica, but are apparently quite rare in the Ross Sea. Unfortunately, the bird headed out to sea before posing for any photos, but its identification was unquestionable. You never know what might show up here!
Noah In Penguin Valley
Curious Adelie Penguin
Penguins At Their Nests
Adelie Penguin Portrait
Sledding And Fencing
November 18, 2008
Today I helped build a fence around a bunch of penguins. We encircled a small colony of a couple dozen nests with plastic fencing, leaving only one entrance for the birds. As they pass through, a chip implanted in their wing is detected by sensors which record the event, and a scale weighs the birds.
It’s all very high-tech, and lets us see how long the penguins leave their nests to find food, how much food they bring back to their chicks, and which birds are around this year.
Setting up the fence and “weighbridge”, however, was epic. To get the gear down there, it was all strapped onto a sled, and we put on crampons, took up harnesses, and man-hauled it almost a mile down the face of a glacier from our hut to the penguin colony. Once there, it took us six hours of labor to dig out snowdrifts, plug in solar panels, move a penguin nest that was in the way of the fence, and hook up the weighbridge apparatus.
Meanwhile, my toes were slowly freezing in my boots (the temperature today with wind chill was -39 degrees C), and they were painful to the point of nausea by the time we hiked back up the hill. I was glad for the pain, since it meant I wasn’t getting frostbite yet. Working in the antarctic chill is a singularly cold experience, but I need to figure out the best combination of socks and boots. In any case, a hot and spicy pasta dinner at the end of the day was well-deserved by all.
Pulling The Sled
Our Commute To The Penguin Colony
Fenced-In Penguins
Noah On The Glacier
Resting With Crampons
This Is The Tent Where I Sleep
The Hut We Call Home